Page 49 of Rescued By the Mountain Man Cowboy
I move. Tiny strokes at first. Barely an inch. Then more. Even more. Slow. I keep my fingers on her clit, working her. She relaxes around me a little more with every stroke, and I tell her she's doing so good. She's so brave, so tight, so beautiful, mine. Her hips start meeting me, just barely, and the sounds coming out of her are nothing like anything I've heard before.
"Fuck, Anna." I move my hand from her clit to slide a finger into her pussy at the same time I'm in her ass. She breaks open. A long, shuddering moan. Her body clenches around both of me and her hand comes back, blind, looking for me. I lace my fingers with hers against the pillow.
"I'm gonna come, Brown Eyes."
"Me too. Come with me?"
I don’t respond. Can’t. I work her clit in earnest, fast circles now, letting myself move just a little harder. Just a little. She comes apart under me with a cry that's half my name and scream, and I follow, pressed deep, my mouth at her shoulder, her hand crushed in mine.
We breathe.
I ease out of her carefully. She makes a small sound. I shush her gently. Pull off the condom. Drop it. And then I gather her up against me on her side and kiss the back of her neck, the top of her shoulder, and the wet of her cheek where she's quietly leaking tears again, but they're not bad ones. I know the difference now.
"Anna."
"Mm."
"You’re incredible."
She laughs. Tired. "You’ve said that."
"Worth saying a million times."
I lie there with her for I don't know how long. Long enough to feel her heart slow under my palm. Long enough to know she's not asleep yet, but close.
I sit up. Slide my arms under her. Lift her.
"Luke?"
"Shower."
"I can't stand."
"Don't have to. I got you."
I carry her. The cabin's small. The bathroom is just off the bedroom. I kick the light on low, turn the water on warm, get it right, then step in with her in my arms because I'm not setting her down on cold tile. The water hits my back. She shivers and burrows into my chest.
I set her gently on her feet, keep one arm around her waist to steady her, and reach for the soap. I lather her. Her shoulders. Her back. Her ribs. Down her arms. Between her thighs, slow and careful. The curve of her ass, gentler still. I rinse her with my hand cupped under the water like she's a small wild thing. She lets me. She rests her forehead against my collarbone the whole time and lets me.
I wash her hair too because I want to. Because I've thought about her hair for eight days, and now I get to hold it wet between my fingers. She makes a small sound that might be a purr.
"You're spoiling me."
"Taking care of you. Different sport."
When the water's run cool, I shut it off. Towel her dry. Wrap a second around her hair. Carry her out to the bed because herlegs have given up, and I don't blame them. The sheet's a wreck. I peel back the quilt on the other side, lay her down on the cool, fresh half of the bed, and climb in behind her.
I pull her back against my chest. Wrap my arm around her ribs. Tuck my chin into the top of her head.
She finds my hand in the dark and laces her fingers through mine.
"Luke?"
"Yeah."
"Sleep with me tonight?"
"Wasn't planning on leaving."
