Page 24 of Christmas With My Mountain Man Landlord
"My turn," she declares, reaching for my belt.
I let her undress me, watching her expressions as each new part of me is revealed. When she pulls my jeans and underwear down together, her sharp intake of breath as my erection springs free is gratifying to my male pride.
"Can I touch you?" she asks, eyes wide behind her glasses.
"Please."
Her fingers wrap around me tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as she gauges my reactions. I'm so hard italmost hurts, months of celibacy combined with the intensity of my attraction to her pushing me dangerously close to the edge already.
"Show me what you like," she requests, her expression earnest.
I place my hand over hers, guiding her in the rhythm and pressure I prefer. She's a quick study, adapting immediately to what makes my breath catch, what draws groans from deep in my chest.
"If you keep that up," I warn her, "this will be over before we've properly begun."
She looks entirely too pleased with herself, but releases me, moving up to kiss me again. "How do you want me?"
The question, so direct and trusting, nearly undoes me. "I want to see your face," I tell her. "Watch your eyes as I make you feel good."
Her smile is breathtaking as she stretches out on the bed, making room for me between her thighs. I reach into the bedside drawer for a condom, grateful I'd thought to check the expiration date a few nights ago in a moment of optimistic preparation.
"Let me," she offers, taking the foil packet.
Watching her roll the protection onto me with careful hands is erotic in a way I hadn't anticipated. When she finishes, she looks up at me with such open desire that any remaining insecurity evaporates.
I position myself at her entrance, eyes locked on hers. "Ready for this?"
"More than ready," she assures me, her hands finding my shoulders.
I push in slowly, giving her body time to adjust to my size. The tight heat of her nearly blinds me with pleasure, but I force myself to go slowly, watching for any sign of discomfort. There is none, just wonder and desire as she takes me in fully.
"You feel incredible," I tell her, voice strained with the effort of remaining still.
"So do you." She shifts her hips experimentally, drawing a groan from both of us.
I begin with slow, measured strokes, establishing a rhythm that has her sighing with pleasure. Her hands roam my back, learning the terrain of muscle and bone, eventually settling on my ass to urge me deeper.
"Don’t stop," she requests, legs wrapping around my waist to change the angle. "Harder."
I comply, increasing the pace and force of my thrusts. Her responsiveness is intoxicating, every sound, every expression feeding my desire to please her. When I slip a hand between us to circle her clit, her eyes widen.
"Oh!" she gasps. "Yes, right there."
I can feel her building toward another climax, her inner muscles beginning to flutter around me. My own control is slipping, the combination of her tight heat and obvious pleasure pushing me toward the edge.
"Come for me again," I urge her, circling her clit more firmly. "Let me feel you."
Her release seems to take her by surprise, her body going rigid beneath me as she cries out my name. The sight of her pleasure, the rhythmic clenching of her body around mine, triggers my own climax. I bury my face in her neck as I come, her name a rough groan against her skin.
For several long moments, we remain joined, breathing heavily, her arms wrapped around me as if afraid I might disappear. When I finally move to dispose of the condom, she makes a small sound of protest that soothes something long wounded in my soul.
I return to bed quickly, gathering her against me. She comes willingly, curling into my side as if she's always belonged there.Her glasses are crooked, her hair a wild tangle around her flushed face. She's never been more beautiful.
"I needed..." she begins, then stops, apparently unable to find adequate words.
"Yeah," I agree, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I did too."
We lay in comfortable silence for a while, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. I can almost see the thoughts churning behind her eyes, but I give her time to organize them.
