Page 43 of Mountain Summons

Lighter than what he really wanted to do to her. He wanted to strip her bare. He wanted to lift her in his arms, wrapping her smooth legs around his hips as he entered her slowly. She’d be so tight, so?—

“I’m serious, Tristan.” Her breathing sounded as uneven as his. That was a relief. “We both know we’re going to do this. Let’s be smart about it.”

Her pragmatic words—which were soher—made him smile. He slid his hand down her back, tracing the dip of her spine through her sweater, using the moment to center himself. “Okay, sweetheart. Tell me how you think we should do this.” His lips brushed her temple, the warmth of her skin sending waves of heat through him.

She considered for a moment, lips parting slowly, then smiled. And fuck, that smile?—

It was slow, wicked, dangerous. “I think you should take off your top and lie down,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”

Tristan’s cock jumped at the suggestion, reacting as if she’d been talking directly to it. He—and his cock—were used to taking the lead. But damn if he wasn’t willing to let her have her way—especially if it meant her hands on him, her mouth on him, her?—

The thought of her in control was so fucking sexy.

A smirk played at his lips as he reached for the hem of his shirt. “That so?”

She nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Let me take care of you.”

That was it. That was the moment his self-restraint snapped like a brittle rope.

He yanked his shirt over his head in one swift motion and tossed it to the floor. Her gaze flicked down, lingering on his chest, his stomach, and hopefully on the ridge of his cock, straining powerfully against the waist of his sweatpants.

Please let her touch my cock.

His cock, which was full-on weeping by now.

Her lips parted slightly.

He took advantage of the distraction, stepping in close, catching her chin between his fingers. “You want to take care of me?” he murmured. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, teasing. “Or do you just want an excuse to put your hands all over me?”

“Both.” Lena didn’t hesitate. She pushed gently on his chest. Tristan allowed himself to fall back on the bed. A controlled fall, because he wasn’t an idiot.

“Then you’d better get started,” he said, voice rough, full of challenge.

Her wicked smile widened as she pressed against him, her hands all over his shoulders, his stomach. Her finger found its way inside the waist of his sweatpants. Exploring. Moving slowly, so slowly, until, finally, her fingers wrapped against his length.

Fuck. His pulse slammed into overdrive.

His cock wept—with joy, this time.

He wanted to apologize for making a mess on her hand, but all he could think about was one word. Three letters.

Yes.

Please hold on and don’t let me go.

“You feel so big,” she whispered. Her fingers tightened against his cock, and then she started moving. Up and down. Up and down. Slowly. Tortuously.

God help him, that felt good.

He was going to come all over her hand, if he wasn’t careful. All over his sweatpants. Another part of him—the part that wasnothis cock—rebelled against the thought.

No.

“I want to see you naked first.”

I want to bring you pleasure.

“I can remove my clothes,” she said easily, smiling. “But that means I’ll have to stop touching you.”

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