Chapter 34
Rory
I launch myself at Morgan and he catches me with a grunt, banding an arm around my waist and meeting my kiss with as much ferocity as I give him. He sits us up straighter as I climb into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing his hips with my knees.
The air is cooling but he’s like a furnace underneath me, his mouth hot and hard and taking long, slow pulls from mine. We’re drinking each other, much like we did with the beers, and I think, ha, best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.
My hands move from Morgan’s hair to his face, cupping his jaw and enjoying the bristle of his scruff against my palms. Morgan’s hands move under my shirt, spots of heat sweeping around until I’m pulled tight against him. I widen my legs and press our groins together.
We both moan.
“We’re alone up here, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, barely pulling his mouth away from mine. “You can be as loud as you want. As loud as I’m going to make you.”
My belly flips and we resume kissing. I grind against his erection, my rocking building more and more until I run out of room and push Morgan down onto the blanket. He goes willingly, eyes sparkling up at me. “Please tell me you want to sit on my face again.”
“I had other things in mind.” I brace myself over him and kiss him again.
“Oh?” he says between kisses.
“Yeah. I have a condom.”
He laughs and I accidentally kiss his teeth. “I do too. We can do both things.”
I move down his body, since I’m on top. We pull the Henley over his head, giving me access to the smooth expanse of his chest. I kiss the tattoos, enjoying the way his chest rises and falls with every hitch of his breath.
“Rory . . .” he mutters when I get to his belt and start to undo it. I pull and he lifts his hips and the moment his clothes are down far enough I suck the head of his cock into my mouth. “Jesus. Fuck!”
My hair has fallen over my face and Morgan scoops it up into a fist and holds it lightly back so he can see. I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock and glance up at him. He’s wild-eyed, teeth gritted and muscles rippling.
“We can do both things,” he repeats, chest heaving. “But not all things, Rory.”
I pull my mouth off his cock with a pop. “Just a bit more.”
He groans and his head falls back. I suck him in again, taking him as deep as I can over and over. His thighs tighten under my palms and his legs squirm. The taste of precum floods my mouth and his hand tightens in my hair.
“Rory, please, fuck stop, oh god.”
I pull off and the hand that was gripping my hair shifts to squeeze his cock head. Morgan’s knees bend, his body curling up to try to stave off the orgasm I teased. He mutters a few more curse words, and then it’s “Rory, please get on my face.”
I oblige, stripping off my clothes and crawling naked up his body to his eagerly waiting mouth. He pulls me down hard and knowing what he can take, I sink onto him.
It doesn’t take long for me to grind against him, riding his tongue until an orgasm barrels up my body from my toes to my head, escaping in a near scream while I pulse and shudder over him. I fall back to sit on his chest and catch my breath.
Morgan grabs a napkin, wiping his mouth, and then grabs his jeans, fishing a condom out of the wallet. His hands disappear behind me and I hear the rip of the packet and watch Morgan’s hooded eyes while he rolls the condom on.
Wordlessly, he touches my waist and I rise up, centering myself on him and slowly lowering. We both pause when I bottom out, the stretch and depth hitting me just right. Through half-lidded eyes, I watch Morgan’s tortured gaze stare up at the sky while he fights for control.
“God damn it,” he says, breaking and laughing at himself. “This is not going to last long. You’ll probably set me off if you come.”
“I really want you to make me come again.”
“Fuck yeah.” Morgan sucks a thumb into his mouth and presses it to my clit, shooting fireworks up my body. My hands scramble to find purchase, one landing on his bent knee behind me, the other on his chest. “God, Rory, you are so beautiful.”
I close my eyes and throw my head back, grinding myself on his cock.
His thumb circles my clit over and over again.
This orgasm takes me longer, and the noises Morgan makes sound like I’m killing him.
The ache builds and I can feel it approaching.
I lean back and open my eyes, meeting Morgan’s gaze.
“I’m getting close,” I gasp, and the words themselves spur me on even more.
Morgan licks his other thumb and switches, and the renewed pressure takes me over the edge. My toes curl and my orgasm shakes through me. Morgan’s hips grind with me as he pulses inside me. We’re both panting, and when I lift my hand off his chest to brush my hair away from my face, it’s shaking.
Morgan cracks an eye open, and then stretches his arms out to me. I ease myself down onto his chest. We’re both sweaty, but it’s cooling quickly in the autumn breeze, and the sun’s almost gone. It’s going to get cold fast.
I’m too satiated to do anything about that yet. Morgan feels too good. He smells good too, and I press my nose against his skin, against the wings tattooed on his pec. I bet—
“Did you just bite me?” he asks, voice filled with laughter.
I bite him again, this time holding it. “Wha?” I ask, my voice completely muffled. “Ew tast gud.”
“I taste good?” His chest bounces, and I let go, resting my chin on his sternum. Morgan’s got one arm wrapped around me, the other behind his head. “You can bite me anytime, my little vampire queen.”
I laugh, and this time it pushes his softening cock out of me. We reluctantly sit up and clean ourselves, Morgan putting the used condom into the empty chip bag. He lies back down but I take a moment to admire the view—of Morgan, yes, but also the valley.
It’s beautiful, and I liked hearing the lore of this place, but that’s all it is—lore. I don’t believe that there’s a song, I don’t feel anything pulling me to the valley like Morgan does.
Despite the slogan, I don’t belong here, even if I am fucking my fake fiancé.
I lie back down on the blanket and Morgan trails a hand up my already-goose-bumped skin.
“Getting cold?”
I nod.
“Cold enough that you want to go?”
I shake my head. “We still have another condom,” I point out.
He bends his head and kisses my hip. “That would help us stay warm.” He shifts and pulls his jeans up and buttons them. Then he reaches for his shirt and I frown in disappointment until he hands it to me. “Here, put this on.”
I pull the Henley on and lie back down. Morgan’s eyes run appreciatively over my half-naked body, and then his hand follows the path, coming to rest between my legs. I’m still slick and swollen, and he traces my lips up to my clit and back down the other side, making my head fall back.
“What do you aim for, a two-to-one ratio?” I tease.
“I can absolutely make you come two more times before me.”
“That makes you an anomaly among men,” I say, breath catching when he circles my clit. His eyes are watching his fingers. “You’d be shocked how many guys I’ve been with who’ve considered the night over without even one orgasm for me.”
“I would not be shocked. I was one of those guys back in my youth. Mostly because I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing in the beginning, just too eager to get my rocks off.”
I snort at the euphemism, and Morgan retaliates with a hard circle on my clit before he backs off.
“Being a bartender in a small ski town has its perks,” he continues. He glances up to meet my gaze. “Do you want to hear this? Or would you prefer not to know about my past?”
“Tell me.” I don’t even hesitate. I want to know what made Morgan who he is.
“Well, back when I was a young hotshot,” he says, in a mocking tone, “I happened to take a woman home from the bar who was maybe a decade older than me. I finished and she looked at me and said, ‘That’s it?’ and boy, if that isn’t a hit to a man’s ego.”
I shift my hips. Morgan’s light touch on my body is building me up in this achingly slow torture. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile and he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“No one had ever complained, but now I realize that most women don’t realize they should complain.
The bar for guys is so fucking low. So I made it my mission to single-handedly tackle the orgasm gap.
” He chuckles, and it’s self-deprecating.
Then his eyes twinkle. “That and I really fucking like eating pussy.”
I close my eyes and tilt my head back. Even through the building haze of an impending orgasm, I can see it.
Morgan’s so desperate to be loved, to be wanted.
It shows in the way he charms everyone, even the most difficult people, like my grandmother.
It’s how he broke through my defenses, even when I didn’t want to let anyone in.
“I’m not going to complain about your sex-god origin story,” I gasp out, and he laughs.
I feel the blanket beneath me tug and then Morgan’s warm breath on my neck as he kisses the hollow.
His thumb replaces his fingers and he circles my entrance.
I spread my legs even farther and he pushes in.
His pinkie and pointer slide down the seam of my legs while his middle two fingers curl inside me.
“I love the way you move,” he says into my skin. “The way you ride my cock, my tongue. The way you’re riding my hand.”
Before it was teasing, now he’s determined.
He finds just the right spot inside me, driving me wild from both sides.
When my hips rise up, his other arm snakes behind me, keeping me lifted.
He moves his whole hand, thumb against my clit, fingers fucking into me.
It’s rough and aggressive and it drives me right up and over the edge until I’m crying out and clamping down on his hand. He doesn’t stop until I push him away.
Morgan disappears, and I swipe the back of my hand over my forehead, wiping away the sheen of sweat.
The sky is a deep indigo now, the first stars popping out above us.
There’s the crinkle of the condom wrapper and then Morgan’s back, easing inside me, and this time is slow and steady, Morgan holding himself above me, kissing me, until the sky is full of stars and we’re both completely spent.