Page 29 of Mountain Protector

Only then does he rise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks down at me with undisguised male satisfaction. His cock stands proud against his stomach, hard and ready.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he says, voice rough with desire.

I reach for him, wanting to feel him inside me, needing to complete this connection.

He moves over me, his muscled body caging mine as he settles between my thighs. The blunt head of his cock presses against my entrance, teasing but not entering.

I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he positions himself at my entrance. His blue eyes lock on mine as he pushes slowly inside. The stretch is exquisite, my body still sensitive from his mouth but eager to take all of him.

“Fuck,” he groans as he bottoms out. “You feel incredible.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, loving the weight of him above me.

He begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me climbing toward another peak almost immediately. His forearms bracket my head as he thrusts, his gaze never leaving mine, creating an intimacy that’s almost more overwhelming than the physical pleasure.

I run my hands down his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath smooth skin, tracing old scars I want to know the stories behind. He dips his head to capture my mouth in a kiss that tastes of me, and something about that is so erotic I moan into his mouth.

His pace quickens, his control slipping as I tighten around him. One hand slides between us, his thumb finding my clit. The dual sensation pushes me over the edge again, my second orgasm even more intense than the first. I cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure pulses through me.

He follows moments later, his rhythm faltering as he drives deep one final time, his body tensing above me as he finds his release. The sound he makes—half groan, half my name—is something I want to hear again and again.

For several heartbeats, we stay joined, his forehead pressed against mine as we catch our breath. Then he kisses me softly, almost reverently, before carefully withdrawing and disposing of the condom.

When he returns to bed, he pulls me against his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath my ear. I expect him to drift back to sleep, or maybe suggest breakfast. What I don’t expect is the way his arms tighten around me, or the serious tone in his voice when he finally speaks.

“That was...” he pauses, searching for words. “You’re something else, Ruby Wilson.”

I smile against his skin, oddly pleased by his loss for words. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dover.”

His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. “High praise from a woman who’s been keeping men at arm’s length for years.”

I prop myself up on one elbow to look at him, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“Background check,” he admits, not looking remotely apologetic. “Plus, it’s obvious in how you carry yourself. You don’t let people get close easily.”

I should be annoyed that he’s read me so accurately, but there’s something disarming about his directness.

“Part of the job description for a bodyguard? Psychoanalyzing your clients?”

“Just observation.” His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. “And you’re not just a client anymore.”

The simple statement hangs between us, loaded with implications neither of us seems ready to voice. What exactly am I to him now? What is he to me? Two days ago, he was an unwanted intrusion in my life. Now he’s... essential, somehow.

Before I can formulate a response, his phone buzzes on the nightstand. Clay sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead before reaching for it.

“I should check that,” he says, glancing at the screen. “Could be about Holloway.”

I nod, secretly relieved for the interruption. Whatever’s happening between us is moving at warp speed, and I need a moment to catch my breath.

“I’ll make coffee,” he says, sliding out of bed and pulling on a pair of boxers. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I reply, admiring the view as he walks to the door.

Once he’s gone, I flop back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling as reality crashes back. I’m in Clay Dover’s bed. I’ve spent the night having mind-blowing sex with a man I barely know, while somewhere out there, a dangerous criminal is looking for me.

I should be terrified. I should be planning my next move, figuring out how to protect myself. Instead, I’m lying here replaying the way Clay’s mouth felt between my thighs, the way his eyes darkened when he came inside me.

What is happening to me?

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