Page 4 of Fake Dating the Mountain Man

The tip of my cock inches its way inside her, stretching her to take the whole thing. Her eyes widen as she takes me deeper into her body.

“I’m a virgin.” She blurts against my lips.

I pause my movements, needing to make sure she wants to go through with this. “I know, sweetheart. So am I. But we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I want this. I want you, Wilder.” Her mouth captures mine as she grinds her hips down fully impaling herself on my shaft.

The power of completely owning her body like this is too much, and I have to fight the urge to come too soon. This is our first time having sex, and I want to make it good for her.

Fighting my own climax, I roll my hips, pushing my cock deep inside her, then pull almost all the way out and back in again. She throws her head back, pushing her breasts toward my mouth. Taking her offering, I suck one of her hard nipples into my mouth, gently biting it, then repeat with her other nipple, making sure to give them each equal attention.

“Yes, Wilder.” She groans. “Don’t stop.”

“You feel too fucking good for me to ever stop.” I pop her nipple out of my mouth and run my tongue along the curve of her neck, tightening my hold on her hips and bouncing her harder and faster on my cock until she’s exploding in ecstasy, her pussy gripping me so tight that I finally give in, shouting her name as I come deep inside of her.

six

Aspen

Wow! I have noother words that describe what just happened between Wilder and me. I knew it was going tobe good, but earth-shattering is more like it. I turn my head to look into Wilder’s eyes, but instead of the love and happiness I feel, I see doubt and even regret in his.

“Here, let me help you down.” Gently, he lifts me up, and off his still semi-hard cock, the feel of his cum slides out of me as the hot water of the shower washes it down the drain, and all he has to say to me is, " Here, let me help you down.” That’s when it hits me—he regrets us making love.

To salvage my hurt pride, I give him my brightest smile. “Damn, I needed that.” Grabbing the bar of soap, I quickly scrub all traces of what just happened off my body. With an equally quick rinse under the showerhead, I push open the door, leaving Wilder standing in the shower alone.

‘I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.’I silently repeat to myself. ‘I just gave my virginity to someone I thought loved me as much as I love him. You’re a strong, independent woman, you’ll get through this,’I continue my inner monologue. ‘You might have just lost your best friend, but you gain the knowledge that it’s time to move on and find someone who loves you back.’

In my haste to leave the bathroom, I don’t take the time to dry myself off, only wrapping the towel around my body as tightly as I can. I only make it as far as my bedroom door before Wilder is running out of the bathroom, calling my name with only a towel draped around his waist.

The sight of his naked, broad chest, glistening with water, is almost my undoing. I want to pound my fists against this chest,demanding he tell me why I’m not enough for him, then I want to take my tongue and lick away the drops of water.

In the end, I do neither. Instead, I lock my feelings away and blurt out the worst thing possible. “I was thinking you’ve been spending way too much time with me. Don’t you think it’s time to sign up with my mail-order bride agency?”

I realize my mistake a second too late as he descends on me like an avenging, muscular, half-naked angel. But there’s no mistaking the anger and hurt in his tone. “After what we just did, you want me to go out and find someone else?” His fingers dig into my arms, not painfully but like a man clinging desperately to something he fears losing. “I thought you had feelings for me, especially after that.” He nods toward the bathroom door, and my mind is already replaying every touch and every kiss. “But now you want to pawn me off on someone else. Wasn’t I good enough for you? Didn’t I please you?” I open my mouth to tell him he was amazing, but he silences me with a glare. “You’re mine, whether you choose to believe it or not. I’ve been waiting months for the right time to claim you. Sex in the shower might not have been the ideal time, but it was amazing—you’re amazing, Aspen. You came to town with a dream, and in six short months, your business is booming. You’ve not only helped your business succeed but also helped most of the town flourish. I love you, Aspen. I want to spend the rest of my life with you as your husband, but only when you’re ready. I won’t push you or force you. Just know I’m not signing up for your mail-order bride program unless I have a say in who my bride will be, because no one else can compare to you.”

Every doubt I had flies out of my head as I launch myself into his arms, knocking him back onto my bed. “I love you too, Wilder.”I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him with all the love in my heart. “When I saw the look in your eyes after we were done, it looked like you regretted what had happened,” I confess, breaking the kiss.

“Regret? The only thing I regretted was making love to you for the first time in the shower. In my head, I’d always dreamed of having candles and rose petals placed all over your bedroom, with soft music playing in the background for our first time.”

“Oh, Wilder, that sounds amazing. It’s a good thing we have a lifetime of candlelight and roses.”

Epilogue - Wilder

Ten Years Later

“Your pottery skills havegotten better over the years, husband.” Aspen slides into the chair behind me like she’s done numerous times in the ten years we’ve been together.

I turn my head and capture her lips in a kiss, “I have a wonderful teacher, wife.”

Aspen slides her hands along my arms, lacing our fingers together and gliding them over the clay as the wheel spins, deepening the kiss.

“Yuck, Mom and Dad are kissing again,” our five-year-old son, Dalton, announces to his siblings.

“It’s so romantic.” Our eight-year-old twin daughters sigh in unison. “Just like that old movie they watch all the time,” Molly says. Little do they know, we named our twin daughters after the main characters in the movie Ghost. Not Oda Mae, but Molly and Samantha, Sam for short.

Our oldest son escaped the Patrick Swayze name fate only because Aspen wanted to honor me by naming him Wilder Jr. Well, almost, since our shared middle name is Johnny.

“Don’t you rascals have your own artwork to finish?” I raise an eyebrow at our children, each working on a different art project in Sadie’s workshop. We’ve kept up the tradition of renting Sadie’s workshop once a month for family time.

“Show us what you’re working on,” Aspen says as I spin her around and set her on my lap, while our children take turns showing us their paintings.

Wilder Jr.’s painting, of course, has superheroes, while the twins have flowers. But Dalton’s painting stumps us as we count the family members and come up with one extra.

“You have one extra person in your painting.” I point to what looks like a baby crawling on the ground between Aspen and me on his paper.

“Well, the other night, I heard Mommy tell you she wanted you to put a baby in her belly.” At Aspen’s sharp intake of breath, Dalton continues, “I know. I wanted a puppy, but I guess a baby is okay.” Each of our children shrugs in agreement.

I place my hand on Aspen’s still-flat stomach, over Dalton’s new baby brother or sister growing there. We haven’t told the kids about the baby yet, but by the looks of it, they’re ready for a new baby brother or sister—just as long as nobody puts baby in the corner.

-The End-