Page 34 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
He grins, that sexy dimple making an appearance, and hooks his thumbs under the elastic. In one smooth motion, he strips them off, tossing them aside.
My breath catches in my throat. He's magnificent—all hard planes and angles, his cock standing proud from a tangle of dark hair. He's thick and long, and the thought of him inside me makes me squirm.
I reach out, wrapping my fingers around his length. He hisses, his eyes closing briefly at my touch. I push him gently to lay back on the blanket.
"I've been thinking about this all day," I say.
His eyes widen slightly, and a low growl escapes him as I lower my head, taking him into my mouth. The taste of him is clean—lake water and manliness—and I swirl my tongue around the head, enjoying the way his thighs tense beneath my hands.
I take him deeper, relaxing my throat, using my hand to stroke what I can't fit in my mouth. His fingers tangle in my hair, not pushing, just holding on like he needs something to anchor him.
"Jesus, Skye," he groans, his voice strained. "Your mouth is fucking perfect."
His words send a thrill through me. Everything with Griff is different. The sounds he makes, the way his body responds to my touch, the way he watches me—it all combines to make me feel powerful, desirable, so incredibly wanted.
I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder, my hand working in rhythm with my mouth. His breathing grows ragged, his hips starting to move slightly, meeting my strokes.
"Wait," he gasps suddenly, gently pulling me off him. "I want to be inside you."
He reaches for his wallet, pulling a condom from it. I watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth, rolling it on quickly. Then he's pulling me into his lap, my thighs straddling his.
"Like this," he murmurs, hands guiding my hips.
I lower myself onto him slowly, gasping as he fills me completely. His hands grip my waist, steadying me as I adjust to his size. When he's deep inside me, we both pause, breathing each other's air.
"You feel incredible," he whispers against my lips.
I begin to move, lifting myself up and then sinking back down, establishing a rhythm that has us both groaning. His hands slide from my waist to my ass, guiding my movements, occasionally squeezing in a way that makes me gasp.
The angle is perfect, hitting all the right spots inside me. I brace my hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure builds. He watches me intently, his eyes never leaving mine, even as sweat beads on his forehead and his jaw clenches with the effort of restraint.
"Let go," he urges, one hand moving between us to find my clit. "I've got you."
His fingers circle it slowly at first and then quicker. My orgasm tears through me, so fucking intense. I cry out his name, my body clenching around his cock in rhythmic waves.
He holds me through it, murmuring encouragement, his hips still moving beneath mine. As I come down from the high, he increases his pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent. I lean down and brace myself on either side of his neck, kissing him deeply as his rhythm falters.
With a groan that seems torn from his very core, he comes, his body tensing beneath mine, his face buried in my neck. I hold him tightly, feeling the thundering of his heart against my chest.
We stay like that, neither of us willing to break the connection. Eventually, I lift my head, brushing my hair back from my face.
"Was the cold plunge worth it?" he asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
I laugh softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to that irresistible dimple. "Most definitely."
I get up and slip my clothes back on, minus the wet bra and panties. Griff does the same and we both settle back down onto the blanket and stare up at the impossibly blue sky. The sound of the waterfall creates a soothing backdrop to our slowing breaths. In this moment, I feel utterly content—no thoughts of expensive car parts or cheating boyfriends or uncertain futures. Just this man, this place, this perfect afternoon.
"We should probably head back soon," Griff says eventually, though he makes no move to get up.
"Probably," I agree, equally reluctant to end this moment.
I roll onto my side and place my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart and marveling at how comfortable this feels.
With Daniel, sex had always felt like a transaction—something to be completed efficiently before moving on to the next item on his mental agenda. This leisurely aftermath, this quiet connection, is new to me. And I find myself wanting more of it, more of him, more of everything he makes me feel.
The sun hangs low in the sky by the time we make it back to Devil's Pass. My hair has dried in wild waves from the lake water, and Griff's is sticking up in places where he ran his fingers through it after taking his helmet off. We probably look like two people who spent the afternoon having sex by a waterfall. I try to smooth down my hair as we walk through the door, but I'm pretty sure there’s not much I can do with it at this point.
Vanna is wiping down tables, Loverboy napping under a table nearby. She looks up when we enter, her eyes taking in our rumpled appearance, and a knowing smile spreads across her face.
