Page 13 of Stolen By the Mountain Man

“This might help,” I said.

I began moving my finger over her clit again, closing my eyes and listening to the noise coming through the speakers that lined the room while she worked on pushing past the pain. It wasn’t just that I had to hold back my own arousal. I was doing everything I could not to think about how much this was hurting her. If I thought about it, I might end this now.

“I don’t know if I can go any deeper, but that’s starting to feel good,” she said.

Her movements were shallow, but that was fine by me. I could come this way…as long as she got off first. I didn’t know if that was possible with the pain, but I was sure as hell going to try.

I’d die trying.

“Yes, just like that,” she said. “It’s starting to feel good. Oh, fuck.”

There was that word again. That was a good sign. I traced my thumb around her nipple, pinching the beaded tip between my thumb and forefinger, as I’d done before.

She gasped, and I knew that had been a good move. It would take time to learn what my future wife liked in bed, especially since she was just learning it herself. But I’d have fun every step of the way.

As she gasped again, I felt her walls contracting around my cock, and it tested the last of my restraint. I could feel free to come now if I wanted, but I didn’t. Instead, I continued to focus on her until she began moving again, the quiet gasps slowing to a full stop.

And then she did something that shocked me, ramping up my erection again. She was moving deeper now. Only slightly, but enough for me. I settled my hands on her hips, not guiding her, just helping her balance as she moved on me.

I pictured us in a movie theater, people behind us having no idea what was going on, and that pushed me over the edge. I thought about keeping quiet as part of the fantasy, but fuck that. Instead, I let out a series of grunts and moans that probably rattled the walls.

Finally, I guided her to a stop, letting her know I was fully spent. Only then did she climb off me and turn, smiling down at me.

“That was my first time,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t warn you.”

Oh yeah, the virgin thing. I supposed it could be considered withholding important information, but since we’d never discussed anything the slightest bit sexual, how could I have expected she would have told me? Maybe, like me, she still saw a possible out up until the day we stood in front of an officiant and said, “I do.”

Daphne might have met me and not wanted to sleep with me at all. Instead, she’d met me and wanted to give her virginity to me. And that touched me more than anything ever had.

“Let’s get dressed,” I said. “I’ll remake our dessert.”

Her eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“Brownies with ice cream.”

It was probably a soggy mess over there, but it was well worth it. Plus, there was plenty more where that came from. There was plenty more of everything. Anything my girl wanted. I’d make sure of that.

7

HELENA

Yesterday was my last day as a virgin. That was why I was humming to myself as I shuffled around Isaac’s kitchen, preparing dinner.

He was at work, leaving me in this big house alone. I’d even gotten bored enough that I pulled out my laptop and did some work on my portfolio. I didn’t have the Wi-Fi password, and cell service up here was pretty much non-existent, so I couldn’t use my phone as a hotspot. But that was a good thing. I’d gotten work done that I normally would have put off, thanks to not having the distraction of social media and texts from friends.

By the time I heard the subtle hum of an engine, followed by a car door shutting, the table was set, and the dinner of chicken and rice was on the table. Isaac had given me a quick tour around his kitchen before leaving that morning, and after a quick inventory of his groceries, I told him I’d have dinner ready when he got home from work.

This was a life I could get used to.

I turned toward the stairs to the basement as I waited for signs that my fiancé was climbing the steps. Nothing but silence, though.

I was just thinking maybe I should have put on something sexier when three loud knocks made me jump. They weren’t the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Come to think of it, the car sounds outside had been too close to have been around back, where he parked.

Someone was here.

Oh crap, this wasn’t my house. What was I supposed to do? Should I answer the door? What if it was one of his friends or a neighbor? How did I explain who I was and why I was in his house when he was at work?

Moving as quietly as I could, I headed to the front door, looking for a peephole as I went. No luck there. The only choice I had was to peek through the open blinds on the big windows and hope whoever it was didn’t see me peering out.

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