Page 9 of Mountain Man's Pumpkin Spice
I couldn’t imagine anything less with Ashe.
“You okay?” he asked as he positioned his tip at my entrance. “We could do this on the ground, if it would be easier. Or go back to my place.”
I shook my head and wrapped my legs tighter around him. “I want it like this. Here. Now.”
He slid inside a couple of inches, then stopped. I didn’t realize until he froze, staring at me, that my hopeful expression was a mask of pain. My teeth were clenched, my face frozen in a full-on wince.
Of course, he was concerned. But the softness I saw in that normally steely stare went straight to my heart. He cared. And this went beyond just being a gentleman and a decent humanbeing. No, he was feeling something for me. And it was just as strong as what I was feeling for him.
“I’m going to try something,” he said. “Trust me?”
I nodded. I hoped my eyes conveyed that I trusted him with everything. With my body. My virginity. My heart.
He held my gaze. “Touch yourself. Move your fingers to that spot I licked.”
I’d never done that before, but now I understood why people did. If it brought the sensations I’d experienced just a few minutes ago, I’d do it a thousand times a day. And if it turned on my man? Even better. So I settled all my weight on my left palm and slid my right hand between us, leaning away from him so he could see.
His gaze was on my chest at first, and it was like a caress sliding over my beaded nipples. I’d waited all my life for a man to stare at my curves like that. A man who appreciated a pair of double-D breasts and hips that strained the seams of every piece of non-stretchy clothing I wore.
When my fingers made contact with my clit, his gaze darted downward immediately, his lids growing heavy. “Oh, fuck.”
Then his eyes slammed shut as he seemed to focus on his shallow movements. I was disappointed at first, an automatic reaction. But soon, I realized this was a good thing. He was holding back. Looking at me pushed him toward orgasm.
I smiled at that.
Ashe’s breath came in rough, uneven bursts as he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, letting me adjust to him. My fingers worked in tight circles, my body responding instantly—heat pooling low in my belly, my muscles clenching around him. The pain was still there, but it was distant now, drowned out by the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside me.
His jaw clenched, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” His breathwas ragged, his muscles taut with restraint. “That’s it. Just like that. Let yourself feel it.”
I did.
The pain was still there—a sharp, stretching ache—but it was nothing compared to the fire building between my thighs. Every slow thrust sent sparks through me, my hips rocking instinctively to meet him.
My fingers moved faster, my clit throbbing under my touch, and suddenly, the pain didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way he filled me, the way his cock dragged against my walls, the way his eyes darkened with hunger as he watched me unravel.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his hands tightening on my hips. “You feel so good.”
I whimpered, my back arching as pleasure coiled tighter, tighter… And then it broke. My orgasm crashed over me like a wave, my body clamping around him as a cry tore from my throat. The sound echoed through the night air, raw and unfiltered, and Ashe growled in response, his control snapping.
“Mine,” he snarled.
He slammed into me deeper than before, his hips jerking as he spilled inside me. Hot, thick pulses of cum filled me, his cock twitching with each surge, and I clung to him, trembling as aftershocks rippled through me.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of our ragged breaths, the night air cooling my skin. His forehead dropped to mine, his fingers tangling in my hair as he held me close.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender.
I nodded, still dazed, my legs loosening their grip around his waist. “Yeah. More than okay.”
He kissed me then, slow and deep, his tongue sliding against mine in a lazy, possessive caress. When he finally pulled away, his thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his gaze searching mine.
“Come back to my place,” he said, voice low. “I’ve got dessert. And a bed. A real bed.”
The offer was tempting—so tempting—but reality crashed back in. The inn. The coffee. The early morning.
“I can’t.” Regret was heavy in my voice. “I have to be up before dawn to make coffee for everyone.”
His expression shifted, something flickering in his eyes—surprise, then hurt, quickly masked. “Right. Of course.”
