Page 5 of Beastly Mountain Man

“Mine.”

I wrench back, jaw wet, and replace my mouth with my thumb. One brutal thrust, and I’m knuckle-deep inside her. Her gasp is nothing but broken pieces.

“From now on, this is mine.”

No sharing. No mercy. If another man so much as looks at her… My skin crawls, muscles coiling with the need to ruin whoever dares.

Flattening my tongue against her clit, I suck the nub between my lips and swirl my tongue, distracting her as I swap my thumb with my index finger.

Tight. So fucking tight, her cunt clenches around my finger like it’s starving. When I add a second, her breath fractures into a whimper. A third? Impossible. That virginal ring won’t yield—not yet.

My rabbit’s never been touched. I snarl into her heat, my cock straining against my zipper. Precum soaks the denim, the ache brutal. Theneed is evenworse.

I grind against the mattress, the friction a pale substitute for what I crave: Her legs forcing wider. Her nails in my back. That fragile barrier giving way as I sink into her in one solid thrust as I plunge into her wet heat.

A moan rumbles against her folds—half hers, half mine—as my fingers curl, searching for the spot that’ll make her scream.

Once I find her g-spot, she arches against my mattress, her thighs clamping against my ear as I make her come hard enough to leave her speechless.

A soundless scream, lips parted, back arched like a drawn bow. Her release floods my mouth, hot and slick, and I groan against her, drinking her down like a man starved. I don’t miss a drop—won’t miss a drop. Not when she tastes like this.

When I finally pull back, her chest heaves, eyes glazed. Wrecked.

Staring down at her, I can’t help the smirk that comes to my lips.

I’ve shown her that I can satisfy her. Now, I have to show I can take care of her.

Once my rabbit realizes she doesn’t need to leave, I’ll keep her here for the rest of our days.

3

June

Okay, I did not plan on spending my afternoon in a stranger’s cabin. Nor did I ever dream of having his face tucked between my thighs, either.

Carpe diem.

Now look at me, sitting at his table with a steaming hot bowl of stew in front of me. Beside me, the sexiest man I’ve ever met, watching me like I’m the meal—elbows propped on the table, gaze heavy enough to pin me in place.

My hair is still wet from a shower, and he so graciously let me borrow a flannel shirt when I told him I had nothing to wear.Justa flannel shirt. Now I’m rewearing my underwear, because there’s no way I’m leaving my pussy bare.

Not when he devoured me so easilywithclothes on.

In an hour, I’ll have my clothes back. He’s washing them now. Once they’re clean, I’ll be on my way, hopefully with his assistance.

Acegrunts when I don’t rush to take a bite, choosing to push around the meat in the stew. Not that I think he’s done anything to it, my stomach just isn’t empty anymore. It’s got tingles and butterflies, and everything else.

“Do you have a phone I could use? I don’t know, a landline or something?” Swallowing thickly, I squirm beneath his gaze. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone today, and I’m already late.”

My toes curl against the hardwood floor as his brows lower.

“I’m not from around here, if you can’t tell.” Forcing a laugh, words keep tumbling from my lips. The butterflies are flapping their wings faster. “I don’t mean to intrude. I’ll get out of your hair in no time.”

He finally breathes, his expression stone. “No landline. Don’t need it.”

Everyone needs communication from time to time. What does this guy do to pass the time? He has to have friends. Even if he says no one lives around here, he must have neighbors.

Maybe that’s why he brought me here. He could be lonely.

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