Page 23 of Mountain Daddy

I can feel her tightening around me, getting close. Her breathing becomes ragged, desperate little sounds escaping her throat.

“Come for me,” I demand, shifting the angle to hit that spot that makes her scream. “Come on my cock like a good little girl.”

And then, she comes.

She comes like the storm. Fierce. Her body writhes and twists into a thing of beauty. I feel her pleasure like it’s mine.

And when she closes her eyes, bites into her lip to stay tethered, I know I can’t hold back much longer.

But I'm not ready to let go yet. Not until I've wrung every last drop of ecstasy from her body.

She shatters, back arching, nails digging into my shoulders as I release her wrists. She comes, wave after wave and only when her back hits the bed, do I give in.

For a brief moment. There’s darkness and fire and ecstasy. There’s her. Nothing else. My sight implodes. I see stars. The pleasure sweeps from toe to head.

And then, I come back down to earth.

“Mine,” I growl against her throat as we both ride out the aftershocks. “You're mine, Lilly.”

She doesn’t say it back.

I should be afraid. Yet every instinct I have to run, to keep things simple, to never let anyone get close enough to matter, goes non-existent.

I feel like I’m home.

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7

LILLY

Ilie in his arms afterward, skin still buzzing like I’ve been struck by lightning. My head rests on his chest. I hear his heart thundering in my ear like horses running wild.

Lovemaking. Is that what this was?

I can’t call it just sex. This time, it felt heavier with meaning. Deeper. In the way he looked at me.

In the way he vowed me as his.

The possessiveness should terrify me. Should send me running for the hills. Instead, it makes me want to curl deeper into his arms and never leave.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. I shiver at the gentle touch.

“You okay?” he asks, voice rough with satisfaction.

“Mmm.” I turn my face to press a kiss to his chest.

He nods. I just lie there. Listen to him fall off to sleep. And then, dare myself to look up.

His hair is mussed from my fingers. When asleep, he looks softer. Younger. Less dangerous.

But he broke that man’s nose.

So what the hell am I doing? Staying in his arms? Wanting more? Thinking he’s someone I could fall for?

The thought sends me off-kilter.

I panic.

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