Page 24 of Wrong Number, Right Mountain Man
“Jesus,” he breathes. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“I contain multitudes.” I nip his earlobe. “Now, are you going to deliver, or do I need to take matters into my own hands?”
In answer, he slides one thick finger inside me, his thumb finding the bundle of nerves above. The dual sensation makes my back bow off the bed.
“Like this?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
“God, yes.” My hands clutch at his shoulders as he adds a second finger, stretching me deliciously. “Don’t stop.”
“Not planning on it.” His mouth finds my breast again as his fingers work their magic, building a pressure that coils tighter with each stroke. “Want to feel you come apart.”
His words push me closer to the edge. The intensity builds until I’m trembling, hovering on the precipice of something monumental. When his teeth graze my nipple at the same moment his fingers curl inside me, I shatter.
Waves of pleasure crash through me, my body clenching around his fingers as his name falls from my lips like a prayer. He works me through it, gentling his touch as I come down, trembling and breathless.
“That,” I pant when speech returns, “was worth waiting for.”
His smile is pure male satisfaction. “We’re just getting started.”
While I’m still floating in the afterglow, he strips off my borrowed sweatpants, leaving me bare beneath his gaze. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but all I feel is desired as his eyes drink me in.
“My turn,” I announce, reaching for his belt again. This time he doesn’t stop me.
Together we work his jeans down his hips. When they join the growing pile of clothes on the floor, I’m treated to the sight of him in nothing but black boxer briefs that do little to hide his arousal.
“Well, hello there,” I quip, tracing the impressive outline through the fabric.
He laughs, the sound strained as my fingers explore. “Are you talking to me or...?”
“Definitely not you.” I hook my fingers in the waistband of his underwear. “I’m getting to know my new roommate.”
His laughter transforms into a groan as I free him from the confines of his boxers. He’s thick and hard, and the sight of him makes my mouth water.
“Like what you see?” he echoes my earlier question, vulnerability lurking beneath his confident exterior.
In answer, I wrap my hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip. His hips buck involuntarily, and the power I feel in that moment is intoxicating.
“Very much,” I purr, relishing the way his eyes darken as I continue my exploration. “Though I have some questions about this, too.”
“Such as?” His voice is strained, his control hanging by a thread.
I lean forward until my lips brush his ear. “How it’s going to feel inside me.”
His control snaps. With a growl, he pushes me back against the pillows, settling between my thighs. The feel of him pressed against my center, nothing but heat and hardness, makes me whimper with anticipation.
“Protection,” he murmurs, reaching toward the nightstand.
“I’m covered,” I assure him, wrapping my legs around his waist to keep him close. “IUD. And I’m clean.”
“Me too.” His eyes search mine. “You’re sure about this?”
In answer, I lift my hips, sliding against him in invitation. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He drops to my mouth and steals my breath with a kiss as he positions himself at my entrance. When he pushes inside, the stretch and fullness draw a moan from deep in my chest.
“Fuck, Sunny.” His voice is reverent against my neck. “You feel amazing.”
He stills once he’s fully seated, giving me time to adjust to his size. The consideration makes my heart swell even as my body burns with need. I roll my hips experimentally, and the friction draws groans from us both.
