Page 76 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
We’re kids again. Shouting, laughing, carefree. For a while, nothing exists but splashing water, moonlight, and the sounds of us together.
But then the laughter softens. The splashing dies down. The air changes—thicker, slower, electric. Glances linger. Touches hold.
A hand skims my waist under the water. Another brushes my thigh. I don’t flinch. I don’t move away. I float, open, waiting.
Toby’s voice is first, low and teasing. “Well, well. Are we still playing games?”
Jack chuckles quietly from behind me, the sound rougher, more controlled, but he doesn’t speak.
Eric’s eyes find mine across the water. They’re wide, intent, searching me with a question he doesn’t voice. His lips part, but only a breath escapes.
Then Luke moves close. He doesn’t ask permission with words—he never does. He presses his body to my back, his arm sliding around my belly, his hand gliding up to my breast. Slow. Reverent. My nipple hardens under his palm.
I arch into him, and he groans against my ear.
“You want this?” he murmurs.
“You even have to ask?” I whisper back.
Jack steps in next—silent, commanding, every movement deliberate. His hand curls around the back of my neck, pulling me to his mouth. His kiss is rough, claiming, anchoring. He kisses like a man used to taking charge, but tonight willing to share the reins.
Then Toby is in front of me, grinning through the shadows, voice husky now, heat edging every word.
“Guess we’re warming up after all. You ready to get wild, Luna Wildchild?”
“I was born wild,” I whisper back. “Catch up.”
That’s all it takes.
Toby kisses me hard, bold hands roaming beneath the water, squeezing my ass, slipping between my thighs. His fingers find me slick, ready. He groans, grinding his cock against my stomach.
Behind me, Luke shifts lower. I feel the thick press of him sliding along my folds, slow, deliberate, teasing.
“Now, Luna?” he asks, his voice a growl.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Now.”
Luke pushes into me, inch by inch, until I cry out, the sound carrying through the trees. He fills me deep, his breath stuttering against my neck.
Eric edges closer, still quiet, but his touch is thoughtful, precise—fingers tracing my ribs, my hips, like he’s cataloging me for memory. When Luke thrusts, Eric leans in and kisses my throat, gentle and reverent, as though he’s memorizing the taste of my skin.
Toby pulls me forward slightly, letting Luke stay buried while he guides my hand to his cock. I stroke him beneath the water, slow at first, then faster, until his head drops back with a groan. He kisses me again—mouth, jaw, lower, teasing me with every brush of his lips.
Jack’s voice cuts through the night, deep and rough. “My turn.”
Luke slides out, and Eric steps in seamlessly, his body trembling as he sinks inside me. He fucks me like he’s studying a puzzle, careful and focused, every stroke deliberate, exact.
Behind me, Jack’s hands claim my hips. His fingers trace lower, probing at my ass. One finger circles, then presses in gently. I gasp, leaning back into his grip.
“Easy,” Jack murmurs, voice steady, grounding. Another finger joins, stretching me slowly, carefully, almost delicately. Taking his time, he slips his fingers in and out, waiting for my muscles to loosen and relax. Then I feel the hot nudge of his cock at my back entrance. He pauses.
“This okay?”
“Yes,” I pant. “God, yes.”
Eric holds me steady as Jack presses forward, stretching me, filling me. The sensation is overwhelming—front and back, both at once. Intense. Consuming.
“Fuck, Luna,” Jack growls, his voice raw. “You take us so damn well.”
