Page 16 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

"Tell me," he commands softly, his breath hot against my skin. "Tell me exactly what you need."

The words tumble out, unfiltered and raw. "I need your mouth on me. I need you inside me. I need you to make me forget everything but this."

A groan rumbles through his chest. His kisses trail lower, across my ribs, my stomach, to the edge of my underwear. His eyes meet mine, asking silent permission. I nod, lifting my hips to help as he slides the fabric down my legs.

Then his mouth is there, right where I need him most, and I cry out at the first touch of his tongue. His hands hold my thighs apart as he tastes me, one finger sliding inside to curl against that perfect spot.

"God, you taste amazing," he murmurs against me. "So sweet. So delicious."

I can't form words, can only moan as he adds another finger, stretching me deliciously as his tongue circles my clit. The pressure builds quickly, too quickly—it's been so long, and he's too good at this.

"Rhett, I'm going to—"

"Let go," he urges. "I want to feel you come on my tongue."

His words push me over the edge. I shatter with his name on my lips, my body arching off the bed as pleasure crashes through me in waves. I don’t feel pain any more, only pleasure. He works me through it, gentling his touch as I come down, trembling.

Before I can recover, he's moving up my body, claiming my mouth in a kiss that lets me taste myself on his lips. I reach for his jeans, impatient now.

"Off," I demand, fumbling with the button. "Now."

He chuckles, the sound deep and satisfied. "Yes, ma'am."

Clothes disappear in a frantic blur of hands and mouths. When he's finally naked before me, I can't help but stare in wonder. His cock is magnificent—thick and long, flushed dark with need, curving proudly toward his stomach. The sight of him makes my mouth water, my core clench with anticipation. This man is pure raw power—a force of nature barely restrained.

But then my gaze drops lower, to where flesh meets metal on his left leg. His body tenses, the vulnerability in his eyes breaking my heart.

I sit up, sliding to the edge of the bed. I reach out, my fingers hovering just above the junction. "Can I?"

He nods tightly, jaw clenched as if preparing for rejection.

I trace the edge gently, feeling the contrast between warm skin and cool prosthetic. Then I lean forward and press a kiss to the scarred skin just above it.

He inhales sharply. "Jade..."

I look up at him, my hand wrapping around his impressive length, feeling him pulse against my palm. "I want all of you, Rhett Sullivan. Every part."

Something feral flashes in his eyes—a man who's denied himself for too long finally given permission to take what he wants. In one smooth motion, he has me on my back, his powerful body covering mine as he settles between my thighs. I can feel him, hot and heavy against me, his control visibly fraying at the edges.

The head of his cock The stretch as he pushes inside me is exquisite, bordering on too much. I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders, leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.

"Okay?" he asks, his voice strained, body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"More than okay," I breathe. "Don't stop."

He begins to fuck me, and it's clear he's fighting a war with himself—wanting to be gentle with my injured body but desperate to claim me completely. His powerful thighs flex as he thrusts, each movement precise yet barely controlled. Years of solitude have left him starved for touch, and now he's feasting.

His hand slides between us, finding my clit with unerring accuracy, and I'm climbing again, faster this time. The contrast of his touch—those calloused mountain-man fingers so delicate against my most sensitive spot—undoes me completely.

"You feel incredible," he groans, his pace increasing, control slipping. "So tight. So perfect around me. Been so long... can't..."

"Harder," I urge, wrapping my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. "Please, Rhett."

Something snaps in him. His movements become fiercer, more primal, driving deeper, hitting a spot that makes me cry out with each thrust. Yet even in this unleashed state, there's care—his weight carefully distributed to avoid my injuries, his free hand cradling my head.

Our eyes lock, the rest of the world long gone. Words pour from me—filthy, desperate pleas for more, for faster, for harder.

"Come for me again," he commands, his voice a ragged growl that sends shivers down my spine. "I need to feel you come around my cock."

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