Page 14 of Ignited By the Mountain Man
Then she began to move.
Her hips set a slow, deep rhythm that threatened to shatter my control immediately. She braced her hands on my shoulders, her head falling back, a curtain of hair tickling my hands where they gripped her hips. And then she made a move that undid me completely. As she rode me, one of her own hands slipped between our bodies, her fingers finding her clit.
The sight of her touching herself, lost in the pleasure we were building together, was my undoing. A groan was torn from my throat as my eyes stayed locked on her breasts, bouncing with every rise and fall of her body. Each movement was a tiny, visual echo of the friction building deep within me, a hypnotic rhythm that pushed me closer and closer to the edge.
I clenched my jaw, digging my fingers into the soft wood of the loveseat, holding on by a thread. I wouldn’t come. Not yet. Not until she did.
Her breaths came in short, sharp pants. “Silas…I’m close…so close…”
Her rhythm became more frantic, her inner muscles clenching around me. I felt the exact moment she broke. A soft cry squeezed from her throat, raw and real, as her body convulsed around mine.
That was all it took. The thread snapped. My own release tore through me, a blinding, white-hot wave of pleasure that hadmy vision spotting as I spilled into her, my own groan muffled against her shoulder.
We collapsed together in a heap of trembling limbs and shared breath, a slick, satisfied tangle on the cushions. I held her tightly against me, feeling the frantic hammering of her heart slowly begin to steady against my own.
After a long while, she stirred, nuzzling her face into my neck. “We are definitely going to hell for defiling marshmallows.”
I chuckled, the sound rumbling through my chest. “Worth it.”
She sighed. “The kids are going to love the fire pit.”
“They are,” I agreed, stroking her hair. “And you’re going to write an award-winning article about marshmallows.”
She laughed softly. “Maybe. But right now…” She tilted her head up to look at me, her expression soft and full of a love that still, after all this time, humbled me. “Right now, I was just thinking how perfect this is. All of it. You, me, the kids, this house. You building amazing homes for people in this valley, me getting to write about it all from our back porch. It’s all just…perfect.”
I kissed her forehead, breathing in the scent of wood smoke and her shampoo. “It is,” I murmured, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “It’s a perfect life, Keely.”
And as we sat there, holding each other under a blanket of stars, the fire crackling low before us, I knew it was the absolute truth.
