Page 31 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)

I arch into him, pressing against his hips where his hard cock is now pinned between us.

He groans his approval, lathing his tongue across the turgid peak as his other hand slides down and finds the waistband of my sweatpants.

He toys with it, slowly dragging his fingers along the sensitive skin of my lower belly, making me spasm under him.

He releases my nipple and glances up at me as he moves to my other one. “I told you to be still.”

“That’s…not going to happen.”

It comes out breathy, desperate, not sounding like me at all, and a slow, lecherous grin spreads across his lips.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you, Honeybee.” He dips his head and slowly circles his tongue around my nipple, refusing to give it direct contact. “Maybe we should stop so I don’t risk it.”

I tunnel my hands into his thick blond hair and jerk on the long strands harshly. His eyes flare with an intense heat I know I’m going to feel burn me.

“Don’t you fucking stop, Killian McBride.”

This is all I’ve wanted besides answers since I first came back to the cabin.

Him.

Us.

Like this.

The way we used to be, all fire and passion, heat and desperation, the need for each other overpowering our good senses.

Because he’s probably right.

It’s probably too soon for my cracked ribs to handle whatever he has planned, but I can’t find myself caring as he slowly releases my nipple and sinks down lower, tugging my joggers and panties with him.

He pulls them off my feet and tosses them onto the floor, leaving me sprawled out naked in front of him.

Fully exposed in front of the man who has always made me feel like a queen.

Searing heat flickers through his gaze as it rakes over me.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more beautiful, but somehow you have. ”

Slowly, he reaches out and reverently trails his fingers over the almost-healed bruises that are turning an ugly color of yellow and green, with a few places still mottled spots of purple.

Many of the scrapes and scratches have healed, only the deeper cuts still visible.

He catalogs each one, bending down to feather his lips over them.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Another soft brush of lips. Warm breath fluttering over goosebumped, marred skin. “I promise to make whoever is responsible pay for what they did to you.”

And I know he will.

I trust him implicitly because, despite what he said to me, I know he didn’t mean it, that my flight from the mountain was temporary, that I was always coming back to him, no matter what.

He finally reaches the apex of my thighs and nudges them wider, brushing his thumb lightly over my slick core. I groan and fist my hands in his hair as he slowly lowers his head and buries his face between my legs.

Fuck.

My back arches as his tongue glides over me with intense focus and determination.

Heat curls low in my belly and spreads to every limb, every nerve ending, as he explores me as if he’s never been there before, as if he needs to relearn what to do and how I like it.

Like he could ever fail at this.

Killian always had a brutal mouth, as brutal as the hands he uses, both to cut down trees and to carve such beautiful creatures from them.

He brings pleasure and delicious pain. Torture and release.

He’s a man of juxtapositions. The way he lives his life, the type of person he is, and how he is with me in bed.

All of it mind-bending.

But somehow it’s all Killian.

And as he thrusts his tongue into me, all the air is sucked from my lungs.

He sets a slow, languid rhythm, licking and sucking and nipping but never giving me exactly what I want.

“Killian, please.”

He always loved to hear me beg.

Loved to have me like this, writhing and desperate underneath him.

Sometimes he would make me wait until I thought I might actually die from the need. But not tonight. His mouth settles over my clit— finally —and I release a massive sigh of relief before his tongue flicks over it, sending sharp bolts of electricity shooting through me.

His hands slide up my thigh, and he easily slips two fingers into me, spreading me wide and filling me.

“Oh, God.”

I clench around them as he curls them up and starts to drag them down in a come-hither motion that has me arching into him over and over again as his tongue slowly decimates me.

Killian may have seen himself as the villain in this story, but at his heart, he’s still my hero. Giving me exactly what I need. Rescuing me from whatever chases me in the night. Slaying my demons. Giving me home.

He’ll always keep me safe, like this, as long as we’re together.

As long as we don’t let anything come between us again.

He sucks my clit between his teeth and grazes them slowly across it, and that low heat blasts into an erupting volcano, my orgasm swirling and cresting, making me writhe on the bed beneath him as his strong body pins me down.

All my injuries are forgotten on the waves of pleasure I ride out as he continues to thrust his fingers and work his tongue and lips over me.

His groan of approval fills my ears, mixing with the rushing sound of my world melting away, carrying along with it every concern I had.

At least for now.