Chapter 6
Chapter Six
FELICITY
M y head swims as I turn away from the mostly naked mountain man, glimmering wet in the afternoon sun. I have to pull my eyes away from the view below the belt, a thick, long rod at full attention framed by black curls that climb up his lower abdomen, peeking over his waistband like an undeniable invitation. This man is steamy, juicy, muscular perfection, and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted any guy. It’s abundantly apparent he wants me, too.
Inside, my eyes roam his cabin, taking in the rough-hewn wooden walls finished to a bright shine. The floors glow with a golden-red patina, lined with rustic carpets in vintage patterns. Black and white photos cover the walls, historical images of sheepherding operations. I can tell by the mountains in the background many were photographed in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
I enter the guest bathroom, turn on the light, and stare in the mirror. I’m a muddy mess, with brown fingertip swipes on my cheeks and dirt down the front of my shirt and skirt. But it’s nothing that won’t come off in the wash.
Undressing in front of the mirror, I’m aware of the painful throb between my legs. A throb Fierce awakened with his first muddy kiss, and one that keeps growing in intensity and urgency. My pink panties are a wet mess. I need him so much I have trouble breathing.
What the hell has gotten into me? Thanks to my extended breakup with Tim, I can’t remember the last time I got laid. But I never felt any of the animal magnetism for my college sweetheart that I do Fierce. I nearly jumped him in the yard. Let me rephrase that. I should’ve jumped him in the yard, and I’ll regret it until the day I die.
My mind spirals in dangerous directions, skimming through memories of flesh-colored, angular planes glistening with sweat and wet mud. Kisses like the salt of the earth, igniting some core of passion within I didn’t even know I had. I start the shower, pulling back the curtain and stepping tentatively into the bathtub until I’m under the hot spray.
My pussy aches so painfully I switch to cold water, trying to regain control. But it doesn’t work. I think about using my finger to take off the edge. But with the gorgeous cock I saw outlined in Fierce’s wet underwear under the same roof? I can’t even fathom self-pleasuring.
Would it be so wrong to give into what we’ve been doing long distance in person? I know it would be far, far more satisfying. I go through the motions using shampoo, conditioner, and a flowery body wash. They all indicate this is a guest bathroom. But I can’t bring my mind back to elevated thoughts. Instead, they keep scraping the bottom of the most banal barrel of needs.
Finally, I stand in front of the mirror with a big white towel wrapped around my core, my hair towel-dried, and my face makeup-free and glowing. I take a deep breath. I have to go out in this because I don’t have my luggage in the bathroom.
Fierce said he’d put it in the guest bedroom. I just have to get to said bedroom and put on some clothes. Yeah, right. As if underwear, jeans, and a shirt will double as a makeshift chastity belt.
I step out into the hallway, hearing the cabin floorboards squeak beneath my feet. Despite internal chastising, my mind remains fixated on one thing—Fierce. I long to be fucked, and fucked hard, by the mountain man.
“I put your luggage in the guest bedroom,” a voice calls, low and authoritative, down the hallway. “Second door to the left.” I should follow his directions. That’s all I have to do. It’s so damn simple.
But recent sexy FaceTiming and weeks of lusting after this man grip me. My brain says one thing, but my feet and body say another, beelining in the opposite direction towards the source of the masculine voice.
When I enter the living room, Fierce reclines on the couch wearing a fresh pair of Wrangler’s with a white tight-fitting shirt and bare feet. His black curly hair is damp from the shower, and he smells of spicy aftershave. His blue eyes dart towards me, his gaze instantly darkening as he makes no compunction about taking me in from head to toe and back again.
“Fuck,” he says in a lust-filled voice. It confirms everything I need to know.
Walking towards him on shaky feet, the juncture between my legs pulses with need as he visually devours me. Desire radiates from his eyes like an aphrodisiac, heightening the throbbing of my pussy.
When I stand directly in front of him, I let the towel fall to the floor. It is so uncharacteristic of me. But then, so is masturbating over FaceTime and all our sexy talk. Something about this man’s animal magnetism and the way his eyes swirl with love and lust push me over the edge into sheer abandon.
To my shock, he drops forward on his knees in front of me, grabbing my right leg and hoisting it over his shoulder. His left arm holds my standing leg tightly as he splays my pussy lips open with his forefinger and thumb, swirling my clit with his hot, velvety tongue. His stroke is demanding, and I hang onto him for dear life and balance as he laps my juices, twisting his tongue around my pearl until I see stars.
“Fuck,” he growls like a man possessed. “I need more. I need so much fucking more of you.” He looks up at me with feral eyes, commanding, “Lie down on the couch.”
My legs shake, and the tension in my pussy ratchets to the extreme as I make my way to the couch—no reason left in my mind. All I can think about is the pounding between my legs and the many ways he can tame it.
I recline back on the couch, and he shoulders enthusiastically between my legs, pulling my thighs urgently apart so that a calf rests on each of his shoulders. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Felicity,” he says in deep tones, stroking my large hips and ample ass before pulling me to the edge of the couch. “And worth every moment of the painful wait.”
With another deep-chested growl, he buries his head between my legs again, eating me out with double the fury. He sucks my clit into his mouth, flicking it teasingly with his teeth as his fingers slide into my pussy, making me rear my head back, gasping for air. “So juicy and wet,” he observes, pulling out his pointer finger and licking it slowly clean as I shake with yearning. “And all for me.”
“Yes,” I manage, stuck somewhere between begging and sobbing.
“Is this what you want?” He asks darkly. “If not, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
“We should’ve started this in the backyard while I was hosing you off,” I confess.
He chuckles. “Plenty of time for backyard antics. Now, I want to make you come, screaming my name and clawing the shit out of my back as you ride my hand and face.”
“I can do that,” I pant.
“Good,” he sighs, dipping his head towards my pearl. He circles and teases me as I soar higher and higher, climbing the precipice to bliss. Sinking his finger back into me, he adds a second, filling me to perfection and leading me closer to orgasm. His pointer finger finds my G-spot, stroking it expertly until naughty, wet sounds and the smell of my arousal fill the air.
“You’re going to come for me, and you’re going to come hard. Understand?” The dark-haired mountain man orders in sexy, confident tones.
I soar towards ecstasy, drawn by every stroke of his finger and every swipe of his tongue until I topple over the precipice of need. Curling my body around him, I dig my nails into his rock-hard back, screaming his name.
“Fuck, yeah,” he says as silence takes back the room. “You squirted, Firefly. That was fucking beautiful.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. “I did?” I’ve never done that in my life. I didn’t even know it was possible. “I’m sorry if I’ve made a mess of your couch.”
“Don’t apologize for that, Felicity. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You have me so damn addicted to you right now. Can we call you my mail-order bride and be done with it?”
My eyes round as I peek between my legs at the rugged shepherd.
“What?” he says with a big smile. “I’ve been telling you for two months how much I want you. And part of wanting you is sharing you with no one. He removes my legs one at a time from his shoulders before standing and unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.
Without hesitation, he takes off his pants and underwear, giving me a gorgeous eyeful of his enormous cock, surrounded by a masculine outcropping of black hair with two large balls dangling. I want to suck them in my mouth and swirl them around as his face dissolves with the kind of ecstasy he just gifted me. As he removes his shirt, I reverse the move he used on me a moment ago, falling onto my knees in front of him.
Pulling the shirt free from his head, he looks down, his eyes large as he takes in my mischievous smile. “This is a game two can play, you know,” I say seductively, licking my lips as I grip the backs of his thighs and swipe the smooth head of his cock for the first time.
“Oh, God,” he sighs deep in his chest as my tongue licks over his head again and again, and I watch him unravel in front of me. Dipping my head lower, I suck his balls one at a time in my mouth, swirling my tongue around him and savoring his fast-paced breathing and moans.
He pants, “I’m clean, and I have condoms. But do you want a fucking confession?”
I stop, staring up at him, mischief on my mind. “My guess is you’d confess anything right now.”
“What I really want to do is take you raw and fill you with my seed. I want to bury our first kid in your belly. That’s what I really want.”
I eye him, alarmed by how much his words turn me on. I’ve always been a career-oriented girl. But the undeniable truth is my pussy’s dripping for that fantasy. Nothing sounds better than his cock buried balls-deep, flooding me with his cum.
“I’m clean, too,” I manage, although sexual tension plays with my voice until it wavers. “And I’m on birth control. So, we’ll have to save your confession for later. But no need for condoms now.”
“No need for condoms?” He repeats roughly, and I nod. I swirl my tongue around his smooth, hard cock, licking and savoring its shower-clean flavor. As I take the tip into my mouth, he cries out something in Basque that sounds sexy as hell. “We’re going to have to get married right away, Firefly. Because I can’t confess all of this to Father Francisco.”
My heart feels heavy in my chest. Married right away? Not when he finds out about the article and why I’m here. Although, honestly, I diverted from the path of a newsworthy reporter about the time I dropped the towel. So, maybe a career change is in order.
I take him deeper now, feeling his muscles tighten as he tries to hold back. I suck his rod into my mouth, licking and sliding over him as I relax my throat, sending his head past my tonsils. He cries out again, something guttural and beastly. As I tease and take him deep, twirling my tongue around his rod, I gently cup his balls, running my fingertips over the soft hair covering them until I feel them pull up tight against his body. “I’m about to come,” he warns, his thighs tensing. “You don’t have to swallow if?—”
“I want to,” I say, looking up.
“Fuck,” he growls.
My mouth barely covers him again before an orgasm rips through his rod powerfully, flooding my mouth with warm, metallic-flavored cum. I take him without reservation, swallowing everything he has to give, my cheeks hollowing enthusiastically. I continue until his body trembles, and he puts a shaking hand on my head to stop me.
“Fuck,” he exclaims as I let his cock slide from my mouth, sitting back on my heels to look him in the eyes. His face floods with emotion as he strokes my cheek. “You’re never leaving me. Do you understand? You’re mine from now on, Felicity.”
What have I done?
Doubt clouds my eyes as I continue to hold the gaze of this rugged mountain man. What I wouldn’t give to believe his words. But the article looms in the back of my mind, along with my poverty and school debt—things he has yet to learn about me.