Page 9 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

"Touch me, Corbin," she says, taking my hand and placing it on her breast. Even through the fabric, I can feel her heart racing, the warmth of her skin seeping into my palm.

I cup her gently, reverently, watching her eyes flutter closed at the contact. Her nipple hardens beneath my touch, and I brush my thumb across it, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

With trembling fingers, she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall away. The sight of her bare breasts steals my breath—full and perfect, tipped with rosy peaks that beg for my attention.

I lower my head slowly, maintaining eye contact until the last moment when my lips close around one sensitive peak. She arches into me, a low moan escaping her throat as her fingers tangle in my hair, holding me to her.

"God, Corbin," she breathes as I lavish attention on each breast in turn, alternating between gentle suction and the light grazing of teeth that makes her squirm beneath me.

When her fingers dip beneath the waistband of my jeans, I groan against her skin.

"These need to go," she murmurs, tugging at my belt.

She reaches for me then, pulling me down to her, our naked bodies pressing together skin to skin. The sensation is overwhelming—her softness against my hardness, her warmth enveloping me. Our lips meet in a kiss that's both tender and hungry, tongues exploring, tasting, claiming.

My hand slides down her body, venturing between her thighs. She parts for me willingly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as my fingers find her center, already slick with desire.

"Is this good?" I ask, circling gently, learning what makes her breath catch.

"Yes," she gasps. "Just like that."

I watch her face as I touch her, memorizing every expression, every subtle change that tells me what brings her pleasure, when I slip one finger inside her, her back arches, her body drawing me deeper.

"More," she whispers, and I oblige, adding a second finger, curling them to find that spot that makes her cry out, her inner walls clenching around me.

She's uninhibited in her responses, honest in her pleasure in a way that makes my desire for her almost painful. When her hand wraps around my length, stroking with unpracticed but enthusiastic motions, I have to still her movements.

"Too much," I warn, my voice strained. "It's been a long time. You need to stop, or this will be over before it starts."

She releases me with a smile of feminine satisfaction, seemingly pleased with the effect she has on me.

I roll us over gently, settling between her thighs, the heat of her core pressing against me, tempting and inviting.

"I don't have protection," I admit the realization cutting through my desire.

Her eyes widen briefly, then soften. "I'm on birth control," she says. "For regularity. And I'm healthy. Are you...?"

"Yes," I assure her. "I get tested regularly at my physicals. Even though I haven't been with anyone in a very, very long time."

She smiles, reaching between us to guide me to her entrance. "Then there's nothing to worry about."

I enter her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. The sensation is overwhelming—tight, wet heat enveloping me, drawing me deeper. When I'm fully sheathed within her, I pause, forehead pressed to hers, both of us breathing hard.

"You feel incredible," I whisper against her lips.

"So do you," she responds, her hands sliding down to grip my backside, urging me to move.

I begin with slow, measured thrusts, savoring the friction, the way her body yields and welcomes me. Her legs wrap around my waist, changing the angle, allowing me to sink even deeper inside her tight pussy. Each thrust draws a soft sound from her.

If I died right now, I’d be a happy man. But I don’t want to. I want to spend forever with her like this, deep inside her wet pussy.

"Faster," she urges after a while. “Corbin. Fuck me harder. I want your cock.”

Hearing her pretty mouth say those dirty words makes me let loose.

“Fuck,” I grunt, the sensation of her wetness driving me into a frenzy. I rut into her like a caveman, pressing her into our pile of clothes that have become a makeshift bed. I slide a hand between us, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, circling in time with my thrusts.

"Yes, there," she gasps, her body tightening around me. "Don't stop."

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