Page 22 of Wrecked By the Mountain Man
His fingers pump faster inside me, curling in that perfect way, while his tongue dances over my clit.
I moan around his cock, the vibrations making him buck until I can barely breathe. I pull my mouth off him with a wet pop, my lips swollen.
I start stroking him with my hand, long, smooth pulls from root to tip, twisting my wrist on the upstroke, mimicking what my mouth just did. He’s leaking so much now, slicking my palm, making the glide effortless.
"Fuck, yes," he groans into my core, his tongue redoubling its efforts. "Just like that, sunshine. Stroke my cock like that."
His filthy words send another jolt through me and I'm close. So close.
His fingers move inside me, his tongue flicks my clit, and I feel myself unraveling. A sharp, keening cry escapes me as the orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of blinding ecstasy.
I clench hard around his fingers, my back arching off the bed, my vision whiting out.
He doesn't stop. He rides me through it, his tongue gentling but still relentless, drawing out every last shuddering pulse.
Only when my body finally sags, boneless and trembling, does he lift his head.
"You're fucking sexy when you come," he growls, smirking with satisfaction.
He pulls his fingers slowly from my still-quivering core, bringing them to his mouth. His eyes lock with mine as he deliberately sucks my wetness from them.
The sight is so primal, so possessive, heat floods me again.
"Enough teasing," he growls, his voice thick with lust.
He grabs my hips, pulling me roughly towards him until my ass is perched right on the edge of the mattress again.
He positions the thick head of his cock against my slick entrance. My body, still humming from the orgasm, feelsimpossibly sensitive, but I crave him. I crave this man more than I've ever cravedanything.
"Look at me," he commands.
I drag my eyes open and his face is set, a single muscle ticking in his jaw. There’s a vulnerability warring with the raw hunger in his blue eyes. "You need to tell me you want this."
"Yes," I gasp, reaching up to touch his stubbled cheek. "Yes, Edward. Please."
"Are you sure—"
"YES! Edward, please… Fuck me!"
With another chuckle, he shakes his head and pushes forward.
My eyes widen. Oh, yes. That's right. He’shuge.
And the stretch isintense.
I bite my lip, breathing through it, my inner muscles fluttering wildly around the invading thickness.
"Fuck, Penny," he groans, his head dropping forward, his shoulders taut with strain. "You’re so tight."
"That's because you're so big!"
"So perfect for me, baby."
He bottoms out, his hips flush against mine. He pauses, buried to the hilt, letting me adjust. The feeling of being so completely filled, stretched, and possessed is indescribable.
I can feel every ridge, every vein, the undeniable presence of him inside me. It borders on pain, but it’s the sweetest kind. The kind that makes you crave more.
He starts to move and each withdrawal is an aching loss, each push back in a breathtaking claim. He sets a rhythm that’s deep and purposeful, his hips rolling against mine.
