16. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Molly
The only way to describe waking up in Beau's king-sized bed is absolute paradise.
With golden sunrise streaming through those gorgeous custom windows, and the softest flannel sheets I've ever felt wrapped around my naked body like a warm hug from heaven itself… I could die a happy girl right now.
The mattress is so perfectly firm yet soft that I feel like I'm floating on a cloud made of luxury and pure masculine comfort.
Everything in this place smells like the forest. And that soap he uses to make him utterly intoxicating. It's the scent that's become as essential to me as my need to be right here.
I stretch in the sheets, every muscle in my body deliciously sore from last night's activities.
God. Last night.
The way Beau looked at me when he carried me in here. How his hands felt mapping every inch of my skin, worshipping my body, tasting my skin.
Then those beautiful words that fell from his lips like a confession pulled straight from his soul.
"I love you, Molly. I've always loved you."
My chest tightens as I remember the moment he grabbed my heart and squeezed so tight I couldn't even reply.
I didn't say it back. I couldn't.
The words got tangled up with fear and confusion, and the absolutely terrifying realization that this man—Riley's brother—might actually be everything I've been searching for my entire life.
I'm pretty sure he noticed. Actually, of course he noticed.
Beau notices everything about me. The way I twirl my hair while I'm overthinking everything. He knows how I bite my lip when I'm nervous. He sees past the smile I use to hide uncertainty.
Unlike Riley. Who only noticed when I wasn't perfect.
Beau somehow finds beauty in all my imperfections. He almost adores them more than my good traits. He remembers everything about me, things I said, things I like… all without being told or reminded.
I shift slightly, settling deeper into the warmth of the sheets, and that's when I feel it.
Oh. Hello there.
Something very large, very hard, and very interested pressing against my ass.
Beau's morning erection is... substantial.
Which, considering what I learned about his proportions last night, shouldn't surprise me. But feeling it now, thick and hot against my skin, sends a bolt of desire straight to my core.
With a delicious smile on my lips, I can't help myself.
I press back against him, just a little, enjoying the way his breathing changes even in sleep. The way his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer like my very own mountain protector.
This is dangerous. Because I know, even as I rock back against him again, I'm just using sex to avoid emotional complexity of our current situation.
But then again, what better way to clear my head than to worship the magnificent man in this bed? To take control and show him exactly what he does to me, even if I can't quite say the words yet?
Before I can second-guess myself, I'm sliding down his muscular body, taking care not to wake him as I settle between his thighs.
Jesus Christ.
Even in the golden morning light, Beau Callahan is a masterpiece.
His cock stands proud and thick, the head flushed dark with need. There's already a bead of moisture at the tip, and my mouth waters as I trace the prominent vein that runs along the underside with just the tip of my finger.
He's so big. Bigger than I remember from last night, when I was too overwhelmed by sensation to fully appreciate the gift I'd been given.
But now, with all the time in the world, I can properly worship every incredible inch.
I start with just my tongue, tracing that vein from base to tip, tasting salt and skin and pure masculine desire. Beau shifts in his sleep, a low groan rumbling from his chest, and I smile against his flesh.
That's it, mountain man. Feel what I'm doing to you.
I take the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the crown, humming at the delicious taste that washes over me.
And that's when he wakes up.
" Fuck ," he growls, his voice rough with sleep and surprise. His hand immediately tangles in my hair, not forcing, just... gripping. Holding on. "Molly, what are you— Christ ."
The sheets flick up and I look up at him through my lashes, his cock still between my smiling lips. The expression on his face makes me clench with need. His eyes are dark and wild, his jaw tight with the effort of staying in control.
I release my lips from around his cock with a hard 'pop' that makes him groan.
"Good morning to you too," I murmur against his skin, then take him back in my mouth, deeper now.
His hips buck involuntarily. "Fuck, baby. Your mouth..."
I love this. The power I have over this strong, capable man. The way his breathing becomes ragged as I work him with my tongue and lips. He's so thick I can barely fit him in my mouth, but I'm determined to take as much as I can.
"That's it," he breathes, his fingers guiding me gently. He curses to himself, like he can't believe he's waking up like this. I just continue swallowing him down, making him groan as he looks back down his hard abdomen to watch me. "Yes. Just like that. Take what you can handle."
But I want to handle all of him.
I relax my throat and push forward, taking him deeper until I can feel him hitting the back of my throat. The sensation makes my eyes water, but the broken sound he makes is worth every second of discomfort.
"Jesus, Molly. So fucking perfect."
His praise spurs me on.
I establish a rhythm, taking him deep then pulling back to lavish attention on the sensitive head with a roll of my wrist. My hand works what my mouth can't reach, and I can feel him getting closer with every pass of my tongue.
"I'm not going to last," he warns, his voice strained. "Not with those sexy eyes looking at me."
I hum around him, the vibration making him curse creatively, and that's when I feel his cock tense in my mouth. His grip in my hair tightens, his hips thrust up, and then he's coming with a shout that probably echoes across the entire mountain.
I swallow every drop, savoring the taste of him like it's the elixir of life itself.
Because maybe it is.
Maybe this is exactly what I've been missing all these years.
A man who doesn't feed on my power, but embraces it and worships it like it's something rare. Someone who doesn't try to dim my light to make his shine brighter, but instead stands beside me, his strong hands lifting me higher, encouraging me to burn even brighter.
In Beau's eyes, I don't see the calculation I grew used to with Riley.
Instead, I see a man who looks at my independence not as something to tame or break, but as something beautiful to protect and nurture.
When I finally release him, he's looking at me like I've just performed a miracle.
"Come here," he rasps, reaching for me.
But before I can crawl back up his body, an aggressive banging that echoes through the cabin erupts from the front door.
BANG BANG BANG.
We both freeze. Beau's eyes immediately go sharp and alert, his military training kicking in even in post-orgasmic bliss.
BANG BANG BANG.
"What the hell?" he mutters, already moving.
My first thought is pure, ice-cold terror: Riley . What if he found me? What if he tracked me down? What if—
BANG BANG BANG.
"Jesus Christ," Beau growls, rolling out of bed with the braveness of a man who's used to emergency situations.
He grabs a sheet and wraps it around his waist. Shit. Even in crisis mode, the man is ridiculously gorgeous. I can't help but stare at the way the fabric clings to his narrow hips and perfect ass.
"Stay here," he orders, but then seems to realize he's talking to me, not a soldier under his command. His voice softens and he reaches out to touch my leg gently. "Just... stay here, baby. Don't move until I see who it is, okay?"
I nod and he strides toward the front door. The bedroom door remains open enough so I can watch in fascination as he grabs a broom from the hallway closet on his way past.
A broom ?!
This man survived military combat, builds cabins with his bare hands, and rescues stranded families in blizzards, but when faced with an unknown threat, he arms himself with cleaning supplies.
I love him so much it physically hurts.
Wait. Did I just think—
"Molly!"
More loud banging cuts my thoughts off.
" MOLLY! I know you're in there!"
Relief floods through me so fast I nearly collapse. It's not Riley's voice.
It's Sienna's.
"Oh, thank God," I breathe, wrapping one of Beau's flannel shirts around myself. It hangs to my knees and smells like heaven, making me feel claimed and protected in all the best ways possible.
I hear the front door open, followed by my sister's familiar voice raised in full big-sister panic mode.
"What the HELL , Beau?! I've been worried sick! I couldn't sleep all night wondering if Molly was—" Her voice cuts off abruptly. "Oh. Oh my ."
I creep toward the living room, still wearing nothing but Beau's shirt, and find the most ridiculous scene I've ever witnessed.
Sienna stands in the doorway, mouth slightly open, staring at Beau who's clutching his sheet around his waist with one hand and still holding the broom with the other like he's ready to battle dust bunnies to the death.
But here's the thing about that sheet: it's not cooperating.
At all.
The fabric keeps slipping, forcing Beau to constantly readjust it, and the morning chill has done absolutely nothing to diminish his... enthusiasm from our earlier activities.
The sheet tents dramatically at his groin, creating a very obvious… and very impressive… outline that makes my sister's eyes go wide.
"Um," Sienna says, clearly trying not to stare at the circus happening below his waist. "Should I... come back later?"
"It's fine," Beau grunts, yanking the sheet higher, which only makes it slip lower on the other side, nearly exposing one perfectly sculpted hip. "We're... decent."
I snort with laughter. "We're really not."