Page 37 of Her Mountain Man Protector

She wants more.

I shove the pistol crate farther away with my heel and get both hands in her curls. I don't push. I hold. She looks up the length of my body in the dim, lips stretched, eyes wicked, and takes me deeper on purpose.

"Fuck. That's it. Use that mouth. You been lying here planning this? Waiting until I dropped off so you could get me down your throat before I could decree anything?"

She pulls off long enough to say, "You talk too much for a man getting sucked off." Then she licks a slow stripe from base to head and swallows me again.

My head hits the pillow. Pleasure runs hot and mean through my thighs. I've been inside her once tonight and it already isn't enough. I could live and die in this bed and still want the next hour. That thought should scare me clean. It does. The scare is new. Missions don't do this. Brothers in trouble don't do this. An empty trail after Dad vanished didn't put this ice in my gut.

Losing her would.

I cup her jaw while she works me, thumb at the corner of her stretched mouth. Spit shines on my cock when she comes up for air. She strokes what she isn't swallowing and twists her wrist the way I showed her without meaning to teach.

"Good. So good. Look at you drooling on my dick because you couldn't wait until dawn. Pretty thing. Mine. You keep that up I'm going to come down your throat and I'm not ready to waste it there."

She hollows her cheeks and takes me anyway, stubborn even now. Heat licks up the backs of my thighs. My hips twitch. I lock them down so I don't choke her. The wet sound of her mouth fills the cabin. Spit slides down to the base of me and her fist follows it. Her free hand slides under to cradle my balls, gentle, and a groan tears out of me that I'd be ashamed of in daylight. A gust hits the north wall. I watch her throat work and I have to close my eyes or I'll come on the spot.

"Oakley. Baby. Off."

She doesn't come off. I fist her hair and lift her myself, careful, and the loss of that heat makes me swear. She's panting. Her mouth is red. Her tits move with each breath where the blanket has fallen off her shoulders. I haul her up my body and kiss her filthy, tasting salt and myself, and roll her under me in one motion.

"I said off. You don't get to finish me in your mouth the first time you wake me like that. I want it in you. I want to feel you come on me again. I want to watch your face when I fill you."

"Then put it in me," she says. "Stop making speeches."

"I'll make any speech I want while I'm looking at this pussy all wet and ready without me touching it. You got off on sucking me. Didn't you?"

Pink hits her cheeks. She nods.

"Words, sunshine."

"Yes. I got off on it. I woke up wanting you on my tongue. Happy?"

"Thrilled. Knees up."

I notch against her and push in on one long, shaking slide. She's slick and swollen from earlier and she still grips me hard enough to punch the air from my lungs. I bottom out and stay there, forehead to hers, both of us breathing too hard for a still room.

The fear sits right next to the pleasure. It has a shape now. Her gone. A van. A grate. A drive they already took. A body I can't put myself in front of. I've walked toward gunfire since I was old enough to enlist. I've never had my hands shake on a woman. The idea of a world without her in it opens a drop under my feet.

I kiss her to shut that drop. I start to move.

Slow at first. Deep. I drag out until she makes that small betrayed sound and roll back in until her mouth opens on my name. Her nails find my shoulders. Her heels find my ass. I get a hand under her thigh and open her wider so I can watch where we're joined, my cock shining with her every time I pull back.

"Look at that. Taking all of me. So fucking pretty stretched around my cock. You were made for this. Made for me. Say you feel it."

"I feel it. God, Colt. Harder."

I give her harder. The bed knocks. Her tits bounce and I duck my head and get my mouth on one nipple, then the other, sucking while I grind against the spot that made her shake last time. She clenches as I groan into her skin.

"That's my girl. Squeeze me. Show me who this pussy belongs to."

"You," she gasps. "It's you. Don't stop."

"Not stopping. Not pulling out. You wanted me in you. You're going to feel me for days. Every time you sit in that truck tomorrow you're going to remember I was buried here while the mountain tried to bury us."

She laughs once, broken, and then the laugh turns into a moan when I change the angle and stay there, short brutal strokes that keep me tight against her. I slide my hand between us and find her clit with my thumb, wet and swollen, and work it in time with my hips.

"Come on. Give it to me. I want it. I want you shaking under me in the middle of the night because you couldn't sleep without my cock. Come all over me, Oakley. Now."