Page 9 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Challenge
Fuck.
Pink bra. Thin straps. Soft cups that barely contained her. My fingers itched to pull them down. My mouth actually ached.
But I didn’t touch her there yet. Instead, I dragged the back of my knuckles over the curve of her waist, then up to her ribs, slow enough to feel every little tremble.
She sucked in a breath. “You’re making me crazy.”
“Good.”
Her hands tugged at my shirt. I let her pull it over my head, and she tossed it somewhere behind us, her eyes raking over me like I was the one being unwrapped.
I bent my head and kissed her again—deeper this time, more sure. My hands slid around to her back, pressing her against me as I walked her backward until her spine met one of the tower’s support beams.
She gasped at the cool surface but didn’t pull away. If anything, she arched into me.
My hands wandered lower, finding the waistband of her shorts—the ones she’d changed into before leaving my cabin tohead to Hartsville. I popped open the button, then paused, my forehead resting against hers.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
She shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Tell me if you’re nervous.”
“I’m not,” she whispered.
“You should be,” I said, brushing my lips over hers. “Because I’m trying real fucking hard not to fall for you. And it’s not working.”
Her breath hitched. Then she said, “Good.”
And that was all I needed.
I eased down her zipper, my fingers grazing skin I was already addicted to. She was watching me now, wide-eyed, lips parted. That mix of innocence and confidence was doing me in.
I wanted to take my time, so I did. I dropped to my knees and ran my hands slowly down the backs of her thighs, dragging her shorts with me. And I looked up at her like she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Because shewasthe most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
She stood in front of me, braced against the beam, as I dropped her shorts to her ankles. She stepped out of them, breathing like she couldn’t catch up to what was happening—and didn’t want to.
Her thighs were trembling. Not from fear, but from need. And I needed to taste her.
I hooked my fingers in her waistband and tugged her underwear down slowly, letting my knuckles graze her legs as I went. I kissed the inside of one knee as I dropped the flimsy garment to the floor, then shifted closer as she kicked them off to the side.
She gasped as I slid my hands up the backs of her thighs, nudging her legs apart just enough to settle between them. Thefire tower creaked around us. A bird called in the distance. Somewhere below, the wind stirred the trees.
But all I could hear was her breath. “Collin…”
I looked up. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, her fingers gripping the beam like she might float away.
“You good?” I asked, voice low.
She nodded. But I didn’t move yet. I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. Then another. Then another—higher. She whimpered, hips shifting forward.
I smiled against her skin. “Still good?”
“Yes,” she said, breathless. “Please.”
That word did something to me. I didn’t make her wait again.
I leaned in and tasted her, slow and careful, like she was something to be savored. Her body jolted, her fingers flexing against the beam behind her. She was so wet. So sweet. So fucking mine, even if we hadn’t said it out loud yet.
