Page 20 of S'more Mountain Man

He withdrew almost completely before thrusting back in, setting a rhythm that had me seeing stars—appropriately enough for an astronomy camp. Each deep, relentless stroke drove me closer to the edge, his rhythm powerful and unyielding. My fingers raked over his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as heat coiled tighter and tighter in my belly. When his thumb found my clit again, I shattered, crying out as my orgasm tore through me—blinding, raw, and so intense I saw stars behind my eyelids. He followed with a deep groan, his body tensing as he pulsed inside me, buried to the hilt.

"Cassiopeia," I whispered against his shoulder once I could form words again, biting gently at the muscle there.

He paused, looking down at me with confusion. "What?"

"The constellation." I smiled, tracing the W-shape on his back. "Five stars. Right here on your skin."

He laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine. "Only you would think of constellations right now."

"Occupational hazard." I rolled my hips, drawing a groan from him. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning to." He dipped his head to capture my mouth, resuming his movements with renewed intensity.

We moved together in the dim light, the only sounds our mingled breaths and the occasional creak of the tent. His hand slipped between us again, finding the bundle of nerves that sent electric shocks through my system.

"Leif," I gasped, feeling the tension building within me. "I'm close."

"Let go," he urged, his rhythm becoming more insistent. "I've got you."

And I did, crying out as waves of pleasure crashed over me. He followed moments later, his face buried in my neck, my name a prayer on his lips.

For a long time afterward, we lay tangled together, his weight half on me, half on the sleeping bag. I traced idle patterns on his sweat-slicked back, mapping galaxies in the dips and curves of his muscles.

"That was..." I started, then trailed off, unable to find adequate words.

"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "It was."

Eventually, he shifted to lie beside me, pulling me against his chest. The sleeping bag was barely big enough for both of us, but I didn't mind the close quarters. His heartbeat steadily beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, fingers playing with a strand of my hair.

"That this is not how I expected my emergency camp counselor gig to end." I tilted my head to look up at him. "But I'm not complaining."

"Neither am I." His expression was softer than I'd seen it before, the hard lines of his face relaxed in the aftermath. His eyes, usually so guarded, held a warmth that made my chest tighten.

"Do you do this often? Rescue damsels in distress and then seduce them on starry nights?"

He snorted. "You're the first damsel. And I'm pretty sure you seduced me."

"Joint effort." I replied lightly, marveling at how comfortable I felt with him despite the newness of it all. "But seriously. Why me? You don't exactly seem like the type to go for..." I gestured vaguely at myself.

"For?"

"Well, chatty teachers who get lost in the woods and can't change a tire."

His brow furrowed. "You think that matters to me?"

"I don't know what matters to you," I admitted. "That's kind of my point. We're practically strangers."

"Not anymore." His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. He brought our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles with a tenderness that made my heart flutter. "And for the record, I don't do this. Ever. Not since..."

He trailed off, and I felt him tense slightly beneath me.

"Since what?" I prompted gently.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then, so quietly I almost missed it: "Since the fire."

I waited, sensing there was more, giving him space to continue or not. My thumb stroked the back of his hand in silent encouragement.

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