Page 41 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

"That's it," he murmurs between licks. "Let me hear you."

I'm not quiet. I can't be quiet. Every stroke of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers, pulls another moan from my throat. I'm panting, writhing, my hips moving against his mouth without any conscious thought, chasing the building pressure that's coiling tighter in my belly.

His free hand comes up to hold my thigh, spreading me wider, and his tongue works faster, more insistent. His fingers pump in and out, stretching me, filling me, preparing me, and I feel like I'm going to come apart.

"You taste incredible," he says, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in. "Fucking incredible."

Bear makes a noise from somewhere near the door, a whine that cuts through the haze of pleasure, and then I hear the sound of the door opening and paws on the porch.

I tense immediately. "Griffin, Bear—"

"Don't worry about him," Griffin says against my skin, not stopping. "He doesn’t get scared easily. Just sensitive to loud noises. He'll go back to our house."

The door clicks shut, and then it's just us again, and Griffin's mouth is back on my clit, sucking gently, and I forget all about the dog.

His hand slides up my inner thigh, holding me open, fingers digging into soft flesh as his tongue works magic between my legs. I can feel myself getting wetter, can hear the dirty sounds his fingers make as they move inside me, and it should embarrass me but it doesn't. It just makes everything hotter.

"You're close," he says, and it's not a question.

"Yes," I gasp. "Yes, please don't stop—"

"Not stopping." His fingers curl again, and his mouth closes around my clit, sucking hard.

My whole body arches off the bed, thighs trembling, a sound ripping from my throat that's half scream, half sob. Pleasure crashes through me in waves, each one more intense than the last, and Griffin doesn't stop, doesn't let up, working me through it until I'm boneless, shaking and completely spent.

When I finally come down, he's pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs, my hipbones, and my stomach. Working his way back up my body until he's hovering over me, his face glistening with evidence of what he just did.

"Holy shit," I breathe.

He grins. "Good?"

"Understatement of the century."

He kisses me, and I can taste myself on his tongue, which should be weird but somehow isn't. His cock is pressed against my thigh, still hard, still throbbing, and I reach down between us to wrap my hand around it.

He groans into my mouth. "Hannah…"

"I want you inside me," I say, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "I want this."

He pulls back to look at me, searching my face. "You're sure? We can stop here. You don't have to—"

"I'm sure." I stroke him slowly, feeling the weight and heat of him in my palm. "I need this as much as you do."

"I'm not sure that's true," he says roughly, but he's already positioning himself between my legs, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

He pushes in slowly, just the tip, and the pain is immediate. I gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Breathe," he says, holding still. "Just breathe."

I do, forcing myself to relax, and he slides in another inch. Then another. I'm so wet from his mouth and fingers that he glides in easier than I expected, but the fullness is overwhelming. I've never felt anything like this. Never felt this filled, this stretched, this utterly consumed by another person.

"Fuck," I breathe. "You're so—it's so—"

"I know." He's trembling with the effort of holding still, muscles taut under my hands. "You're doing so good. Taking me so well."

He pushes in the rest of the way in one slow, steady thrust, and suddenly he's fully inside me, buried to the hilt. I can feel him everywhere. So deep I can barely breathe, so thick I feel like I can't move without feeling the drag of him against my walls.

"Okay?" he asks, voice strained.