Page 29 of Restored By the Mountain Man
But my body has other ideas.
I glance toward the window again. Francisco and Ezra are walking away from the RV now, their backs to me as they head toward the grain silos. They'll be gone for at least thirty minutes, probably longer if they're touring the facilities.
The temptation is too strong to resist.
I slide back down in the bed, letting my eyes drift closed as I replay my dream. This time, I let my hands follow the path Ezra's took in my fantasy. I trail my fingers down my neck, imagining the scratch of his beard against my sensitive skin.
My nipples are already hard beneath the thin fabric of my tank top. I brush my thumbs over them through the material, biting my lip at the sensation. In my mind, it's Ezra's hands touching me, his mouth replacing my fingers.
"God, you're responsive," I imagine him saying, his voice rough with desire. "I love watching you come apart for me."
I slip one hand under my tank top, palming my breast while my other hand traces lower. My skin is electric, every nerve ending awakened by the fantasy playing in my head.
I imagine Ezra's lips trailing down my body, kissing and nipping at my skin until he reaches the waistband of my pajama pants. In my fantasy, he looks up at me with those intense gray-green eyes, seeking permission.
"Please," I whisper aloud, lost in the vision.
My hand slides beneath my pajama pants, finding myself already wet from the dream and the building arousal. I'm hypersensitive, my clit swollen and aching for attention.
I imagine it's Ezra's fingers touching me, exploring me with the same careful precision he brings to everything else. He'd take his time, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me arch against his touch.
"So wet for me," I imagine him murmuring against my inner thigh. "Tell me how this feels."
I circle my clit slowly, building the tension just like he would. Patient, methodical, driving me slowly insane with need. My other hand continues to tease my nipples, pinching and rolling them between my fingers.
The fantasy shifts and now I'm imagining Ezra's mouth on me. His tongue replacing his fingers, licking and sucking until I'm writhing beneath him. I increase the pressure on my clit, my hips rocking against my hand.
"Ezra," I breathe, his name falling from my lips in a moan.
In my mind, he's pushing two fingers inside me while his tongue works my clit. I slide my own fingers inside, curling them to hit that sweet spot that makes my back arch off the bed.
The dual sensation of my fingers inside me and my thumb circling my clit builds the pressure rapidly. I imagine Ezra's eyes watching me, drinking in every expression of pleasure that crosses my face.
"Come for me," I imagine him commanding, his voice dark and possessive. "Let me hear how good I make you feel."
My orgasm builds like a wave, starting deep in my core and spreading outward. My thighs clamp around my hand as I work myself higher, chasing the release that's just out of reach.
"Please," I gasp, my fantasy Ezra adding a third finger, stretching me as his tongue flicks against my clit.
The pressure finally breaks and I come with a muffled cry, my hand pressed over my mouth to keep from being too loud. Waves of pleasure crash over me, my body convulsing as I imagine Ezra working me through every pulse of my orgasm.
I lie there panting, my body slack with satisfaction and my mind hazy. The scent of my arousal mingles with the faint smell of Ezra's cologne that still clings to the bedding.
That's when I hear voices outside getting closer.
Panic shoots through me as I realize Ezra and Francisco are returning. I quickly pull my hands free and try to compose myself, my heart hammering for entirely different reasons now.
I hear the RV door open just as I manage to arrange myself to look like I've just woken up naturally. The bedsheets give me some cover as I pretend to stretch sleepily.
"Morning," Ezra's voice comes from the main area, carefully neutral.
"Morning," I call back, hoping my voice doesn't betray what I've just been doing. "How did the meeting go?"
There's a pause and I wonder if he can smell the evidence of my private moment. Heat floods my cheeks at the thought.
"Very well. Francisco and I have reached an agreement." His voice is closer now, like he's approaching the bedroom doorway. "The partnership is official."
"That's wonderful!" I inject genuine enthusiasm into my voice, pushing aside my embarrassment. This is huge for thedistillery, exactly the kind of expansion opportunity that could transform their business.
