Page 20 of My Ex-Military Mountain Man

"Completely," I assure him, reaching between us to guide him.

Our bodies join with a shared gasp of pleasure. Jack moves with controlled power, each thrust deliberate and deep. My hands explore the broad expanse of his back, tracing the contours of muscle and the occasional raised line of scar tissue.

"Nicole," he breathes against my neck. "You feel incredible."

The genuine wonder in his voice touches something beyond desire. This isn't just physical relief for him. It's connection, perhaps the first real human connection he's allowed himself in years.

I wrap my legs around his waist, changing the angle slightly, drawing him deeper. The building pleasure is different this time—slower, deeper, more all-encompassing.

"Jack," I gasp as the tension builds again. "I need..."

Understanding immediately, he shifts his weight to one arm, his other hand moving between us to where we're joined. His touch is precise, confident, drawing me rapidly toward the edge.

"Let go," he murmurs, his eyes holding mine. "I've got you."

The intensity of my release catches me by surprise, my body arching beneath him as waves of pleasure crash through me. Jack watches as he maintains his steady rhythm, drawing out my pleasure before his own control finally slips.

With a low groan, he buries his face against my neck, his body tensing as he finds his own release. For several moments we remain connected, our breathing gradually slowing, his weight a pleasant pressure atop me.

When he finally moves, it's with obvious reluctance, shifting to lie beside me rather than withdrawing completely. His arm drapes across my waist, keeping me close.

We lay in comfortable silence for several minutes, the afternoon light casting golden patterns across the bed. Jack's hand traces lazy patterns on my skin, as if memorizing the feel of me.

"I didn't plan this," I say finally, turning my head to look at him.

His expression is more open than I've seen it yet—relaxed, almost peaceful.

"Neither did I." A small smile touches his lips. "Obviously."

I laugh softly. "Obviously?"

"Five years without..." He hesitates. "This. Anyone. I've been very dedicated to my isolation."

The admission is both surprising and not. The sanctuary's remoteness, Jack's careful boundaries… Everything about his life seems designed to prevent exactly this kind of connection.

"Why me?" I ask, genuinely curious. "Why now?"

Jack considers this, his fingers still tracing patterns on my skin.

"You saw me," he says finally. "Not just the scars or the isolation. You saw the sanctuary for what it really is. What it means." He pauses, searching for words. "You saw without judging."

The simple truth of his answer touches me deeply. Before I can respond, Jack continues. "Plus, you're extraordinarily beautiful, Dr. Nicole. I may be isolated, but I'm not blind."

I laugh, delighted by this glimpse of humor. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Mercer."

His eyes darken with renewed desire. "Everywhere?"

In answer, I push against his shoulder, urging him onto his back. He goes willingly, his hands settling on my hips as I straddle him.

"My turn," I say, confident in a way that brings a look of appreciation to his face.

I take my time, exploring his body with my hands and mouth, learning which touches make his breath catch, which make his fingers tighten on my skin. The scars that mark him become part of this exploration—not avoided, not fetishized, simply accepted as part of the landscape of his body.

When I finally sink down onto him again, taking him deep inside me, the sensation is even more intense than before. From this position, I can watch his face as pleasure overtakes him, can control the pace and depth to draw out our shared enjoyment.

Jack's hands roam from my hips to my breasts, his touch alternating between gentle and firm, reading my responses with remarkable attentiveness. When I begin to move faster, chasing the building tension, his hands return to my hips, helping to guide my movements.

"You're incredible," he says, his voice rough with desire. "The way you look right now..."

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