Page 15 of Falling for the Mountain Man
I need to go deeper. I want tonight’s evidence to reach the core of her body.
Zaria groans, a sound of pure frustration, as I pull out. Left confused and empty, her body rolls with ease as I push her onto her side. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I capture her ankle. My thumb presses into the delicate arch of her foot, and I watch, mesmerized, as her toes curl.
Her brow is furrowed in beautiful confusion as I use her leg to spread her open, dragging her ankle up to my shoulder. I hold her there, bent and exposed, a perfect offering. It takes no effort to slide back into her, this new angle allowing me to delve into a devastating, untouched depth.
A sharp, choked cry is ripped from her throat. Her eyes fly wide, and her hand claps over her mouth, fingers pressing hard against her lips in a desperate attempt to silence herself.
Her body is a traitor, spilling secrets with no effort, with the way her cries slip through the cracks. The rhythmic protest of the bed begins beneath us, a steady creaking that punctuates every one of my deep, measured thrusts.
Her heavy breathing is a ragged counterpoint to mine, hot puffs of air against her own knuckles. With every inward stroke, a broken whimper escapes her failed prison of fingers, each one a little louder, a little more desperate than the last. She is trying to hold onto the last shred of her composure, but I won’t allow it.
I lean over her, not breaking my rhythm, and gently pull her hand away from her mouth, pinning it to the pillow beside herhead. “Let me hear you,” I growl, my own breath hot in her ear. “I want every part of you to remember this.”
Freed, her cries pour out—a beautiful, agonized melody of pleasure that fills the room, harmonizing with the symphony of our skin, our ragged breaths, and the relentless, creaking bed. I drive into her, again and again, each thrust a promise, each gasp from her lips a confession.
The pressure is coiling tight in my gut, a spring wound to its breaking point. Every ragged, shared breath, every one of her shattered cries, every creak of the old bed—it all funnels into that single, straining point of sensation.
I can feel her tightening around me, her body fluttering in frantic, helpless waves, and I know she’s right there with me, teetering on the edge.
I bury my face in the curve of her neck, my voice a raw, guttural command against her skin. “Now, Zaria. Let me feel you.”
I don’t have to tell her twice.
Her climax hits her like a crashing wave. A sharp, broken scream tears from her throat, utterly unrestrained, as her entire body arches and convulses around me. That final, clenching pull is all it takes.
The spring snaps.
My world whites out. A deep, primal groan is ripped from my chest as I drive into her one last, final time, holding myself there, buried to the hilt. My release is a torrent, a scalding flood that pours into her, and I feel every pulse, every shockwave, as I spill myself deep inside. It’s a claiming, a branding, and for a few endless seconds, I am nothing but pure, shuddering sensation.
I collapse over her, my body spent and heavy, our sweat-slicked skin sealing us together. The only sounds left are the frantic hammering of our hearts against each other’s ribs and the ragged, gasping breaths we struggle to draw into our burninglungs. I stay inside her, not moving, not wanting to break the connection, letting the last few aftershocks tremble through us both until we are still.
Once I’m pulling out, my hands are massaging her hips while my apologies of being rough are muffled against her skin.
Zaria groans with every movement of her limbs, but she reassures me that she enjoyed every second. Slowly, she curls against my chest, tickling my skin with each loose strand of hair.
“Tomorrow is going to be…rough…” She sighs and looks up at me. “You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?”
It takes me too long to figure out what outlandish question she’s asking me. Just the thought of her thinking I could makes me frown. Bringing her mouth to mine, she sighs against my lips.
“I’ve loved you for two years. Suffered every day you were away. You think now that I’ve finally gotten what I’ve always wanted, I’m going to be satisfied suddenly?” My next chuckle comes out dry. “No, I’m not going to change my mind. I’m going to fight every impulsive thought that comes my way not to come visit you while you’re gone.”
A wet, half-amused snort escapes her, and she hides her face, tucking her nose into the hollow of my throat. Her breath is a warm, shaky ghost on my skin. “Two years was a long time to want. Two more to wait feels…”
My hand finds its way into her hair, stroking through the silken strands. I press a firm, lingering kiss to the crown of her head, breathing her in. “I’ll wait a lifetime if that’s what it takes,” I whisper into her scent. “If it means I get to call you mine at the end of it.”
I can’t see it, but I feel it—the slow, beautiful curve of her smile against my pulse point. It’s a silent promise, a reflected truth.
I mean every single word. I will happily, desperately, do whatever it takes to prove it to her.
8
Zaria
Waking up, it’s the burly arm wrapped securely around my waist that makes all of this feel real. Then I shift, and the soreness of my body makes it set in stone.
Ryder wants me just as much as I want him.
Oh boy. Talk about a dream come true.
