Page 45 of Rescued By the Mountain Man Cowboy

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She gasps. Looks at me.

I hold her eyes.

"You ever had anybody touch you here, Brown Eyes?"

She shakes her head.

"You want me to."

"...Yes."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"That's my brave girl."

I keep my mouth on her clit. Keep two fingers of my other hand moving in and out of her pussy, slow now, deep. And I let my thumb circle her ass. Just circle. Just slick her up. Let her feel something brand new while my mouth keeps her flying.

She breaks the second time with a sound I've never heard before in my life. A sob and a moan stitched into one. Her whole body locks. Her pussy clenches around my fingers so hard I groan against her clit. She comes for what feels like a week, shaking through it, gasping my name, and I work her down with long licks and gentle strokes inside her until she goes loose against the mattress.

I sit up.

She’s wrecked. Sweat at her hairline. Cheeks pink. Eyes wet again, but a different wet now. Mouth parted. Tits rising and falling.

"Hey."

"Hey," she whispers.

"You good?"

"I am... I have never. Luke. I."

"I know."

I peel my shirt off over my head. Her eyes go to my chest. The ink. The scars she hasn't asked about. The cut of muscle from years of work and years of running before that.

She reaches up and presses her palm flat over my heart.

"Come here," she says.

I shuck my sweats and the boxers underneath in one move. Her gaze drops. Stops. I'm hard enough to drive nails. She licks her lower lip.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I."

"Eyes up here, sweetheart, or I'm not gonna make it."

She laughs. Gorgeous.

I lean over to the small table by the bed where my pack is on the floor. Dig out a strip of condoms from a side pocket because Gabe gave me a goddamn lecture on protection ten years ago that's still wired in my brain. Tear one open. Roll it down.

I move back over her. Brace on my forearms. Settle between her thighs. The head of my cock slides through her wet, knocks against her clit, and her hips jerk.

"Look at me, Anna."

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