Page 95 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
"You sure?" Griff asks, though he's already hanging up his apron.
Vanna rolls her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Now skedaddle before I change my mind."
Buck doesn't need to be told twice. He practically drags me toward the door, his large hand engulfing mine. Ford and Griff follow close behind, and I can feel the anticipation rolling off all of them.
The short drive to Ford’s house is silent, the air thick with sexual tension. We all tumble inside.
"Drink?" Ford offers, but we all shake our heads.
"Later," Griff says, his voice rough.
Ford nods, then gestures toward a sliding glass door. "The deck?"
The wooden deck extends from the back of the house, overlooking a small clearing surrounded by pine trees. Strings of lights hang overhead, casting a warm glow over several comfortable lounge chairs and a small table. The night air is cool against my skin.
"It's beautiful out here," I say, stepping to the railing to look up at the stars.
"Speaking of beautiful," Buck says behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders.
I turn to face them, my three men, standing there watching me with desire on their faces. A delicious boldness overtakes me, born from the certainty that I am exactly where I want to be, with exactly who I want to be with.
Without taking my eyes off them, I reach for the hem of my t-shirt and pull it over my head. Their collective intake of breath is audible in the quiet night. I unhook my bra next, letting it fall to the deck. My shorts and underwear follow, until I'm standing before them completely bare, the night air raising goosebumps across my skin.
I move to one of the lounge chairs and lie back, my heart racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "Who's first?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.
They exchange glances, some silent communication passing between them.
"Me," Ford says, already unbuttoning his shirt. The others step back, giving him space but staying close enough to watch.
“First things first though. We’re all going to fuck you and bring you this close to getting off,” he indicates with his fingers how close. “But we’re not going to let you come until the end. How’s that sound?”
I nod my head in understanding, unable to speak at the thought of it.
He undresses quickly, his body lean and strong in the soft glow of the string lights. He leans in and gives me a long kiss and he tastes so good I can barely contain myself.
When he kneels between my legs, his hands are gentle on my thighs, spreading them wider. "I've missed you," he whispers, before lowering his mouth to taste me.
I arch against him, a gasp escaping my lips. His tongue is slow and deliberate, finding all the places that make me squirm. From the corner of my eye, I see Buck and Griff watching us intently as they touch themselves over their jeans.
Ford’s tongue is amazing, flicking and lapping at my clit. I’m sprawled out on the lounge chair, legs spread wide, and he’s buried between my thighs like he’s starving for me. The heat of his breath against my wet, swollen pussy makes me shiver, and I can’t stop my hips from bucking and grinding against his mouth. He’s relentless, humming against me, sending vibrations through my clit that make my toes curl and my breath hitch.
“Fuck, Ford—” I gasp, my voice trembling, raw with need. He growls in response, doubling down on his assault. His tongue circles my clit slowly, like he’s savoring every second, and then he flicks it hard, fast, making me cry out. My fingers tangle in his hair, and I’m whimpering, begging for more.
Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he slides a finger inside me. It’s thick and unyielding, stretching me perfectly, and he curls it, finding that sweet spot that makes me forget my own name. He adds a second finger immediately, and I’m so wet, so open for him. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of mewith a rhythm that’s pure fucking torture, hitting every nerve, every sensitive spot, until I’m thrashing beneath him, my pussy clenching around his fingers.
“Fuck—” I choke out, my voice breaking, my body trembling on the edge of an orgasm that feels like it’s going to wreck me. My clit is throbbing, my pussy is spasming, and Ford’s tongue is relentless, flicking, sucking, driving me wild. I’m so close, so damn close?—
And then he stops.
He pulls away, leaving me gasping, my body throbbing with unfulfilled need.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “I want to hear you beg.”
When Ford enters me, the fullness is exquisite. He moves slowly at first, his eyes never leaving mine, each thrust deliberate and deep. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him closer, deeper. The deck is quiet except for our breathing, the occasional creak of the lounge chair, and the soft sounds of pleasure I can't hold back.
As Ford's rhythm quickens, Buck moves closer, his hand in my hair, turning my face toward him. "You're so beautiful like this," he says, his voice thick with desire.
Ford tenses above me, his release coming with a groan against my neck. He stays there for a moment, his weight a comforting pressure, before sliding away with a kiss to my forehead.
