Is Connor McBride a dirty talker?
He certainly didn’t say much last night.
Anything, really.
But those words only stoke the flames of the inferno raging inside me.
“Yes…”
So. Damn. Close.
He grins against my lips and kisses me deeply, his tongue mimicking his cock as it thrusts in and out of me.
Good God…
I can’t keep it together anymore.
I can’t hold it in.
The orgasm hits me hard, nearly blindsiding me.
My vision goes dark before a rainbow of colors erupt against my closed lids, an explosion of pleasure coursing through every fiber of my being as I jerk under him, my pussy clenching around his hard length while he continues to thrust into me.
He increases his pace now, pumping hard, his hips driving forward, the head of his cock catching in that perfect spot deep inside me in a way that only drags my orgasm on longer, only intensifies the pleasure.
Connor buries his face against my neck and mumbles my name against my heated skin.
He’s about to come, too.
His body tenses, his cock growing impossibly harder inside me for a second before the hot rush of his release fills me, my pussy dragging it out of him as I lie trembling beneath him.
He collapses on top of me, all two-hundred-and-forty pounds of hard, muscular mountain man pinning me to the bed in this tiny shack in the middle of nowhere on this mountain.
Where he kidnapped me.
Where he’s basically keeping me hostage.
But where he’s also keeping me safe.
And somehow, like this, with his weight and his heat fully cocooning me, I do feel safe.
For the first time since the attack on the mountain, I feel like maybe this won’t end with someone in a casket, or with more blood being spilled on this land that we all love so much.
For the first time, there might be hope.
14
FOUR DAYS LATER
RAVEN
I step out from the trail that leads down to the river where Connor has the bathtub set up, and the heat of the sun’s rays hitting me again makes me release a satisfied groan.
It hangs high in the cloudless sky over the mountain today, one of those stunningly perfect late summer afternoons that reminds me why living on McBride Mountain is such a tremendous gift.
Staying cooped up in the cabin writing when the weather is this nice, day after day, is nearly impossible. Fall will hit us before too long, and we’ll lose our ability to be out here like this, regardless of where we are on the mountain.
When I was working at my table in the back corner of the bakery, I never felt this pull to step outside, to walk around and enjoy the fresh air and beauty gifted to us here, but a lot has changed since being dragged up the mountain.
