Page 64 of Mountain Wood

“What does that mean?”

She knowsexactlywhat I’m fucking talking about. But just in case she wants to hear it in detail, I’ll make sure my meaning is clear. “I’m going to want to fuck you,” I say, crawling onto the bed with her. “Until you shake the rafters of my house when you scream my goddamn name.”

“Is that all?”

“Isn’t that bad enough?”

She leans back on the bed, luring me closer until I’m straddling her. “I’d rather you fuck me until I scream your name and cause an avalanche.”

I cock my eyebrow. “That can definitely be another option.”

Grace unbuttons my shirt. My heart slams against my bones, my dick’s so hard it hurts in my jeans. I kiss her a couple times before trailing down her body and peel her pants down. I unlace her boots and toss them over my shoulder, letting them fall wherever they land. Then I slip her legs out of her jeans and rip her underwear in half.

“Hey!” She laughs. “Don’t make a habit of that, buddy. I only brought so many pair.”

“For as long as you stay here, you won’t need a single one of them.”

I press my mouth against her pussy, shocked at how wet she is. I can’t believe Grace is this turned on by me… or the way my house smells. It’s flattering on a very primal, beautiful level. I love it.

Unbuckling my pants, I whip my dick out and spit on my palm. She makes this little gasp that has me looking up at her again. Grace’s cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are big. Hungry.

Testing her boundaries, I spit on her pussy next.

A little noise rumbles out of her. I think she likes it.

Our gazes remain bolted on one another until I lower down and lick her pussy again. I’m not sure who enjoys this more, but when Grace lays back and lets me feast, I think it’s me. Stroking my dick while I tongue-fuck her, I’m certain this addiction to her cunt is going to be the death of me.

If we’re admitting what scents we love, I have to say hers is far more intoxicating. She’s like spring and winter mixed. Crisp and sweet like an apple, but musky and heady like… a woman.

Grace grabs a handful of my hair, pulling it by the roots while her thighs lock around my head. “Dean,” she moans, grinding against my face.

I latch onto her clit and shove two fingers inside her cunt while jerking myself with my free hand faster. I inhale deeply, letting her scent fill my lungs.

We go off at the same time. She convulses on the bed, her juices flowing onto my tongue and the actsends me over the cliff too. I come all over my hand and bedspread.

When I’m certain she’s satisfied, I stand up and put my cock away again. She lies on her back, arm draped over her eyes while she catches her breath. “Promise me something, Dean.”

“Anything.”

“If I stroke out from coming too hard, bury me here.”

“That’s… sweetly morbid.”

She sits up. “I think you’ve already ruined me. I haven’t even been here one night, and I’m already pissed I can’t stay forever.”

I hate that my heart perks up at the possibility that she’d really want that. “Once the newness wears off, you’ll change your mind.” I kiss her nose, to make light of it, and buckle my belt. “I have to at least get the drywall up today, so I’m going to have to leave you again. Want to come back down with me to grab your car now or later?”

“Forget my car. I’m coming to help you with the drywall.”

“Grace.”

She shoves a manicured finger at me and narrows her eyes. “I know where you sleep. Don’t think I won’t kill you if you deny me this.”

Her death threats are adorable. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Now you’re learning.” She crawls off the bed and puts her pants back on, sans panties. “This is going to be fun.”

“We should probably pack lunch.”