Page 26 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Surprise
"Keep your hands on the headboard," I tell her. "I want you to hold on tight while I fuck you."
Her eyes widen, but she obeys, gripping the wooden slats above her head. The position arches her back, pushing her breasts up toward me, and I have to take a moment to appreciate the sight.
"So fucking beautiful," I murmur, then start to push inside her slowly.
She's so wet and warm, and when I'm finally seated fully inside her, we both groan with relief. "You feel incredible," I tell her, staying still to let her adjust. "So perfect around my cock."
"Move," she begs. "Please move."
"Not yet." I lean down to capture one nipple in my mouth, making her arch beneath me. "I want to feel you squeeze me first. Clench those muscles around my cock."
She does, and the sensation makes me groan. "That's it. Again."
We play this game for several minutes, her following my commands while I torment us both with stillness. By the time I finally start to move, she's panting with need.
"Harder," she gasps as I establish a rhythm.
"Ask nicely."
"Please fuck me harder. I need more."
"Good girl." I give her what she wants, picking up the pace until the bed frame creaks with each thrust. The sounds she makes, the way she moves beneath me, it's all driving me toward the edge.
"Touch yourself," I command, my voice rough with strain. "Rub your clit while I fuck you."
She releases one hand from the headboard to slide between us, her fingers finding her swollen nub. The added sensation makes her pussy clench around me, and I have to grit my teeth to maintain control.
"Look at me," I tell her. "I want to see your face when you come on my cock."
Her eyes lock with mine, and I can see her climbing toward release. "That's it, sweetheart. Let me see how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me."
She breaks apart with a cry, her pussy clamping down on me like a vise. The sensation pushes me over the edge, and I follow her into bliss, burying myself deep as I come harder than I have in years.
We collapse together, breathing hard, and I immediately shift into caretaking mode. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
"No," she says, her voice soft and sated. "That was perfect."
I pull out carefully and reach for the water glass on my nightstand. "Drink this," I tell her, helping her sit up. "You need to stay hydrated."
She drinks obediently while I grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom. "Let me clean you up," I say, gently wiping between her legs.
"You don't have to..."
"I want to." I toss the cloth aside and pull her back into my arms. "This is part of taking care of you. All of it."
She curls against my chest, and I can feel some of the tension leaving her body. "Rosco?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me feel beautiful. For making me feel wanted. For making me feel like a woman again instead of just a problem to be solved."
I tilt her chin up so I can see her face. "You never have to thank me for that. Taking care of you, making you feel good, that's my privilege."
"I think I'm falling for you," she whispers, and the vulnerability in her voice makes my chest tight.
