Page 32 of Mountain Man in my Stockings
"Bedroom," she gasped between kisses.
I followed her down the short hallway, shedding clothes along the way. My shirt. Her dress—which she stepped out of promptly after I undid the zipper, leaving her in nothing buta sheer lace bra, matching panties, and those stocking-covered legs.
"Jesus," I breathed, stopping to look at her.
"What?" she asked, suddenly shy.
"You're so damn beautiful." I traced the edge of her bra, down to where the tights met her thighs. "And I've been fantasizing about these since you walked in."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yeah." I hooked my fingers in the top of one. "Mind if I unwrap my Christmas present?"
She bit her lip, eyes dark with want. "Please."
I took my time rolling them down, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Her breath hitched when I reached her inner thigh, and by the time I had those stockings off, she was trembling.
"Deacon," she said, voice shaky. "I need you."
"I know, baby." I stood and shed the rest of my clothes, then pulled her down to the bed with me. "I've got you."
This time was different from the first night. Slower. More deliberate. I wanted to savor every moment, memorize every sound she made, every place that made her gasp my name.
I kissed my way down her body, removing her bra and panties and tossing them aside. When I settled between her thighs, she threaded her fingers through my hair.
"I want to taste you," I said. "Want to make you come on my tongue."
"God, yes."
I took my time, building her slowly with my mouth and fingers until she was writhing beneath me. When she came apart, crying my name, I felt it in my chest—this overwhelming rightness, like I'd finally found my way home.
"Inside me," she panted. "I need you inside me now."
I moved up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on my tongue, and slid into her in one smooth thrust. We both groaned.
"You feel so good," she breathed, her legs wrapping around my waist. "So perfect."
I moved slowly, watching her face in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her eyes stayed open, locked on mine, and the intimacy made my chest tight.
"I'm falling for you," I said, the words coming without thought. "So damn hard."
"Me too." She pulled me down for a kiss, deep and sweet. "This terrifies me."
"Me too."
"But it's honest."
"Yeah." I thrust deeper, and she moaned. "It's honest."
We moved together, building slowly, savoring every moment. I changed angles, hit that spot that made her gasp, and her nails dug into my back.
"Right there," she panted. "Don't stop."
"Not stopping." I reached between us, finding her clit and rubbing circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it."
She shattered beneath me, her body clenching around me in waves, my name on her lips. The sensation dragged me over with her, and I buried my face in her neck as I came, both of us trembling.
After, we lay tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing patterns on her bare shoulder.
