Page 12 of Mountain Daddy

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the night air. Anyone in the surrounding buildings could see us if they looked, but I don't care. Let them watch. Let them see how this man is destroying me in the best possible way.

“I'm close again,” I whimper, surprised at myself.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice strained with his own approaching climax. “Come on my cock like it’s yours.”

His words push me over. The second orgasm hits harder than the first—deeper, fuller, spreading outward from where we're joined. I cry his name again, nails digging crescents into his skin.

He follows me over the edge, hips stuttering, face buried in my neck as he groans his release. His weight collapses on me, pinning me to the chaise, and for a moment, we just breathe together.

I’ve never felt so alive. I want to relish this moment.

Still half-hard,Nikolai pulls out and stands. He holds a hand to me, and I stand, falling into his broad chest.

He kisses me once, then scoops me up into his arms, bridal style.

I yelp. “Nikolai! What the?—”

But he manages to slap my ass, making me squeak.

“Don’t question me. ”

I moan.

My body should be sated.Should be begging for rest. Instead, I feel a fresh wave of arousal at his words.

He carries me into a bedroom as luxurious as the rest of the suite. The bed is massive, with white silk sheets that look soft.

He places me onto it, surveying me with a look that sees everything. I’m so turned on by this man, I can’t believe it. With a sexy growl he's on me again, kissing my breasts, making me beg.

“Fuck me. I want it,” I moan.

He flips me onto my stomach, tugging me to the edge of the bed, and nudges my legs apart. I arch for him, breasts pressed into the mattress, legs spread for him to see… everything.

“That’s right, baby. Show me you want it,” he commands.

He captures both wrists over my head in one large hand, pinning them to the bed.

The position leaves me completely at his mercy. Vulnerable. Exposed.

Exactly where I want to be right now.

I feel the bulge of him pressing against me, rubbing between my ass and down to my entrance, up and down he strokes me until I’m quivering with need. Finally, I feel him enter me from behind. My body adjusts to the new angle, and he presses deeper than before. I cry out into the mattress, the sound muffled by silk.

“I want to hear you,” he growls, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling just so. “Every sound. Every gasp. Every time I make you fall apart. ”

“Yes,”I moan, the slight pain in my scalp mixing with pleasure until I can't tell them apart.

His thrusts are powerful, exquisite, relentless. The slap of his hips against my ass echoes in the room. His grip on my wrists reminds me who is in control.

Then he leans forward, still keeping his pace, and his lips find my shoulder. He bites down—not quite breaking skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.

I cry out, the pain-pleasure combination overwhelming. He soothes the spot with his tongue, then moves lower, finding the side of my breast exposed by my position. Another bite, another cry.

“Mine,” he growls against my skin. “Tonight, you're mine.”

“Yours,” I agree without hesitation.

He releases my wrists, and flips me onto my back. His hands hook under my knees, pushing them toward my chest until I'mfolded nearly in half. The position leaves me completely open to him, and he takes full advantage.

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