The Mountain Sees What He Sees
# Mountain Star Surrender The chill mountain air bit through the fleece of my jacket, but the water steaming in the cedar tub promised a different kind of heat. Beside me, Griffin’s solid form was a familiar anchor, his beard dark against
Chapter 1
The chill mountain air bit through the fleece of my jacket, but the water steaming in the cedar tub promised a different kind of heat. Beside me, Griffin’s solid form was a familiar anchor, his beard dark against the stark white snow surrounding the secluded deck. The only sounds were the crackle of the firepit and the distant sigh of pines.
He’d booked this place, a rugged A-frame buried in silent peaks, calling it an “adventure.” My heart had hammered at the word. Our adventures used to be skin against sleeping bags, his rough palms mapping my curves under open skies. Now they were more about which new restaurant to try.
“Come on, Jade,” his voice, a low rumble, cut through my thoughts. He’d already stripped to his swim trunks, the firelight dancing over the defined planes of his chest and shoulders, tracing the happy trail that disappeared into the waistband. My mouth went dry. This was the Griffin who’d first made me feel shy and seen all at once—his intense blue eyes missing nothing.
I shucked my own layers, the cold pricking at my skin until I sank into the near-scalding water with a gasp. The heat was an immediate, languid invasion. I felt exposed, my full breasts buoyant, the trimmed hair between my thighs a secret in the churning bubbles. I caught him looking, his gaze not on my face but traveling slowly, possessively, over the freckles scattered across my chest, the generous swell of my hips he loved to grip.
“Quiet up here,” he murmured, shifting closer. The water sloshed, and his muscular thigh pressed against mine under the surface. A simple touch, but it sent a bolt straight to my core. “Too quiet. I can hear you thinking.”
“Just… taking it in,” I managed, my voice smaller than I intended.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his beard scraping deliciously. “Tell me what you’re really taking in.” His hand found my knee beneath the water, a heavy, warm weight. “Is it the view… or is it me?”
My breath hitched. This was the dirty talk I craved but was too timid to initiate—the blunt, hungry acknowledgment of desire. It awakened the submissive ache in me, the part that wanted to be laid bare by his command.
“You,” I whispered, the confession torn from me. “Always you.”
A slow, predatory smile touched his lips. His hand slid from my knee up my thigh, the calluses a delicious rasp against my sensitive skin. “This,” he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch meant only for me, “this comfortable love we have… it’s a good foundation.” His fingers traced idle circles, inching higher. “But I remember what we built on it. I remember the woman who’d let me explore every inch of her, who’d come apart just from the sound of my voice.”
His words were an erotic massage for my soul, kneading away years of polite routine. His touch was still maddeningly casual, but his eyes held a storm.
“I want her back,” he breathed, his nose tracing my jawline. “I want to worship that body until you scream. I want to feel you lose control for me. Again.”
The obstacle of our own comfort shattered. Here, under a blanket of icy stars, with the wilderness holding its breath, there was nothing to be but his. The tension wasn’t in the space between us anymore; it was in the liquid fire pooling in my belly, in the desperate need to surrender to the adventure in his eyes.
I turned my head, finding his lips with mine. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a claiming, a promise. When I pulled back, my shyness was burned away, leaving only a raw, wanting truth.
“Then stop remembering,” I said, my voice trembling with newfound courage. “And start reminding me.”
Chapter 2
“Good girl,” Griffin rasped, the words a low vibration against my lips. His hand, still submerged, finally slid the last crucial inch, his thick fingers parting my trimmed curls. A ragged gasp tore from my throat as he found my core, already slick and swollen from his words alone. “Jesus, Jade. Soaked for me already.”
He didn’t tease. One blunt finger pressed inside, a slow, claiming invasion that made my back arch against the cedar tub. The water sloshed wildly. “Tell me,” he commanded, his blue eyes locked on mine, reflecting the firelight like a predator’s. “Tell me what you want my mouth to do first.”
My shyness was incinerated by the sheer, shocking intimacy of his touch. “Your… your mouth,” I panted, my own hands finding the solid, wet muscles of his shoulders, clinging for purchase. “I want to feel your beard… there.”
A dark, approving groan rumbled from his chest. “Fucking perfect.” In one fluid, powerful motion, he lifted me from the water, my body dripping and steaming in the frigid air, and settled me on the wide edge of the deck. The heated wood seared my ass, a stark contrast to the chill on my skin. He knelt between my legs, his hands spreading my thighs wide, exposing me completely to the starry sky and his hungry gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick. He leaned in, his breath a hot ghost over my most sensitive flesh. “All this gorgeous, curvy fucking beauty. All mine to taste.” He didn’t make me wait. His mouth descended, and his tongue—broad, wet, and relentless—licked a firm, slow stripe from my entrance all the way up to my clit.
I cried out, my fingers tangling in his damp brown hair. He held my hips down, pinning me in place as he feasted. He worshiped me with his mouth, licking and sucking with a focused intensity that stole my breath. The scrape of his beard was an exquisite, rough counterpoint to the soft, maddening flicks of his tongue. He plunged it inside me, then circled my aching clit, reading every shudder and whimper like a map.
“Griffin… please,” I begged, my hips trying to buck against his firm grip.
“Please what, baby?” he growled against me, not stopping his rhythm. “You want my cock? This tight, pretty pussy gonna squeeze me dry?”
“Yes! God, yes, just… I need you inside.”
He pulled back, his lips glistening. He stood, his own need evident in the thick outline of his small, hard cock straining against his wet trunks. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and shoved them down, freeing himself. He was thick and perfect, the tip already beading with moisture. He fisted himself slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Then come here,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. “On your hands and knees. Show me that ass I dream about.”
Trembling, I turned, lowering myself onto the rough-hewn planks. The night air kissed my back as I presented myself to him, the submissive act flooding me with a deep, primal heat. I felt him kneel behind me, his hands gripping the generous swell of my hips.
“You remember this,” he said, not asking. The broad, blunt head of his cock pressed against my soaked opening, not entering, just applying delicious, maddening pressure. “You remember how I fill you up.”
“I remember,” I breathed, pushing back against him, a silent plea.
With a grunt of pure need, he surrendered. He sheathed himself in one smooth, deep stroke, his thickness stretching me perfectly, burying himself to the hilt. A broken moan was punched from my lungs. He felt huge, and incredible, and like home.
“Fuck,” he hissed, going still for a moment, letting us both feel the overwhelming fit. Then he began to move, setting a deep, rolling rhythm that had my full breasts swaying with each powerful thrust. The sound of our skin meeting, of his body claiming mine in the silent mountains, was obscene and beautiful. He leaned over me, blanketing my back with his heat, his mouth at my ear.
“This pussy is still the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he grunted, his pace quickening. “Gonna make you scream. Gonna make you come all over my cock.”
Chapter 3
“Look at you,” Griffin groaned, his pace a relentless, deep piston. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, holding me open and still for his thrusts. The sound of his body slapping against mine, of his hard cock driving into my soaked pussy, echoed off the silent mountains. “Your ass is fucking perfect like this. Taking me so deep.”
I could only moan, the rough wood of the deck biting into my knees and palms, the contrasting sensations only heightening the overwhelming pleasure. His thickness stretched me exquisitely, hitting a spot inside that made stars burst behind my closed eyelids with every plunge.
“You gonna come for me, Jade?” he demanded, his voice a dark, ragged thing. He leaned over, his chest hot against my back, his lips at my ear. “You gonna let go all over my cock like you used to? I wanna feel that sweet pussy squeeze me dry.”
“Yes… Griffin, please, I’m so close,” I cried out, the words torn from me. The promise of release was a tight, screaming coil in my belly, fed by his filthy words and the powerful rhythm of his hips.
“Tell me what you need, baby. Use your words.”
“Harder,” I begged, shoving my ass back against him. “I need it harder. Please!”
A guttural sound ripped from his throat. “Fuck. Since you asked so nice.” He planted his feet, his grip on my hips turning iron, and his thrusts became punishing, a brutal, glorious rhythm that stole the breath from my lungs. The force of it drove my clit against his thrusting base with every snap of his hips, a dual-point assault that pushed me to the edge.
“That’s it,” he growled, the pace becoming frenzied. “I can feel you getting tighter. You’re gonna come. Do it. Come on my cock, right now.”
The command was the final key. The coil snapped. My vision whited out as a violent, shuddering orgasm tore through me. My inner muscles clenched and fluttered around his thick shaft, a pulsing, milking rhythm I couldn’t control. A broken, sobbing scream was ripped from my throat, echoing into the vast, starry night.
Feeling me clamp down, Griffin lost his rhythm. “Fuck! Jade!” he roared, his own release triggered. He buried himself to the hilt, his body going rigid against mine. I felt the hot, pulsing rush of his climax deep inside me, flooding my core with each thick jet. He groaned, a long, satisfied sound, as he emptied himself.
He stayed there for a long moment, both of us panting, connected, our skin steaming in the cold air. Slowly, carefully, he pulled out and gathered my trembling body against his chest, turning us so we could lean back against the warm tub. He kissed my sweaty temple.
“Welcome back, adventure girl,” he murmured into my hair, his voice thick with emotion and satisfaction. He traced a hand over my stomach, a possessive, soothing stroke. “That’s my girl.”
Chapter 4
His come was a slick, primal heat inside me as we slumped together against the tub, our breathing slowly syncing with the sigh of the wind. The world felt soft, the edges blurred. Griffin’s hand never left my stomach, his thumb making slow, possessive circles on my skin.
“Inside,” he murmured after a long silence, his voice rough with spent passion. “The fire’s almost out.” He helped me stand, my legs wobbly, and wrapped a thick, warm towel around my shoulders before securing one around his own waist.
The cabin’s interior was a cocoon of shadows and golden firelight. He led me to the plush rug before the stone hearth, where embers glowed. “On your back,” he instructed softly, his tone leaving no room for question, only care.
I lay down, the wool soft against my skin. He disappeared into the bedroom, returning with a small, familiar black bag—his “adventure kit.” My heart gave a hopeful thump. He knelt beside me, unzipping it to reveal a sleek, obsidian vibrator, its surface gleaming in the low light.
“My turn to watch,” he said, his blue eyes dark with a new kind of intensity. He clicked it on, a low, insistent hum filling the space between us. He didn’t hand it to me. Instead, he traced the buzzing tip over my damp skin, starting at my collarbone, skating around the curve of my breast, avoiding the nipple. “You’re so responsive. Every freckle seems to tremble.”
He brought it lower, painting slow, maddening circles around my navel, then along the sensitive crease of my thigh. I whimpered, my hips lifting of their own accord, seeking the vibration. He denied me, holding it just above my trimmed curls, letting the resonant buzz tease the swollen, oversensitive flesh his mouth had just ravaged.
“Griffin, please,” I breathed, the submissive ache returning, deeper now, woven with trust.
“Please what, shy girl?” he asked, his voice a gravelly caress. “You want this little toy to make you scream after I just had you? You want to come again for me?”
“Yes,” I whispered, the confession laid bare. “I want to… to show you.”
A slow, approving smile touched his lips. “Then show me.” Finally, he lowered the vibrator, letting the broad, flat side rest against my clit. The contact was electric, a direct current to my core. My back arched off the rug, a sharp cry tearing from my throat.
“That’s it,” he growled, his free hand pinning my hip to the rug, holding me steady for the sensation. “Let me see it. Let me see how bad you need it.” He began to move the toy in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure perfect, the rhythm devastating. His eyes were locked on my face, then traveled down to watch the effect of his control on my body—my breasts heaving, my stomach clenching.
The peak was a towering wave building impossibly fast, fueled by his focused gaze and the lingering fullness from his climax. I was panting, my fingers digging into the rug, so close to shattering.
Seeing the tension seize my entire body, Griffin lifted the vibrator away. The sudden absence of stimulation was a sweet, cruel void. A sob of frustration escaped me.
He leaned over, his beard scratching my jaw as he kissed me deeply. “Not yet,” he whispered against my lips, his own breath ragged. “I want you on the edge all night. I want to feel how badly you need it when I’m inside you again.” He set the humming toy aside and stretched out beside me, pulling me into the heat of his body, his hard cock pressing against my thigh—a promise, not yet a demand. The desperate need coiled tight in my belly, a live wire waiting for his touch.
Chapter 5
The insistent, delicious ache between my thighs was a heartbeat all its own, pulsing in time with the low hum of the discarded vibrator. Griffin’s hard body was a furnace against my side, his small, thick cock a heavy brand of promise on my hip.
“You feel that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark velvet rumble in the quiet cabin. His hand slid from my stomach down, his fingers tracing through the slick evidence of his own release still on my skin. He brought them to my lips. “Taste what we did. Taste how much you wanted me.”
A shiver of pure submission raced through me. I opened my mouth, my tongue flicking out to lick his fingers clean, the musky, intimate flavor exploding on my tongue. His blue eyes darkened, watching me with primal approval.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he growled, shifting to hover over me. He kissed me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue. “You’re still so tight and wet for me. I can feel it.” He rocked his hips, the head of his cock nudging my swollen entrance, not pressing in, just reminding me of the stretch. “You think you can come again? Right now?”
“I don’t know,” I breathed, the confession honest. My body felt super-sensitized, every nerve alight. “It’s… it’s so much.”
“That’s the point, shy girl.” He lowered his mouth to my breast, taking a peaked nipple between his lips and sucking hard, his beard a rough contrast to the tender flesh. I cried out, my back arching. “I want it to be too much. I want you so overwhelmed you can’t think.” His hand found my core again, two fingers sliding inside me with ease, curling expertly. “Tell me what you need. Your pussy is begging for it. Use your words.”
“I need… I need your mouth again,” I gasped, the fantasy of his bearded face between my legs making me clench around his fingers. “And then… I want to ride you. I want to feel all of you while I look in your eyes.”
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. “Goddamn, Jade. Giving me orders now?” He withdrew his fingers and moved down my body with a predatory grace. “Since you asked so fucking nicely.” He didn’t hesitate. He buried his face between my thighs, his tongue spearing into me, licking deep, before focusing on my throbbing clit. The sensation was electric, immediate, and so intense my legs began to tremble.
“Yes! Just like that!” I moaned, my hands fisting in his hair, holding him to me. The coiling tension began to rebuild, fiercer and faster than before, a tsunami gathering force.
He pulled back, his lips glistening. “Not yet,” he commanded, his voice thick. “On top. Now. I want to watch you fall apart on my cock.”
I scrambled to obey, my body thrumming with need. I straddled his hips, guiding him to my entrance. I sank down slowly, taking every thick inch, a guttural moan tearing from us both as I sheathed him completely.
“Look at me,” he ordered, his hands settling on my waist.
I locked onto his intense blue gaze, and I began to move.
Chapter 6
I began to move, a slow, deliberate grind that seated him impossibly deep. His girth stretched me perfectly, a familiar, breathtaking fullness. I kept my eyes locked on his, watching the blue darken with every rotation of my hips.
“Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, his hands tightening on my waist. “Take your time. Feel every inch of me.”
I did. I savored the drag of his cock inside me, the way my body clenched around him, already so sensitive. The coiling pleasure started as a low hum, building with each circular motion. I leaned back slightly, bracing my hands on his powerful thighs, letting my breasts sway with the rhythm.
“You look so goddamn beautiful riding me,” he said, his voice rough. “Watching my cock disappear into that pretty pussy. You own this, Jade. You take what you need.”
His praise was a catalyst. The slow grind wasn’t enough. A desperate, hungry need took over. I lifted myself up, almost letting him slip out, then sank down hard, a sharp cry tearing from my lips.
“Yeah, there it is,” he encouraged, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Chase it. Fuck me harder.”
I did. I found a punishing pace, rising and falling, my body slapping against his. The sound was raw and wet, mixing with our ragged breaths. The room dissolved into the feeling of him—the stretch, the heat, the relentless friction against the spot that made my vision blur.
“Griffin… I can’t… it’s so close,” I panted, my rhythm becoming frantic, almost clumsy.
“Tell me what you want, shy girl,” he demanded, bucking his hips up to meet my frantic plunges.
“I want to come! Please, let me come on your cock!” I begged, the words a broken mantra.
“Do it. Come for me. Squeeze me tight and let go.”
His permission was the final trigger. My world shattered into white-hot sensation. A raw, guttural scream was ripped from my throat as my body convulsed around him, pulsing wildly. I felt the hot rush of my release, and through the haze, I heard his own choked groan, felt the fierce pulse of his orgasm deep inside me as he held my hips down, filling me completely.
I collapsed forward onto his chest, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together. We were both trembling, breathless. His arms came around me, holding me close as the last aftershocks trembled through us. He pressed a kiss to my damp hair.
“Welcome back, adventure girl,” he murmured, his voice full of exhausted, satisfied warmth.
Chapter 7
The morning light was a pale, cold blue filtering through the tall pines, painting stripes across the tangled sheets. I woke slowly, my body a delicious symphony of soreness, anchored by the heavy warmth of Griffin’s arm draped possessively over my waist. His beard was rough against my bare shoulder, his breathing deep and even.
Last night’s surrender still hummed in my veins, a quiet, potent electricity. I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened, his hand splaying over my belly. A low, sleepy grumble vibrated against my skin.
“Mornin’, adventure girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. His fingers began a lazy, knowing trek, tracing down through my trimmed curls. He found me soft, swollen, and incredibly sensitive from the night before.
I gasped, my back arching into him. “Griffin…”
“Shhh,” he soothed, his lips brushing my shoulder. “Just checking on my favorite place.” His touch was feather-light, a maddening circle that promised everything and gave nothing. “You’re so soft here this morning. So perfect.”
He was hard against the small of my back, his thick cock a persistent, heated pressure. My shyness was a ghost, banished by the raw intimacy of dawn. I pressed back against him, a silent plea.
His chuckle was a dark, warm sound. “Eager already?” His fingers dipped lower, gliding through my wetness with an obscene, slick sound that made me whimper. “God, you’re soaked. Thinking about last night?”
“Yes,” I breathed, pushing my hips into his hand.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he commanded, his voice dropping to that dominant rasp I craved. His middle finger pressed at my entrance but didn’t push in, just teased the swollen flesh.
“I’m thinking about your mouth,” I confessed, the memory making me clench around nothing. “And your cock. How full you made me feel.”
“Good girl.” He rewarded me by finally sliding one thick finger inside, a slow, stretching invasion that had me moaning. He curled it, finding that spot with unerring accuracy, and began a rhythmic pulse. “And what do you want this morning?”
His other hand came up to cup my breast, his thumb rubbing over my taut nipple. The dual sensation was overwhelming. I was already climbing, the coil tightening absurdly fast.
“I want you,” I panted, my hand reaching back to grip his muscular thigh. “I want you inside. Now.”
“Not yet,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, even as his finger worked me deeper. “You come for my hand first. Let me feel you get all tight and desperate for it. Show me how much you need my cock.”
His words were the final key. The orgasm crashed over me, swift and shocking, a silent scream tearing from my throat as my body convulsed around his finger. He held me through it, murmuring praise into my skin, keeping the pressure steady until the last tremor faded.
As I lay there, boneless and panting, he withdrew his hand. I felt him shift behind me, the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently against my soaked, quivering entrance. He was poised, a promise of more exquisite fullness, but he didn’t push forward.
“Later,” he whispered, kissing my neck, his own need a palpable tension in his body. “We have all day. And I’m not done with you.”
Chapter 8
The door clicked shut softly behind him, leaving me alone in the quiet room, still tingling and slick. I let out a shaky breath, my skin humming from his touch. *Okay, Colt. You can play that game.*
I swung my legs out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cool wood floor. A slow, determined smile spread across my lips. He thought he could leave me needy and desperate? He had no idea. The shy girl was still here, but today, she had a mission.
I found him in the kitchen, shirtless, pouring coffee into two mugs. The morning sun lit the dusting of dark hair across his chest, the powerful lines of his back as he moved. My mouth watered.
“Coffee?” he asked without turning, his voice still a little rough.
I didn’t answer. I walked right up behind him, pressing my naked body against his back. I felt him go still. My hands slid around his waist, fingertips tracing the ridges of his abdomen, moving lower until I found the waistband of his sweatpants. He was already hard.
“I’m not thirsty for coffee,” I murmured against his spine, my voice a deliberate, sultry whisper I rarely used.
I hooked my fingers into the fabric and pushed it down over his hips in one smooth motion. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy against my palm. I wrapped my hand around him, giving one long, firm stroke from base to tip. He groaned, his head dropping forward.
“Jesus, Jade…”
“You left me all wound up,” I said, kissing the space between his shoulder blades. My other hand wandered up his chest, pinching a nipple gently. “That wasn’t very nice.”
I sank to my knees right there on the kitchen floor. I nuzzled the firm curve of his ass, then pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the small of his back. I could feel him trembling.
“What are you doing?” His voice was strained, trying to sound in control.
“Worshipping,” I breathed, the word tasting foreign and powerful on my tongue. I turned him around to face me, his cock bobbing at my eye level. I looked up at him, meeting his blazing blue eyes. “You wanted your slut back, remember?”
Before he could answer, I took him into my mouth, swallowing him down until my lips met the coarse hair at his base. I hollowed my cheeks, applying a firm, steady suction as I began to move. My hands gripped his muscular thighs, holding him in place. I was in control here. I set a relentless, deep rhythm, my tongue swirling around the head on every upward stroke. The sounds he made—guttural, broken curses—were my fuel.
“Fuck… Jade, your mouth…” he gasped, his hands tangling in my hair, not guiding, just holding on.
I pulled off with a wet pop, breathing hard. A string of saliva connected my lips to his glistening cock. “You like that?” I asked, my voice husky. “You like watching your shy wife suck your cock like a desperate little slut?”
“Yes,” he hissed, his knuckles white where he gripped the counter.
“Good.” I leaned in again, flicking my tongue over the sensitive slit. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re the one begging.”
Chapter 9
The word ‘slut’ hung in the air, a promise I intended to keep. I took him deep again, my throat relaxing to accept him, a slight gag tightening around his shaft before I pulled back, a thick strand of saliva webbing my chin to his cock.
“You taste so good,” I moaned, my voice wrecked and wet. I licked a broad stripe from his balls to the tip. “This perfect, thick cock. My favorite thing.”
“God, look at you,” he choked out, his hips giving a helpless little thrust. His hands were fists on the counter.
I increased my pace, bobbing my head with a wet, sloppy rhythm. Drool dripped freely, slicking my hand as I worked his base, mixing with the pre-cum beading at his slit. I sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks, the obscene sounds filling the quiet kitchen. I pulled off, panting, just to look up at him. “You gonna come down my throat, baby? You gonna reward your good little cocksucker?”
His eyes were wild, his breath coming in ragged pants. “Jade… fuck…”
“That’s it,” I purred, taking him back in, my tongue swirling. “Let me have it. I want to feel you pulse. I want to swallow every last drop.” I worked him relentlessly, the pressure in my own core building as I serviced him, as I worshipped. My free hand slipped between my own thighs, finding my swollen clit, circling in time with my sucks. The dual sensations were dizzying.
I could feel his control fraying, the tendons in his thighs standing out, his cock swelling impossibly harder against my tongue. The climax was a tremble away, a tight coil about to spring. I redoubled my efforts, my mouth a hot, wet vise, my dirty talk a continuous, praising chant. “Yes, yes, give it to me. Come for me, Griffin. Come in my mouth.”
His groan was a shattered thing. “I’m… I’m gonna…”
He was right there, on the glorious edge. I didn’t stop. I sucked harder, took him deeper, my eyes locked on his, urging him over.
Suddenly, his hands were in my hair, not pushing, but holding me steady as his hips stuttered. A hot, salty burst flooded my tongue. I swallowed eagerly, milking him through it with my lips and hand, drinking every shuddering pulse until he was spent, until he sagged against the counter, gasping.
I slowly released him, licking him clean with soft, tender swipes, a stark contrast to the frenzy of moments before. I rested my cheek against his thigh, smiling up at him, my own need a bright, screaming ache between my legs. “Thank you,” I whispered, utterly sincere.
He looked down at me, his expression dazed and fiercely possessive. He slowly sank to the floor, gathering me into his arms, kissing my spit-slicked mouth deeply. “My turn,” he breathed against my lips, his hands already moving between my legs. “Your worship deserves a reward.”
Chapter 10
With a possessive growl, his strong hands found my waist and lifted me onto the cold granite of the kitchen counter. My bare backside met the surface with a shock, and he spread my legs wide, holding them open. His blue eyes were locked on the center of me.
“Look,” I breathed, my voice a husky whisper layered over the sound of my own pulse. “Look how wet I am for you.” I watched his gaze devour the sight—the slick sheen glistening in the low cabin light, the trimmed curls dark and damp. “This is what you do to me. You turn me into a dripping mess.”
He exhaled sharply, a raw sound of pure want. His thumbs brushed my inner thighs, not touching where I needed him most.
“I want you to touch me,” I commanded, arching my back slightly to present myself more fully to him. “But you can’t be inside me. Not until I say so.” A wicked smile touched my lips as I saw the conflict in his eyes—the desperate urge to plunge forward battling with his promise to obey. “You’re the one who’s going to beg for it now.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You’re cruel,” he rasped, but his voice was thick with admiration.
“I’m yours,” I corrected him softly. “And right now, I want your mouth on me again. Just your mouth. Do you understand?”
He didn’t hesitate. He sank to his knees on the hardwood floor, his broad shoulders pushing my thighs even wider apart. The first flat stroke of his tongue was a revelation—hot, wet, and impossibly deliberate. He licked a broad path through my folds, gathering my arousal, humming against my flesh.
“Oh God,” I moaned, my head falling back. My fingers tangled in his brown hair.
“You taste like heaven,” he growled against me before diving back in with fervent focus. His tongue circled my swollen clit with torturous precision before plunging deep inside me.
The sensations were blinding, a coil tightening low in my belly with every flick and suck.
“That’s it… right there,” I panted, guiding his head with my hands. “Make me feel it.”
He obeyed completely, his big hands gripping my hips to hold me steady as he feasted on me.
The pleasure built in a relentless wave, each crest higher than the last.
“I’m so close,” I whimpered, trembling.
He pulled back suddenly, breathing hard, his beard glistening.
His eyes burned into mine.
“Please,” he begged, the word ripped from him.
“Please what?”
“Let me in.”
Chapter 11
“No,” I breathed, my voice a firm, shaky command. “Not yet, baby. Keep using your mouth and your fingers.” I pushed his head back down between my thighs. “I want you to make me squirt all over this counter. I haven’t done it in so long. Please, Colt. Make me squirt.”
A low groan vibrated against my pussy, a sound of pure, devoted hunger. He didn’t hesitate again. His mouth sealed over me, his tongue plunging deep before circling my clit with furious, wet focus. At the same time, his hand came up, his fingers finding my soaked entrance.
“Yes,” I hissed, my back arching off the cold granite. “Just like that. Fuck me with your fingers.”
He pushed two thick fingers inside me, curling them up in a relentless, come-hither motion that rubbed directly against that swollen, secret spot. The dual sensation was overwhelming—the slick, hot pull of his mouth and the deep, internal pressure of his hand. My own fingers tightened in his hair, holding him to me.
“You feel that?” he growled, his words muffled against my flesh. “Feel how fucking tight you are? You’re gonna drown me, Jade.”
“I want to,” I moaned, my hips beginning to piston against his face, riding his mouth and his hand with abandon. The shyness was incinerated, burned away by a need so raw it owned me. “I’m so close. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
His rhythm became punishing, perfectly coordinated. His tongue flicked and sucked while his fingers fucked into me, his palm grinding against my clit with every thrust. The coil in my belly wound tighter and tighter, a screaming tension of pure pleasure.
“It’s happening,” I panted, my thighs starting to tremble violently around his head. “Oh God, Colt, I’m gonna—“
The world shattered into white light and liquid release. A powerful, pulsing rush surged through me, and I cried out, my body convulsing as I squirted over his hand and mouth, a hot gush that spilled onto the counter and dripped onto the floor. He drank me down, groaning as he milked me through every last shuddering wave until I was boneless and spent, collapsing back against the cabinet.
He rose slowly, his beard and chin glistening. He looked at me, his blue eyes dark with awe and possession. He brought his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean without breaking eye contact.
“Fucking perfect,” he rasped. “Every drop.”
Chapter 12
Slowly, I began to sit up, my body still humming from the release he’d just given me. My fingers, slick from my own arousal, reached forward and wrapped around his hard cock. It was thick and hot, pulsing in my grip.
“Good boy,” I breathed, my voice husky with command. “Now I want you to bend me over this counter and take what is yours. Fuck me with that small, perfect cock.”
A primal sound ripped from his throat. His hands were on my hips in an instant, turning me with a force that sent a thrill through my core. My palms slammed against the cold granite, my ass presented to him, my body open and waiting. I felt the broad, blunt head of him press against my soaked entrance.
“Yes, Colt,” I moaned, pushing back against him. “It’s yours. All of it. Fuck your pussy, baby. Show me who it belongs to.”
He obeyed, sinking into me with one deep, relentless thrust that stole my breath. He filled me completely, the delicious stretch making me cry out.
“God, yes,” I panted, my forehead resting on the counter. “Just like that. You feel so good inside me. Such a good boy for giving me what I need.”
He set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against my ass with every drive. The sound of our skin meeting filled the kitchen, a raw, filthy music. I met him thrust for thrust, my own hips rolling back to take him deeper.
“Talk to me,” he grunted, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks. “Don’t stop.”
“You’re fucking me so deep,” I cried, the words tumbling out in a desperate stream. “Your cock is perfect. It hits me right where I need it. Make me scream for you. Come on, baby, make your girl scream.”
His pace became brutal, focused. Every plunge rubbed that exquisite spot, building a new, tighter coil of pleasure deep in my belly. I was already climbing again, the intensity blinding.
“I’m gonna come,” I warned him, my voice breaking. “I’m gonna come all over your cock. Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”
“Come for me,” he commanded, his own breath ragged. “Soak me. Let me feel it.”
The orgasm tore through me, a violent, consuming wave that clenched around him, milking his length as I shuddered and cried out his name. He drove into me through every pulse, his own control fraying.
“Jade,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering. “I can’t… I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” I begged, pushing back onto him, taking him impossibly deep. “Fill me up. Give it to me. I want it all.”
With a final, ragged shout, he buried himself to the hilt and came. I felt the hot, pulsing release deep inside me, his body shuddering against mine as he emptied himself. He stayed there, collapsed over my back, both of us panting, connected, spent.
After a long moment, he softened and slipped out. He turned me gently, his hands cradling my face. His blue eyes were dark, sated, full of a profound tenderness. He kissed me, slow and deep, a silent promise written in the touch.
“Mine,” he whispered against my lips.
“Always,” I answered, and knew it for the absolute truth.
Chapter 13
Our bodies slipped apart with a slick, intimate sound. The cool air of the kitchen met my heated skin, raising goosebumps. Colt’s hands remained on my hips, his thumbs stroking slow circles as he steadied his breathing against my back.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. He turned me again, his blue eyes drinking in the sight of me—flushed, marked by his grip, his release already beginning to trace a warm path down my inner thigh. “Absolutely wrecked. And so fucking beautiful.”
He lowered himself before me, not in submission, but in worship. His bearded cheek pressed against my stomach, his arms wrapping around my hips to hold me close. I carded my fingers through his damp brown hair, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the raw intensity we’d just shared.
“Come here,” he said, rising and guiding me away from the counter. He led me to the plush rug before the massive stone fireplace, the embers still glowing with a deep, amber heat. He sat with his back against the couch, pulling me down to straddle his lap. My full breasts pressed against his solid chest, my sensitive core resting against the softening proof of his passion.
His large hands slid up my back, applying a gentle, firm pressure. It wasn’t a massage meant to arouse, but to claim and to soothe. He kneaded the muscles along my spine, his touch speaking of possession and profound care. “Every inch of you is mine,” he stated, his lips against my temple. “This shy, curvy, perfect body. This fire you finally let me see again. Mine to cherish. Mine to devour.”
He shifted then, laying me back on the rug. The wool was soft against my skin. He hovered over me, his muscular frame blocking the firelight, casting me in his shadow. He didn’t enter me again. Instead, he began a slow, meticulous exploration with his mouth and hands. He licked the sweat from the valley between my breasts, suckled each peak until I whimpered, his beard an exquisite abrasion. His journey moved lower, over the swell of my mom bod, his tongue dipping into my navel.
When he reached my trimmed bush, he didn’t seek entry. He nuzzled the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, breathing me in, placing open-mouthed kisses that made me tremble. “So wet for me,” he growled, the vibration against my core making my hips jerk. “Still dripping with me. I can smell us all over you.”
He moved back up, aligning his body with mine. The thick, softened weight of his cock lay heavy against my thigh. He kissed me deeply, letting me taste my own scent on his lips. The kiss was slow, languid, endlessly deep. It was a conversation without words, a reaffirmation.
One of his hands slid between us, his fingers finding my swollen, sensitive flesh. He didn’t rub me toward another peak, but traced lazy, soaking-wet patterns, keeping the embers banked and hot. “I could stay inside this pussy forever,” he breathed into my mouth, his fingers circling with maddening lightness. “Just live here, surrounded by your heat. Feeling you clench around me in your sleep.”
The promise in his words, the deliberate, unhurried cadence of his touch, built a different kind of tension. It was the sweet, aching tension of saturation, of being so thoroughly pleasured and possessed that the need for a crashing finale was replaced by a deep, humming contentment. The climb was endless, and I never wanted it to end.
Chapter 14
His touch was a brand and a lullaby, a paradox that pulled me under. The world narrowed to the hypnotic circle of his fingers, the deep rhythm of his breathing, the amber glow painting our skin. My body felt liquid and heavy, every muscle saturated with pleasure. My eyelids grew impossibly weighty.
“That’s it, baby,” Colt murmured, his voice a low vibration against my neck. His circling fingers slowed even further, becoming a soft, persistent presence rather than a driving force. “Just drift. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
The climb was endless, but I was no longer straining for the peak. I was floating within it, suspended in the heat he stoked. A soft, surrendering sigh escaped me as my head lolled against his shoulder.
“Tell me,” he whispered, his lips moving against my temple. “Tell me what you feel.”
My voice was a sleepy slur. “Full… of you. Everywhere. It’s like… you’re still inside me.”
“I am,” he promised, his hand finally stilling, just cupping me, holding me. “You’re soaking my fingers, Jade. Your pussy is holding onto me, even now. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.”
He shifted us gently, lying down on the rug and pulling me against his side, my back to the fire’s warmth. He draped a heavy fleece blanket over us. His arm was a solid bar across my waist, his other hand once more finding its home between my thighs, not to stir, but to possess.
“Sleep,” he commanded softly, his breath warm in my hair. “Let your body remember this. Let it dream of my cock stretching you open again. I’ll be right here, feeling you get wetter in your sleep.”
His words were a filthy, tender promise that wrapped around my consciousness. The last thing I felt was the gentle, rhythmic pressure of his palm against my most sensitive flesh, a constant, grounding pulse of ownership as the world faded to black.
I drifted, not into emptiness, but into a haze of sensation. In the liminal space between wakefulness and dreams, I felt him. The heat of his body was my blanket. The faint, musky scent of our joining was my perfume. And the low, possessive rumble of his voice was the last sound I heard.
“Mine,” he breathed into the silence, as I surrendered completely to sleep, utterly claimed and perfectly content.
Chapter 15
I woke to a world of slow, golden warmth. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, but Colt’s body was a furnace against my back, his arm still a possessive weight across my stomach. His other hand was no longer cupping me, but rested high on my thigh, his fingers splayed as if he’d been mapping the curve of my hip even in his sleep.
A deep, contented sigh stirred the hair at my nape. His lips found the sensitive skin there, not in a kiss, but in a soft, sleepy press. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His hand slid upwards, his thumb finding the seam of my body with an instinctual, lazy familiarity. I was already slick, my body humming from a night steeped in his touch.
“You’re wet,” he stated, the words vibrating against my spine. It wasn’t a question. It was a gratified observation. His thumb began a slow, circular massage, not to drive me toward anything, but to savor the proof of his ownership. “All night, you stayed like this for me. Dreaming of my cock.”
His words ignited a fresh, low burn in my belly. I arched back against him, a silent plea. He answered by shifting, his body aligning with mine. I felt him, hard and thick against the cleft of my ass, still confined in his trunks. The promise of it made me clench around nothing.
“Easy,” he soothed, his hand stilling. He rocked his hips once, a slow grind that pressed his length firmly against me. “We have all day. I want to feel this all morning. I want to feel you get desperate for it.”
He rolled me gently onto my back, the fleece blanket falling away. The cool cabin air pebbled my skin, but his gaze was hotter. He looked down at me, his blue eyes dark with a satisfied hunger. He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking deeply, his tongue flicking the peak until I whimpered. Then he moved to the other, giving it the same devoted attention.
His mouth was a brand, his beard a delicious abrasion. He was worshipping, but it was a worship designed to stoke a fever. When he finally lifted his head, my chest was heaving, my skin flushed.
“My turn,” he whispered, a wicked gleam in his eye. He shifted down the length of my body, his large hands spreading my thighs apart. He didn’t dive in. He just looked, his breath ghosting over my sensitive flesh, making me shudder. “So pretty. All mine.”
Then he lowered his mouth, not to devour, but to taste. A long, slow lick from bottom to top that had my hips lifting off the rug. He hummed, the vibration shooting straight to my core. He did it again, and again, each pass a little slower, a little more thorough, mapping every fold with a torturous patience that built an ache so profound it felt like a physical weight in my pelvis. He was savoring me, drawing out the prelude until the air between my legs was electric with unmet need.