Page 14 of Snowed-in With The Mountain Man
I pause, needing absolute certainty. "Don’t think I don’t want this, because Fuck knows I do. But I need to be sure you are sure. There’s going back after this for me."
In answer, she kisses me deeply, fingers working the buttons of my flannel. "Completely sure. I've never been more certain of anything."
I kick the door shut behind us, laying her gently on my bed. Outside, the blizzard rages on, snow piling higher against the windows, wind howling around the eaves. But inside this room, there is only warmth.
CHAPTER SIX
STELLA
The world narrows to Ridge's bedroom, to his hands on my skin, to the weight of him pressing me into his mattress. Outside, the blizzard rages on, but in here there is only heat and hunger and eight years of wanting finally unleashed.
"Tell me again," Ridge whispers against my throat, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you dreamed about."
I arch beneath him as his teeth graze my pulse point. "Your hands. Your mouth. You inside me."
"Show me exactly where you want my hands." His palm slides over my ribs, pausing just beneath my breast. "Guide me."
I've never been so bold with a lover before, but Ridge's eyes hold such reverence that my usual shyness evaporates. I cover his hand with mine, bringing it up to cup my breast fully. "Here." I guide his other hand lower, over my stomach, to the waistband of my leggings. "And here."
A groan rumbles through his chest as he captures my mouth again, kissing me deeply while his fingers slip beneath elastic to find me already slick with want. The first touch of his calloused fingertip against my center sends lightning through my veins.
"So wet already," he murmurs, wonder in his voice. "Is this all for me?"
"Only you." I gasp as his finger circles exactly where I need him. "It's always been you, Ridge."
His eyes darken at my words, pupils blown wide with desire. "I've imagined this so many times. Touching you. Tasting you. Making you come apart in my hands."
"Show me," I challenge, emboldened by the hunger in his gaze. "Make the fantasy real."
He pulls back just enough to help me out of my sweater, his breath catching as I reach behind to unclasp my bra. The reverence in his eyes as he looks at me makes me feel beautiful in a way I haven't in years.
"Perfect," he breathes, lowering his head to press open-mouthed kisses across my collarbone, down to the swell of my breast. "Even better than I imagined."
When his lips close around my nipple, I cry out, back arching off the bed. His tongue circles the sensitive peak before he sucks gently, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. My hands fist in his hair, holding him against me as he lavishes attention on one breast, then the other.
"Ridge," I gasp when his hand resumes its exploration between my thighs. "Please."
"Please what?" He looks up, eyes glittering with something almost predatory. "Tell me what you need, Stella. I want to hear you say it."
"Your mouth," I whisper, past caring about modesty or propriety. "I want your mouth on me."
A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. "Where, exactly?"
I guide his head lower, words failing as desire consumes me. He understands, helping me out of my leggings and underwear until I'm completely bare beneath him. He settles between mythighs, broad shoulders pushing them wider, his hot breath teasing my most sensitive skin.
"Look at me," he commands softly, waiting until our eyes lock. "I want to watch you while I taste you for the first time."
The first brush of his tongue against me nearly undoes me completely. His groan vibrates against my center as he explores with deliberate thoroughness, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me moan, what makes my thighs tremble around his head.
"You taste like heaven," he murmurs, voice vibrating against my flesh. "Better than all my fantasies."
When he slides one finger inside me, then another, curling them to hit the spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids, I cry out his name. He watches my face with fierce concentration, green eyes never leaving mine as he brings me higher.
"That's it," he encourages when my hips begin to rock against his mouth. "Let go for me, Stella. I've waited eight years to see you come."
The combination of his words, his fingers pumping steadily inside me, and his mouth working relentlessly against my center sends me hurtling over the edge. The orgasm crashes through me with unexpected intensity, wave after wave of pleasure radiating outward as I come apart beneath him.
Before I've fully recovered, he's moving up my body, shedding his remaining clothes until there's nothing between us but heated skin. His erection presses hot and hard against my thigh, and I reach between us to wrap my hand around his length.
