Page 20 of Auctioned to the Mountain Man

His mouth curves, and one smile is all he has to show me to steal my heart. He’s so satisfied with one word.

“Please,what,Lily?”

Squirming beneath him, my hips try to lift. “I want you inside.”

Stating the obvious, I’m relieved all at once when he shoves my panties aside, introducing his fingers like it’s the first time all over again.

Before, I caved and hit my limit far too soon. Not wanting this to end, I try not to chase the pleasure that comes with his fingers stroking me where I’m most sensitive.

It’s like he’s already memorized my body. It’s unfair, and I know I’m entering a losing battle.

His fingers still working me with slow, maddening precision, he pulls back just enough to shove his boxers down, freeing his cock in one rough motion. My breath hitches at the sight—thick, flushed a deep, needy red, the head already glistening, his slit slick with arousal.

He gives himself a firm squeeze, dragging his thumb over the tip, and I whimper at the way his grip tightens, like he’s imagining it’s me instead.

He’s perfect.

His fingers finally leave me, and I whine at the loss—but then he’s there, the blunt head of his cock dragging through my slick, teasing me with just the barest pressure. He smears my arousal over himself, groaning low in his throat as he coats his length in it.

Without the patience to remove my underwear, his attention is glued to my current state.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “So fucking wet for me already.”

His tip catches at my entrance, and my hips jerk instinctively, seeking more, but he holds himself back, that infuriating control still in place. He reaches forward, his palm sliding over my stomach in a slow, possessive stroke—like he’s savoring the thought of what’s to come, and the result of acting so recklessly.

“Gonna fill you up so well,” he promises, his thumb pressing just below my navel, as if he can already imagine the way I’ll take him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I nod, breathless, my fingers digging into the sheets.

He doesn’t make me wait any longer.

With a sharp, throaty groan, he pushes his way inside, stretching me open with three shallow thrusts before finishing me off with one forward push.

I cry out, back arching as he bottoms out, his hips flush against mine. For a second, neither of us moves—just the heavy,shared panting between us, the unbearable heat of him buried deep.

Then he pulls back, almost out, before repeating the same motion. Three to tease, and one to leave me clawing at the threads beneath us.

Once he connects the dots that Icansurvive him, my vision whites out at the edges as he gives up on the shallow jerks of his hips.

“Fuck—” His voice is wrecked, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to ache. “Knew you’d feel like this. Knew you’d take me so perfectly.”

I can only gasp, fists shaking against the bunched-up sheets as he starts a punishing rhythm, each thrust wringing another broken sound from my lips.

The bed creaks beneath us, a sharp, rhythmic protest with every snap of his hips. The sound is obscene, loud enough to disturb the peace outside.

I can’t worry too much, not when my thoughts dissolve into static each time he slams back in.

Moaning his name, my vocabulary grows limited as I forget how to speak. Releasing the sheets, I reach for him and drag his body down against mine. His thrusts morph into grinding our hips together, and I can feel it. The approach of another orgasm.

This one isn’t like the ones I experience through masturbation. I can feel the pleasure digging deep into my stomach, reaching a depth unimaginable.

Chest flush against mine, his uneven breathing brushes my ear, followed by the throaty moans that leave his lips.

His voice is rough in my ear, every ragged sound sending sparks down my spine. The slap of skin on skin is relentless, each one punctuated by my own breathless cries, the wet, filthy sound of him moving inside me.

It’s an experience I could never have imagined. One I wouldn’t give up for the world. One I’m going to grow addicted to.

When his rhythm finally fractures, when his groan shudders through me, I swear I can feel the sound vibrating against my ribs like thunder. My body stretches to take him deeper, and I lift my hips to do just that.

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