Page 83 of Beneath the Mountain Sky

That I can do this to him—have him hard and wanting when I haven’t even touched him.

But something about tonight, being in this tent on a desolate part of the mountain, makes each stroke, each glide, each touch ten times more powerful.

He tilts his head and ghosts his lips over mine as he starts a slow, grinding rhythm with his thumb against my clit and his two thick, rough, calloused fingers thrusting in and out of me, curling deep inside and dragging along my G-spot with each retreat. “You know I dream about how you taste…”

“What?”

I let my eyes open to meet his and find absolute burning sincerity there.

The blue that shifts from warm and inviting to sharp and icy with his emotions now swirls like molten flame.

He nods, his tongue snaking out across his lips. “I still remember it vividly. Think about it every time I take my cock in my hand at night. I can’t wait to lick it off when I’m done touching you, once you’ve come all over my fingers.”

Fuck.

Killian. Fucking. McBride.

This man always had a way with words.

A skill to make me unravel in his arms so damn easily.

Other people are intimidated by his bluntness, by his aggressive and demanding nature.

But not me.

Never me.

He uses it to command me when we’re like this, and it’s exactly what I need. For him to take control, for him to pull away all the uncertainty that surrounds me.

In the beginning, it was the lack of stability in my life—Mom’s addiction issues, uncertainty about whether I had a safe place to land—that led me to the McBrides’ door and eventually Killian’s arms as a safe haven. Now, this mystery about why I left and where I’ve been has me lost. But his strong hands, commanding words, and the praise that lifts my heart also stir every fiber of my being and bring me home.

His lips move over mine, capturing another gasp as he increases his pace. “Are you going to be a good girl and come on my hand, Honeybee, so I can get a taste of that sweetness I crave?”

Fuck, yes.

That’s what I want.

What I need.

I whimper and nod, and he increases his pace as I grip his shirt in my fists, clinging to him like the lifeline he has become for me.

And not just in the last two weeks, but always.

My body starts to tremble uncontrollably, and not from the chilly air.

Each breath I take comes harsher.

Heat centers on where he moves his hand inside me.

I’m about to unravel.

And he knows it.

Killian grins against my lips, kissing me softly at each corner, then slowly flicking his tongue across them. “I want to hear you when you come. There’s no one else up here for countless miles. It’ll just be for me. So that I can hear it again, to have another memory that I can store away for when I need it.”

“Fuck…”

Is that what he’s been doing for the last year?