Page 9 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Runaway
He rose above me slightly, looking down. The window beside the bed let just enough light through that when I nodded, I knew he’d see it.
I placed a hand on each of his arms. The sensation of his muscles beneath my fingertips grounded me somehow. I felt safe.
He lowered himself, and his mouth covered mine—soft at first, then growing into the same hungry kiss we’d shared before. He kissed me until I was breathless. Until I was arching into him, his hands gliding over my waist, exploring.
His hands roamed over the thin fabric of my T-shirt, teasing, skimming just enough to make me ache. He stayed above the shirt for so long, I found myself squirming beneath him, arching my back, silently begging him to touch my bare skin.
Finally, I reached down between us. I took his hand and moved it, sliding it beneath the shirt. I felt like a teenager being touched for the first time. My breath hitched as his fingertips met my skin—warm and deliberate.
His hand slid upward, slow and confident, and I sighed into his mouth. He broke the kiss to look down at me, not saying a word. But I knew what he was asking.
My lips parted. I stared up at him and gave a small, certain nod. He held my gaze a moment longer. Then he moved.
His hand slid up my thigh, finally settling in the area between my legs. When his fingers brushed against the most sensitivepart of me, I gasped. My hips lifted instinctively, chasing the contact. I didn’t know what I was doing. Didn’t know what to expect.
But he did. He touched me like he knew exactly what I needed—soft strokes at first, exploring, learning the shape of my responses. I clenched the sheets beneath me, breath coming in short, shallow bursts.
“Logan,” I whispered.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice low and steady.
I felt the loss of his touch for only a moment before he kissed his way down my body. Over my stomach. My hips. And then he settled between my legs. I froze.
His hands slid beneath my thighs, lifting, opening me. I felt the first sweep of his tongue and jolted like I’d been struck by lightning. My hand flew to my mouth, trying to smother the sound that wanted to rip from my throat.
But he didn’t stop. He licked, kissed, tasted. He devoured me like I was his first meal after a long hunger. His tongue circled a spot that made my thighs tremble, then flattened and pressed, slowly, rhythmically, until my back arched off the mattress.
“Logan…” My fingers tangled in his hair.
He groaned against me, like my pleasure was his reward.
The coil inside me snapped, and I broke apart. I didn’t know what to call it, only that my body was clenching and gasping for something it had never known before.
He held me through it, mouth still gentle, until I was too sensitive to take another stroke. Only then did he pull back, rising over me, eyes dark and full of something I couldn’t name.
He reached for the condom and rolled it on with one practiced motion, then settled between my legs again, this time guiding himself to my entrance. “I’ll go slow. You tell me if it’s too much. I mean it.”
I nodded, still breathless. He pressed forward, carefully and slowly. I gasped again, not in pleasure this time, but from the pressure, the sharp stretch.
He stopped instantly. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’ll stop?—”
“No,” I said quickly, wrapping my legs around his hips to keep him close. “Just…go slowly.”
He went a little deeper, then paused. My hands gripped his shoulders. I focused on the feel of him, the heat of his skin, the rasp of his stubble against my cheek as he kissed the corner of my mouth.
“Breathe for me,” he whispered.
I did. The pain didn’t vanish, but it faded, dulled by the soft, slow circles of his thumb between my legs. He was still only halfway inside, but even that felt like too much and not enough at the same time.
Then he touched me again, more practiced and more purposeful this time, and the pain dissolved into something warmer. My hips tilted. I moaned.
“There you go,” he said.
The pleasure built faster this time, helped by the heat in his eyes, the reverence in the way he moved, the sure slide of his fingers coaxing something new from me again. That sensation rushed through me a second time, and I cried out into his neck.
That did it. He groaned, driving a little deeper before he found his release. His whole body went rigid above me, muscles trembling as he made a guttural sound.
For a long moment, we just breathed. Then he kissed my temple.
