Page 89 of Craved By the Mountain Man

For one suspended second, he doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

Then his grip tightens.

“You’re mine,” he grunts, the words a raw command. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

“Yours!”

My fingers claw at the wall as he pulls back.

Then slams into me again.

He doesn’t go slow.

He takes me with a hard, relentless rhythm, each stroke driving me tighter against the wall. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in, filling me again and again until I can barely think around the sensation.

The sound of our bodies fills the cabin.

My gasps.

His rough breathing.

Skin striking skin every time he drives into me.

The friction is electric.

Every time he bottoms out, I feel the weight of him, the sheer power of his body behind mine.

His hand reaches around and closes over my breast, fingers tightening before he rolls my nipple between them hard enough to make me gasp.

His other hand stays locked on my hip, holding me exactly where he wants me while he keeps hitting the same devastating spot deep inside me.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you,” he groans against my neck. “Wanted you against this wall. Against every surface of this cabin. Wanted to make sure you knew exactly where you belonged.”

I’m losing my mind.

Pleasure winds tighter and tighter inside me until it feels like I’m going to come apart.

I push back into him, asking for more without words.

He gives it to me.

His grip shifts, his arms hooking beneath mine as he lifts me slightly and drives even deeper.

My cry breaks against the wall.

His pace turns faster.

Harder.

More desperate.

The controlled man who pinned me to this wall two nights ago is gone.

Now there is only Gavin behind me, taking everything I offer and demanding more.

“Gavin. Please.”