15. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Beau
The moment I cross the threshold into my bedroom with Molly in my arms, everything changes.
The stone fireplace crackles softly in the corner, warming every inch inside these walls that have never held another woman's laughter before.
Until now.
I set her down gently beside the bed, my hands lingering on her waist because I can't quite believe she's real. That she's here. That she chose me .
"Beau," she breathes, something deep and unknown in her gaze. "You know once we do this—"
"There's no going back," I say roughly, my voice catching on words I never thought I'd say. "But I don't want there to be."
Her hands find my chest, fingers tracing the scars through my shirt, and something breaks loose inside me. She's not afraid of the damage. She's not trying to fix me.
She just... accepts. All of it. All of me.
"You know I'm here, Beau," she whispers, her green eyes holding mine. "I'm yours."
Yours.
The word shatters the last wall I've been hiding behind since the day I bought this empty lot on the mountain.
"And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice leaving that asshole and finding me," I growl, cupping her face in my hands.
She smiles and nods. "Finding you."
Those words are the only confirmation I need.
When I kiss her this time, it's not gentle. It's claiming. It's every fantasy I've had since I was seventeen, every dream I thought would never come true. She melts against me, her body fitting perfectly against mine like she was made for this moment.
Like she was made for me.
The towel slips from her shoulders, and I have to grip the doorframe to keep from falling to my knees. She's still flushed from the hot water, skin glistening, and there's nothing between us but air and want.
"Let me look at you," I say, my voice rough with need.
She lets the towel fall completely, standing before me like a goddess, and I'm struck speechless by her beauty. Her breasts are full and perfect, nipples tight from the cool air, a light flush spreading across her chest that I want to trace with my tongue.
"You're so fucking beautiful, Molly," I tell her, my hands spanning her ribcage, thumbs brushing just under the curve of her breasts. "Perfect body. Perfect skin. Perfectly pretty face."
She gasps when I touch her cheek, arching into my hands like she's been waiting for this as long as I have.
My hand slides down her neck, teasing her as our eyes lock, then I take one hardened nipple in my mouth, sucking gently before biting just hard enough to make her cry out, her hands fly to my hair, holding me against her.
"Beau," she pants, and the sound of my name on her lips makes my cock throb painfully.
Her hands work frantically at the towel wrapped around my waist, and I let her strip it away, watching her eyes widen as she takes in the full extent of my arousal. But instead of being intimidated, she leans forward, pressing her lips to the thick scar on my shoulder.
"My turn," she whispers, and then her mouth is on my chest, her tongue tracing the tattoos that tell the story of everything I've survived. When her hand slides down to wrap around my cock, I nearly lose it right there.
"Fuck, Molly," I groan, my hips bucking into her touch.
She strokes me slowly, and I can see the wonder in her eyes as she feels how hard I am for her. It feels different to the hot tub, firmer, more skin to skin and warmth.
But when she starts to drop to her knees, I catch her hands and lift her back up.
"Not yet," I say, my voice strained with lust. "Tonight is about you, gorgeous."
I need to focus on her. On making this perfect for her.
Because if she touches me much more, I'm going to explode like a goddamn teenager, and this beautiful woman deserves better than that.
I guide her back onto the bed, and she goes willingly, those green eyes never leaving mine. The firelight catches the gold in her hair as she settles against my pillows, and I have to take a moment just to look at her.
Molly Jennings. In my bed. Looking at me like I'm everything she's ever wanted.
"You have no idea how long I've dreamed about this," I confess, my hands trailing down her sides with featherlight touches. "How many nights I've laid in this bed thinking about you."
Her breath hitches as my fingers dance across her skin. "Since when?"
"Since we were kids," I admit, lifting her silky smooth leg and pressing a kiss to her knee. "Since that summer you dated Riley. And I realized what an idiot my brother was for not worshipping the ground you walked on."
I kiss my way up her thigh, savoring the way she shivers under my touch. When I reach the juncture of her legs, I pause, looking up at her.
"Can I?" I ask, and she nods frantically.
I spread her thighs gently, and I have to grip the sheets to keep from coming at the sight of her. Her pussy is perfect. Pink and wet and already swollen with need. It's so wet it's practically dripping, and it's all mine.
Mine.
I spread her thighs wider, settling between them, and she whimpers at the first brush of my breath against her heated skin. Her hands are already moving to her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers, and the sight makes me growl with satisfaction.
"That's it, baby," I murmur against her thigh. "Touch yourself for me."
Molly moans, her hips lifting toward my mouth. "Beau…"
I trace her entrance with my thumb, committing every curve, every reaction to memory.
This moment, her complete surrender… I'll carry it with me always.
"You're so fucking wet for me," I growl, mesmerized by the slick pink folds that smell devine. "I'm going to remember exactly how you look right now. Spread open for me like this. I've never seen anything so beautiful."
When I finally put my mouth on her, she arches off the bed with a cry that goes straight to my cock. She tastes like heaven and home and everything I never knew I was missing. Like freedom. Like forever.
I lose myself in her cunt, licking and sucking and learning every sound she makes. When I slide two fingers inside her, she's so wet and tight that I have to adjust myself to ease the pressure.
But I don't stop. Can't stop.
Because this is my happy place.
Right here, between her thighs, making her fall apart with my tongue.
This is where I fucking belong.
"Beau, please," she gasps, her hips rolling against my mouth. "I need—"
"I know what you need," I growl against her clit, then suck it hard enough to make her scream.
That's when she breaks, her back arching completely off the bed as a scream tears from her throat.
"Beau, oh, BEAU!" she gasps, voice breathless and broken.
Her thighs clamp around my head, her whole body convulsing as wave after wave of her orgasm crashes through her. I can feel her pussy pulsing against my tongue, flooding my mouth with her sweet creamy release as she gushes so hard my sheets are instantly soaked beneath us.
Her hands fist in my hair, holding me against her pussy, making my face grind against her core as she rides out every aftershock, her hips bucking uncontrollably.
The sounds she makes—half sobs, half cries of pure ecstasy—drive me absolutely wild. I don't stop, drawing out every last tremor until she's pushing weakly at my shoulders, too sensitive to take any more.
When I finally lift my head, her juices are drenching my facial hair, and the sight of the wet mess we've made of my bed fills me with fierce satisfaction.
I want evidence of this everywhere. I want to remember exactly how she looked when she shattered for me.
I could stay down here all night, making her come over and over again, but she's pulling at my hair, trying to get me to move up her body.
"I need you," she pants, her eyes glazed with satisfaction but still hungry. "All of you."
I kiss my way back up her body, stopping to lavish attention on her breasts again before capturing her mouth. She moans when she tastes herself on my lips, and I nearly lose it.
My cock is hard and aching, pressing against her thigh, and when she looks down at me, her eyes widen.
"Christ, you're big," she breathes, and I have to close my eyes and think about anything other than the way she's looking at my dick right now.
"I'll be gentle," I promise, positioning myself between her thighs. "I'll take care of you."
"I know you will," she whispers, reaching up to cup my face. "I trust you."
Trust.
The word hits me harder than any bullet ever did. She trusts me. This perfect, beautiful woman trusts me with her body, her pleasure, her heart.
I won't let her down.
I line myself up with her entrance, the head of my cock sliding through her wetness, and I have to grip the base to keep from coming right there.
I watch, mesmerized at her slick pussy, and as I start to push inside her, I see myself slowly disappear inch by inch into her tight heat.
"Fuck," I breathe, watching her pink lips stretch around my thickness.
She's so tight, so perfect, gripping me like a vice as her cunt adjusts to my size. She moans beneath me and I can see every detail—the way she opens for me, how her slick walls flutter around my cock as I sink deeper.
Her breath hitches, and I look up to see her eyes wide with sensation, her lips parted as she takes all of me. I push deeper and the visual of my cock buried completely inside her, her body stretched tight around me, makes my vision blur with need.
She's so tight. So perfect.
"God, look at you," I growl, pulling back just to watch myself slide back in. "Look how perfectly you take me."
"Oh God," she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
"Too much?" I ask, freezing despite every instinct telling me to drive forward. To sink deeper, to plant my seed and lay claim to this woman forever.
"No," she pants. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
"I'll never stop. Not for you, baby."
And I mean those words to the deepest, darkest depths of my soul. Never stop . Not just about this moment—about everything.
I once resigned myself to isolation, convinced I'd die alone on this mountain. Determined to. After what I'd seen, what I'd done, I was sure I didn't deserve more than a lonely life that's haunted by my past.
But now she's here, staring at me with those incredible eyes… Like I'm her salvation instead of her ruin.
And I know with bone-deep certainty that I'd burn down the world for Molly Jennings. I'd build her a thousand homes. I'd face every demon—even Riley, my own flesh and blood—to keep her.
I'll never stop fighting for her. And if anyone ever gets in the way of us, may God have mercy on them.
I push deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until I'm buried completely inside her. For a moment, we just stay like that, connected in the most intimate way possible, breathing hard and staring into each other's eyes.
Home.
The thought hits me with stunning clarity.
This is home.
Not the cabin I built, not the mountain I claimed for eternal solitude, but this. Her . This moment where we're so connected I can't tell where I end and she begins.
I'm fucking home.
"I love you, Molly," I say, the words ripping from my chest like they've been waiting my whole life to be spoken. "I've always loved you."
Her eyes fill with tears, but she's smiling.
That's when I start to move, slow and deep, watching her face for every reaction. She feels incredible around me, tight and wet and perfect, and when she wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, I have to bite back a groan.
"Mine," I growl against her throat, marking her with my teeth. "You're mine now."
"Yes," she gasps, meeting my thrusts. "Always yours."
I lose track of time after that. There's nothing but the sound of skin against skin, her soft cries, the way she says my name like a prayer. When she comes again, clenching around me, I follow her over the edge, her name torn from my lips as I empty myself inside her.
We collapse together, breathing hard, slick with sweat and completely spent. She curls against my chest, her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her like I'm never letting go.
Because I'm not.
She traces patterns on my chest with her fingertip, and I catch her hand, pressing it flat against my heart.
"Feel that?" I ask.
She nods.
"That's what you do to me. What you've always done to me."
She tilts her head up to look at me, and her smile is soft and sleepy and so beautiful it makes my chest tight.
"I can't believe I'm here," she whispers. "With you."
"Believe it," I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because I'm never letting you go."
She sighs contentedly, already drifting toward sleep. But I stay awake, watching her, planning all the ways I'm going to make her dreams come true.
Whatever she wants, she'll have.
She's mine now.
And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving she made the right choice.