Page 17 of Snug with the Mountain Man
She reaches past me for the sugar jar, her chest brushing my arm. “You’re imagining things.”
I grab her wrist before she can pull away. “Maisie.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Yes?”
“Stop,” I rasp.
“Make me,” she whispers.
And just like that, I’m done. I pull her closer, my hand sliding under the blanket to her bare back. She gasps softly, but doesn’t move away.
“You keep pushing,” I growl, lowering my head to her neck. “You really want to know what happens?”
“Yes.”
I kiss her throat. Just a taste. She tilts her head back, giving me more. My tongue traces her skin. Her hands slide up my chest, nails grazing lightly.
“Ford, you’re coffee’s ready,” she murmurs, breath hitching.
“Don’t care.”
I push the blanket off her shoulders, exposing her completely. Her nipples pebble under my gaze, and I swear softly, dragging my thumb over one while I kiss the other. She trembles, grabbing the counter edge behind her.
I press her back against the counter, my mouth on hers again, filthy, claiming. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me deeper.
“You’re mine,” I mutter against her lips.
“Then take me,” she whispers.
I lift her onto the counter, step between her thighs, and push inside her with a groan. She wraps her legs around me, nails digging into my shoulders.
This isn’t frantic. It’s slow at first, a steady grind that has her gasping and rolling her hips against mine. I kiss her neck, her shoulder, her mouth, whispering all the things I’ve been holdingback: how good she feels, how long I’ve wanted this, how she’s been driving me crazy since she came back.
She moans and tips her head back. “Harder,” she breathes.
I obey. My hands grip her hips, guiding her, thrusting faster, deeper, until she’s clinging to me, her breath coming in sharp cries.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I growl. “You’re mine, Maisie. Say it.”
“Yours,” she gasps, arching into me. “Always yours.”
She comes hard, clenching around me, her cry muffled against my shoulder. I follow with a low groan, holding her tight as we fall apart together.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Just the sound of rain, the fire popping softly in the stove, our ragged breathing.
She smiles up at me, cheeks flushed. “Now I really want coffee.”
I chuckle, still inside her. “Smartass.”
She strokes my jaw with her thumb. “You’re different when you’re not pretending to dislike me.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, kissing her again, softer this time. “I am.”
I finally ease out of her, setting her gently back on her feet. “Go start the shower,” I tell her. “I’ll pour the coffee.”
She smirks over her shoulder as she walks away, naked, unbothered. “Only if you join me.”
I groan, already hardening again.
