Page 13 of Scarred Mountain Man
“It’s your turn.”
But even as I said the words, I was doing exactly as he’d commanded. I climbed on top of him, swinging my right leg over until I was straddling him.
The rock dug into my knees, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the man looking at me like he wanted me. Like he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted me right now.
He sat up, sliding his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me toward him. Our mouths met hungrily, tongues tangling, as the passion that had been building all day came to a head.
As we kissed, his other hand moved up my thighs, over my hips, and toward my waist. There was something almost reverent about his touch. Like he was admiring a priceless work of art. Maybe a statue in a museum.
I felt his hands slide under the waistband of my underwear and knew I’d messed up. I should have taken these off before I climbed on top of him. He’d figure out what to do, though. Maybe he’d even rip them off me.
When he bunched the fabric in his fist, I was sure he was going to do exactly that. Instead, he slid them downward, to my thighs. His underwear still sat at his thighs, so that made sense.
He didn’t let up on his kiss whatsoever, but as he kissed me, he moved his hand between my thighs, sliding a finger inside me. After he’d tested my wetness, he moved to my still-swollen bud, flicking over it quickly and much more expertly than I’d done. It was probably that very expertise that had me already heating up again.
Suddenly, he broke the kiss, and I looked down at him, my eyes heavy-lidded, my lips no doubt swollen from our kisses. I already missed having his mouth on mine, but when his gaze lowered to my chest, I knew exactly what he planned on doing.
He ducked his head and took my right nipple in his mouth, running his tongue around it, then sliding around my areola. Even though he wasn’t inside me, my hips were gyrating on their own. I didn’t care. I’d shoved aside every bit of self-consciousness where he was concerned.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered. “That feels so good.”
He probably wondered which part of it I didn’t want him to stop. If he asked, the answer to that would be “any of it.” Keep touching me, keep licking my nipples…just keep doing it all.
“Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes.”
The words seemed to be coming from someone else. I knew that I was the one speaking them, but I wasn’t really in control of my voice. Or anything else, for that matter.
I gripped his shoulders as the second orgasm of my life raced through me, taking over my body and feeding my new addiction. An addiction to Ryder.
“Oh God,” I said one last time.
As the waves began subsiding, I lowered my head, closing my eyes and letting my hair drop around my face. He reached up and brushed some strands over my shoulder, drawing my attention back to him.
“I have to take these off,” I said, awkwardly sliding my leg out of one side of the underwear.
I started to deal with the other, then decided they could stay looped around my thigh. It wouldn’t matter. All that mattered was getting him inside me as soon as possible.
“Don’t be too ambitious,” he said. “It’s probably going to hurt.”
“It’s definitely going to hurt. But I’m prepared. I’ll someday go through childbirth. This will be easy compared to that, right?”
I was smiling as I said it, but his expression wiped the smile right off my face. Something I couldn’t quite identify flashed in his eyes. Whatever it was, it didn’t last long.
He suddenly gave a nod, grabbing his erection and positioning it at my entrance. “You’re in control,” he said. “Go as slowly as you need to.”
Everything else was forgotten as I focused all my efforts on getting him inside me. It wasn’t easy. I was tight, and he was huge. I figured it would only get worse, but this was painful enough.
We’d barely started when I felt myself approaching that feeling I’d had minutes ago. I gritted my teeth and kept moving, doing my best to ignore the sharp pain shooting through me. Just when I was thinking there was no way this would ever get easier, I felt his finger move to my clit.
My eyes popped open, and I looked down at him. Heat still filled his stare, but it was tempered by a warmth in his expression that went straight to my heart.
That wasn’t lust. It was adoration. Nobody had ever looked at me like that, and I knew nobody ever would again. This was the real thing.
His hands were on my hips now, but he didn’t guide me. Instead, he mostly seemed to try to steady me—to give me the support I needed while I worked him deeper and deeper inside me.
Finally, my eyes drifted closed. I focused on the pleasure, trying to shut out the pain, and before I knew it, it was actually starting to feel good. There was still pain, but it was much easier to ignore it in favor of the warmth shooting through my body. It wasn’t just his touch. It was the way he looked at me, and the knowledge that I was naked on top of him, out in the open for all the world to see.
I threw my head back. “Ahh…”
