Let Go #2
I lean down and kiss her again, deeper, rougher this time, my mouth communicating the desperation in my chest. Her hands fall to my shoulders as I release her hips.
My hands roam freely over her body, tracing the curve of her waist, kneading her breasts, and pinching her nipples until she’s shaking.
My hand slides back down between her legs, her skin slick and wet.
I resume the torturous friction, bringing her right back up to the edge of the cliff.
“Wrap your legs around me.” I press my hands against her hips, my voice dropping to a low, demanding growl.
She lifts one leg, locking her thigh around my hip to give me better access, her hips rolling against my hand in a silent, frantic plea.
“Both of them.”
She obeys, leaping slightly, her legs locking tightly around my waist. I scoop her up, holding her tight against my chest, her smaller frame fitting perfectly against mine.
Carrying her is effortless. The heat of her skin burns through the thin fabric of my shirt.
I carry her into my bed, pushing the heavy door shut behind us with my shoulder.
The room is dark, save for the cool, blue shadow of the winter sky reflecting off the snow outside. Atlas is a quiet, curled shadow in the corner, sleeping through the low hum of the generator.
I lay her down onto the mattress, the bed shifting under our weight. I step back, pulling my shirt over my head, and cast it aside into the dark.
In the shadows, she lies still on the mattress, her eyes wide. Her gaze traces the broad span of my shoulders and the heavy, scarred muscle of my chest.
“Do you like what you see?” I stand over her, letting her take me in, letting her see the damage.
“Yes.” She drags her eyes over my chest before dropping to my waist, her breathing shallow and uneven.
I move my fingers to the brass buckle of my belt, undoing it with deliberate slowness.
The heavy clink of metal is loud in the quiet room.
I pop the steel button of my jeans and slowly slide the zipper down, the sound sharp and suggestive.
Stripping the denim away, I step out of them, standing fully naked and unhurried at the edge of the mattress.
Her eyes drop instantly, widening in the dim light at the size of me, thick and fully aroused. A soft, involuntary gasp catches in her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she swallows, her body tensing on the mattress.
“Still like what you see?” I wrap my hand around my length, stroking myself slowly once, twice, under her steady gaze.
“Yes.” Her tongue-tip darts out to wet her dry lips, her gaze locked on the steady motion of my hand.
“Show me. Scoot your ass to the edge of the bed. Right here.” My hand tightens around my shaft, giving it a hard squeeze before I step closer to the edge of the mattress.
She hesitates for a split second, her eyes darting from my face down to my waist, before she crawls forward, her knees dragging against the sheet until her hips are aligned with the mattress edge.
I slide my fingers into her hair, tilting her head back to look up at me, my thumb brushing her lips. “Open for me, Bella. Let me feel you.”
Her breath catches, her lips parting as I rest the heavy, pulsing head against her cheek. She leans in, opening wide, and slides her lips over the crown. She gasps at the size of me, her throat constricting to accommodate the depth.
My hand cradles the back of her head, guiding her in a slow, gentle glide. “Fucking perfect. Bella...”
She whimpers around me, her hands gripping my thighs for balance as her tongue licks at the underside of my shaft.
The heat of her mouth is tight, almost too tight, making my head spin.
I thrust my hips forward slightly, driving deeper until she lets out a soft, breathy sound, her hands squeezing my quad muscles hard.
I pull back slowly, letting her breathe, my thumb wiping a wet trail of moisture from the corner of her lips. She gazes up, her eyes glazed, her chest heaving as she sucks in air.
“On your back, Bella. Let me see you.” I release her hair, guiding her back against the pillows.
I crawl over her, my large body pinning her down without crushing her. Our mouths meet, my hands sliding down to frame her face, then her neck.
She reaches down to touch my chest, her fingers tracing the scars on my ribs before sliding lower. Her small hand wraps around my shaft, stroking me with a tentative, burning touch that makes my jaw clench.
“Guide me in. Show me you want this.” I rest my weight on my palms beside her head as I align myself. The blunt, hot tip of my length presses against the heat of her. “Open up for me.”
Instead of driving in, I hold myself there, slowly easing forward just a fraction of an inch, stretching her, letting her accommodate the width of my shaft.
Her eyes widen in the dim light, her breath catching as she lies beneath me, her body tensing in surprise. Her silent, awed expression makes my blood run hot.
“Yeah, look at how much of me is going inside you.” My thumb strokes her hip, keeping her anchored as she adjusts to the depth. “Take it.”
I take my time, pushing in slow and steady, giving her a chance to stretch and accommodate the depth. She lets out a long, ragged gasp, her head tilting back into the pillow as her body slowly yields to the intrusion, taking me in, until I’m buried fully inside her.
My movements are slow, heavy, and deep, pressing my weight down as I sink into her. My chest slides against hers, the friction of our sweat-slicked skin burning between us.
“Do you like the way this feels?”
“Yes.” Her hips lift off the mattress, her fingers locking tightly around mine as she arches into the thrust. Her head thrashes on the pillow, her throat straining with a breathless cry. “Yes.”
My hands frame her face, my thumbs rubbing circles over her cheekbones, her face flushed beneath me. I draw back before driving deep again, buried to the hilt. Her eyes are wide and dark as she gasps for air.
I lean down and cover her mouth, swallowing her gasp as I begin to move in earnest. My tongue strokes hers, deep and demanding, setting a relentless tempo that matches the heavy, driving rhythm of my hips.
Every breath she takes is in sync with mine, her body moving beneath me, responsive to the depth of every thrust. She’s so incredibly tight, her body wrapping around me like a glove, squeezing me so perfectly it threatens to end me right here.
This is never where I thought things would land.
When she first showed up on my doorstep—small, shivering, and carrying a suitcase full of Jesse’s ghost—I wanted nothing more than to push her away.
I thought she was just another fragile thing from the city who would break under the weight of this mountain.
Now, she’s under me, consumed by my size and my strength, begging for more.
I don’t give a damn how this complicates things. I don’t care about Cascade, or Denver, or the fact that she’s supposed to leave when the pass opens.
None of it matters.
All I can think about, the only thing that exists in the entire world, is holding her while I move harder and faster. I want her branded with my touch.
“Wyatt…it feels…” She gasps and drags her nails down my back. “You feel so damn good. Faster please. Harder.”
The heat in the room rises, the air thick and heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. The slow, possessive strokes shift, the pace climbing as her breaths turn shallow and ragged.
She claw-marks my shoulders, her legs locking around my waist to pull me even deeper into her heat. I drive into her with a raw, demanding speed, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart.
“Yes! Oh my god, yes.” Her breath fills the air. “I’m going to…”
She shudders violently beneath me, her entire body tightening around mine in a fierce, clutching release as she gasps, her eyes rolling back.
The clench of her muscles shatters the last of my restraint. I drive hard, burying myself as deep as I can go. A low primal groan rips from my chest as the release tears through me, locking us together in the dark.
My heart hammers against her collarbone as our breathing slowly levels out in the deep quiet of the room.
I should stop. The last thing either of us needs is to dig this hole any deeper, to complicate the lines we’re going to have to redraw when the sun comes up.
But she’s in my bed, her skin burning against mine, and I don't give a single damn. This might be the only night we ever have, and I’m nowhere near done with her.
I roll her over, my hands heavy and demanding as I pull her onto her knees.
She doesn’t hesitate, her joints soft and cooperative under my touch, her eyes dilated in the blue shadows. I press my palm flat against her shoulder blades, pushing her chest down until her forehead is resting against the mattress and her hips are lifted high for me.
The eager way she takes my direction, her breath catching in breathless anticipation, sends a fresh surge of heat straight to my groin. I line myself up and slide back into her from behind, slow and deep.
She lets out a high, fractured cry, her fingers clutching at the bedsheets. I hold her hips, keeping the heavy, driving rhythm steady. We move like that for hours, each touch growing deeper, her soft whimpers answering the claim of our bodies coming together.
Eventually, the frantic pace gives way to a heavy and lazy heat. I roll onto my back, drawing her down beside me. Her small, pale hand traces the line of my collarbone, her fingertips dragging slowly over the hard muscle of my chest.
She surprises me when she doesn’t stop there. Her hand dips lower, her fingers dancing over the ridges of my abs, heading down toward my waist. My jaw tightens as she lifts her head from the pillow. She lets her mouth follow the path her hand just drew.
“Bella, love, even I have limits.”
“We’ll see about that.” She presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, then down to my belly, looking up at me with a slow, wicked grin in the dark.