Page 13 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Challenge
She set down her glass and gave me that look—the one that had always driven me wild. The one that said she knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
“Out here?” I asked, voice already thick with anticipation.
She crawled across the blanket and straddled my lap, settling over me like she belonged there. “Unless you’ve got another overlook in mind,” she murmured, grinding down against the bulge in my hiking pants.
Fuck.
I grabbed her hips, pulling her tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Promise?” she whispered, brushing her lips over mine.
Her tongue flicked out to tease, then pulled back. I chased her mouth, kissing her hard, deep, dirty. She moaned into it, grinding again. Her body already knew what it wanted, and it had no patience left.
I pulled her tank top over her head, baring her soft, sun-kissed skin to the mountain breeze. Her nipples were already pebbled, tight with arousal, and I took one into my mouth as she arched against me. She rocked harder now, her breath coming in soft, shallow pants.
“Take off your shorts,” I said, my voice rough with need. “Let me see you.”
She stood, wiggled out of them slowly, teasing, until she was left in nothing but a pair of pale pink panties stretched damp between her legs. I slid those down her thighs and she stepped out of them.
I moved to my knees, then kissed down her belly and lower. She gasped when my tongue met her, right there, standing at the edge of the blanket, the mountain air wrapping around us while I made her moan.
I dragged it out, licking and sucking until her legs shook. Until she begged for more.
“Lie down,” I told her.
She lowered herself onto the blanket, eyes locked on mine as I stripped off my shirt, then unzipped my pants and shoved them down along with my briefs. My cock sprang free, already throbbing with need.
She reached for it, stroking it once, then twice, with a look that was half reverence, half lust. “I need you.”
I moved over her, sliding between her thighs. Her legs parted, welcoming me in, and when I thrust into her, she cried out, loud and free and unashamed. The heat of her surrounded me like a velvet glove. Tight. Wet. Perfect.
I didn’t move at first. I just held there, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to hers. “God, I love you,” I whispered.
“Show me,” she said.
So I did.
I rocked into her slow and deep, watching her face as every thrust pushed her closer to the edge. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, her nails digging in. I shifted my angle, grinding into her with each stroke, and her head fell back on a moan.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
I wasn’t stopping for anything. I picked up the pace, thrusting harder now, hips slapping against her as we climbed together. Her body clamped down around me, her cries getting louder, her back arching off the blanket.
“I’m going to…oh…Collin…”
She shattered around me, clenching tight, her body wracked with tremors as the orgasm tore through her. That was all it took. With a groan ripped straight from my chest, I came, pumping hard into her, emptying myself with a force that left me shaking.
We lay there for a while, tangled together on the blanket, the wind teasing sweat-damp strands of her hair. Eventually, I rolled to my side, pulling her into me. She curled up, head on my chest, one leg slung over mine.
“Damn,” she whispered.
I laughed. “Yeah. Damn.”
The sun was dipping lower now, casting golden light across the valley below. The overlook stretched out in front of us like something out of a painting—layers of trees and sky and endless possibility.
She tilted her head back to look at me. “Nine years, two kids, a million memories, and that still felt like the first time.”
I kissed her forehead. “Better than the first time.”
