Page 13 of Mountain Daddy

His strokes go impossibly deeper. Each one hits a spot inside me that sends shockwaves through my system. My hands scramble for a tether, finding only silk sheets that slide through my fingers.

I'm climbing again. Building toward a third peak I didn't know was possible. My body is one raw nerve, hyper aware of every point where we touch.

“One more,” he urges, voice strained. “One more time for me, Lilly.”

My name in his mouth sounds like a prayer and a curse. Sacred and profane.

“I can't,” I whimper, overwhelmed by sensation.

“You can,” he insists. One hand releases my leg to find my clit, circling it with his thumb. “And you will.”

The added stimulation is too much. I break apart for the third time, walls clenching around him, vision blurring at the edges. This orgasm is different—deeper, almost painful in its intensity. It tears through me like a tsunami, destroying everything in its path.

“Fuck!” he shouts, following me over the edge again. His hips slam into mine one final time as he empties himself inside me.

We collapse together, sweaty and spent. He rolls to the side to avoid crushing me, but keeps one arm draped across my waist, one leg thrown over mine.

“Holy shit,” I whisper when I can finally speak again.

He chuckles. “Appropriate response.”

“I've never...” I trail off, not sure how to articulate what I'm feeling.

“Had three orgasms in one night?” he finishes for me.

I turn my head to look at him. “I've barely had one during sex before, let alone three.”

He looks genuinely surprised, then smug.

I should feel awkward. Should feel the urge to grab my clothes and run. Instead, I curl into his side, oddly comfortable in this strange man's arms.

“Stay the night,” he says.

It’s not a question.

Not quite a command either.

I nod against his chest. “Okay.”

He pulls the covers over us both, tucks me closer against him. I feel his lips press against the top of my head, a gesture almost too tender after the roughness of the sex.

My eyelids grow heavy. The combination of three earth-shattering orgasms and the late hour pulls me toward sleep. The last thing I remember is his hand stroking lazy patterns on my back, and thinking that I should probably regret this in the morning.

But I don't.

When I wake, sunlight streams through windows. My body aches in places I didn't know could ache. I stretch, feeling the pleasant soreness between my legs, and reach across the bed.

Empty.

I sit up, looking around the bedroom. His clothes are gone. Mine are neatly folded on a chair by the bed.

“Nikolai?” I call out.

No answer.

I slide out of bed, wincing slightly, and pad naked to the bathroom.

Empty.

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