Page 20 of The Mountain Man's Second Chance Bride
"Yours," I agree, turning my face to press a kiss against his palm. "Always have been. Always will be."
The careful restraint he's maintained all day giving way to a hunger that steals my breath. His hand slides to the back of my neck, drawing me closer as his mouth claims mine in a kiss that's somehow both tender and demanding.
I melt against him, arms winding around his neck as his tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entrance I eagerly grant. The familiar taste of him floods my senses. His other hand splays across my lower back, pressing me more firmly against him until I can feel the hard evidence of his desire against my stomach.
"Six days," I murmur against his mouth when we break for air. "You made me wait too long."
"Worth it," he says, his hand finding the row of small buttons that run down the back of my dress. "Wouldn't you say?"
"I'll let you know," I reply with feigned indifference that makes him chuckle.
His fingers work the tiny buttons with unexpected dexterity, slowly exposing the bare skin of my back to the cool air.Each newly revealed inch he touches with reverent care, tracing patterns that make me shiver with anticipation.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he confesses, pressing a kiss to my newly exposed shoulder. "How you'd look in this dress. How you'd look out of it."
With the last button undone, the dress loosens around me. Josiah steps back just enough to ease it from my shoulders, letting the ivory lace pool at my feet. I stand before him in nothing but a white strapless bra and matching panties, my skin prickling into goosebumps in the cool cabin air.
His sharp intake of breath is immensely satisfying. His eyes darken as they roam over me, taking in every inch with an intensity that makes me feel both exposed and powerful.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, the single word heavy with reverence. "So goddamn beautiful."
I reach for him, needing to touch, to feel, but he catches my wrists gently. "Not yet," he says, bringing my hands to his lips to press a kiss to each palm. "I've been thinking about this too long to rush it."
Before I can protest, he sweeps me into his arms again and carries me toward the bedroom. He deposits me gently on the bed, taking a moment to drink in the sight of me against the dark quilt.
I watch, entranced, as he reveals himself inch by inch—broad shoulders, muscled chest lightly dusted with dark hair that narrows to a trail disappearing into his waistband. The sight of him never fails to stir something primal in me, a visceral reaction to his raw masculinity.
When he's down to just his boxer briefs with his cock straining hard, he joins me on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress as he stretches out beside me. One large hand cups my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone with surprising tenderness.
"Worth the wait?" he asks, a hint of genuine vulnerability beneath the teasing.
"Every second," I assure him, leaning in to press my lips to his. "Every day. Every year."
Something in my answer breaks through his careful control. His kiss turns hungry, demanding, as his hands begin a thorough exploration of my body.
"Perfect," he murmurs, eyes darkening as he cups one breast, thumb circling the already hardened peak. "Every inch of you."
I arch into his touch, skin hypersensitive after days of anticipation. When his mouth replaces his hand, drawing my nipple between his lips, a gasp escapes me, fingers tangling in his hair to hold him closer.
He takes his time, lavishing attention on each breast until I'm squirming beneath him, desperate for more. Only then does his mouth begin a leisurely journey downward, trailing kisses across my stomach, his beard creating exquisite friction against my sensitive skin.
"Josiah," I breathe, my hands gripping the sheets as he moves lower still.
His eyes meet mine as he settles between my thighs, the intensity in his gaze sending another wave of heat through me. "I've been dreaming about tasting you as my wife," he murmurs, his breath warm against my inner thigh. "Claiming you completely."
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me, his tongue tracing a long, slow path through my folds. A cry escapes me at the sensation, my hips rising instinctively to meet him. His large hands grip my thighs, holding me open as he explores with deliberate thoroughness.
"You taste like heaven," he groans against me, the vibration adding another layer to the pleasure building inside me. "Like something worth waiting for."
His tongue circles my clit before dipping lower to tease my entrance. I gasp his name, one hand reaching down to tangle in his hair, urging him closer. He responds by sliding a finger inside me while his mouth focuses on my throbbing clit.
"Please," I manage, the word breaking on a moan as he adds a second finger, curling them to hit that perfect spot inside me. "Josiah, I—"
"Let go," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "Let me taste you, feel you come apart on my tongue."
The combination of his words, his fingers working inside me, and the relentless attention of his mouth sends me hurtling over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, my body arching off the bed as his name falls from my lips in a desperate cry.
He doesn't stop, drawing out my climax until I'm trembling and oversensitive, gently guiding me through the aftershocks before finally pulling away. When he raises his head, his beard glistens with evidence of my pleasure, his eyes dark with a hunger that makes my heart race despite my recent release.
