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Page 37 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)

KILLIAN

A familiar scent I never thought I would smell in the cabin again hits my nose the minute I open the bathroom door. My footsteps falter slightly as thirty years’ worth of memories slam into me.

Of Mom in that kitchen.

Of Willow with her.

Of the years they spent making my favorite dinner together.

Of sitting at that small table with Connor and Liam with full bellies and smiles on our faces.

I couldn’t bring myself to attempt it on my own when Willow was gone.

It never would’ve been right, never could have lived up to what they made because it was them doing it. I always thought the old belief that something tastes better when it’s made with love was foolish, until I tried the Wilson’s version at the diner.

While delicious…it was lacking something.

Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

It lacked this.

It wasn’t from home.

And the cabin finally feels like one again.

My mouth waters as I pad barefoot with a towel wrapped around my waist toward the smell and the gentle humming floating through the air.

Willow stands at the small kitchen counter, swaying her hips from side to side, my headphones in her ears, clearly enjoying whatever she’s listening to. I lean against the giant log support beam at the entrance to the room and watch her.

The smile tilting the corner of her lips.

How freely she moves to the music, unreserved by the cloud that has hung over her since her return.

For this moment—and maybe only this single one—she’s completely happy.

I’d like to believe that I had something to do with that. That finally clearing the air and coming together emotionally and physically somehow lifted some of the weight that was crushing her.

But I know it’s merely a fleeting blink of time.

As soon as she closes her eyes tonight, she’ll be haunted by the visions of things that could be nightmares or horrific memories.

Willow won’t ever truly get better, and I won’t really get her back fully, until we find answers for her. Yet, this moment gives me hope.

Hope for the future I thought I’d lost.

I push off the beam and sidle up behind her, sliding my arms around her waist.

She yelps slightly and turns toward me in my hold, pulling the earbuds out and setting them onto the counter. “Christ, you scared the crap out of me.”

My heart stops, my mood immediately shifting at the thought that I might have done something that could have put her back in that dark place instead of the bright one she was just in, but the smile pulling at her lips assures me she’s okay.

“I’m sorry”—I squeeze her gently—“but I couldn’t resist with you swaying your ass like that and looking so fucking beautiful.”

Her breath catches. “How long were you watching me?”

I don’t bother fighting a grin. “Long enough.” My growing cock presses against her. “It smells amazing in here.”

Her cheeks pinken with the most adorable blush. “I thought maybe you might want your mom’s cornbread, baked beans, and ham for dinner.”

My eyes burn, but I refuse to let the tears fall, even though they’re happy ones. I don’t want anything to threaten the light, happy mood we’ve managed to find in all this turmoil.

“You were right.” I bend down and brush my lips over her forehead, then work my way across her cheek to bury my face against her neck. “But after seeing you dancing like that in here, I’m hungry for something else.”

“Oh.”

Willow curls her hands onto my chest, nails biting into the inked skin in a very deliberate way.

She understands me perfectly, feels the tension in my body, the way my hard cock strains under the towel barely confining it.

I slide my hands down and easily lift her to the edge of the counter, pushing various cans and other ingredients out of the way.

Her light laughter fills the air between us, the sound so carefree and full of joy that those tears almost fall. I cage her in with one hand on either side of where she sits, and she takes my face in her palms, dragging her fingers through my beard.

Fuuuuck.

I groan at the sensation. “God, I’ve missed this.”

Tilting her head slightly, she examines me. “What?”

“ You being here in my house.” I kiss her softly. “Your scent.” Another brush of my lips. “The sound of your laughter and those little gasps you make when you come.” Another one—longer and deeper. “You touching me like this…”

She does it again, harder this time, and the low growl that rolls from my chest sounds more animal than human. My eyes drift closed as I relish the feel of her nails on my face, my neck, my chest.

My body trembles.

I open my eyes to find her watching me, waiting for me to do or say something, to make the move because she doesn’t like having to be in control.

She wants me to take it.

She needs me to.

Because everything in her life feels so out of it.

“How long until things have to come out of that oven?”

She glances back at the timer. “Twenty minutes.”

I issue another growl, sliding my hands from the counter up to her hips and squeezing, ensuring I’m low enough that I won’t tweak her still-healing ribs. “I don’t like being on the clock”—my lips drift over hers—“but I can make twenty minutes work.”

Those nails score across my chest, making my entire body shudder, and Willow laughs as I tug on the waistband of her leggings and slide them down her thighs, along with her thong.

I toss them to the side, not caring where they land, before I drop to my knees, drag her legs over my shoulders, and bury my face in my favorite place in the world.

Fuck, yes.

Of all the things I’ve missed, this is at the top of my list.

Giving her pleasure.

Making her come all over my tongue.

Feeling her fall apart and forget everything else in the world.

Something we both desperately need right now.

She gasps at the first contact of my tongue against her slick core, tunneling her hands through my hair, tugging on the strands sharply.

Fuuuuuck.

The taste of her arousal.

The sting on my scalp.

The way she leans back until her head and shoulders meet the wall behind her for leverage, giving me better access, allowing me to spread her even wider.

All of it is too much and not enough at the same time.

I glide my tongue through her wet heat, savoring the woman as if she’s my last meal, because she is. If I ever lose her again, I don’t know how I’d survive it. This is the only place I want to be every moment for the rest of my life.

Like this.

With her.

I could never get enough of this woman, not in the time we’ve already had together and not in the future. Every moment of my life is consumed by Willow, and I could feast on her all day, every day, and still feel like I was starving. Like it was never enough.

A low groan falls from her lips as I thrust my tongue as deep as I can inside her.

“Killian!”

She twines a clump of my hair around her hand, tugging to the side, trying to direct me where she wants me.

I chuckle against her wet flesh. “Tell me what you want, what you need.”

A shudder rolls through her.

Willow knows as well as I do that I don’t need direction. I can make her come hard and fast or do it slow and sweet until it’s practically torture for her. But I love to hear the words out of her mouth. Live to hear that she’s as desperate for me as I am for her.

Her thighs tremble on either side of my head, and I lift it and peer up at her. “Willow, look at me.”

She pulls away from the wall, and her eyes flutter open to meet mine, the steely gray there cloaked in a lusty haze.

“Tell.” I drag my tongue across her flesh. “Me.”

“I want…” She shifts restlessly, that red flush spreading up her neck and across her cheeks. “I want to come on your mouth and your fingers, and then I want your cock inside me.”

Fuck.

That’s the most direct response I’ve ever gotten from her, and I could come right now just hearing those words from her lips, ones I never thought I would experience again.

Worshipping her like this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what I’ve caused, and determination settles deep in my soul.

I will give this woman everything.

Starting right now.

I’ll give her something she’s never had before.

I pull my hand from her waist to slip a finger inside her, then another, spreading her wide. She moans, tightening around me, and I curl them deep, finding her G-spot.

A throaty groan falls from her parted lips, and she drops her head back to the wall again, clamping her cunt around my fingers.

I drag my calloused fingertips along her inner walls, concentrating on that perfect spot with each retreat of my hand.

My tongue slides up over her clit, and a needy mewl fills my ears as her hands tighten in my hair even more.

Her hips start to roll in time with my ministrations.

She unabashedly grinds against my face, seeking more while I work her up. Build her higher and higher. Tightening the coil inside her that will spring hard and fast before too long.

The scent of her soaked cunt quickly overpowers that of the food in the oven.

My entire world becomes centered between her legs as I feast on her, frantic to give her something explosive.

Her body finally starts to shake violently, her thighs tensing and tightening around my head. This woman could rip my damn fucking head off, and at least I’d die happy, knowing I made her come that hard in my final moments on this planet.

What a fucking way to go.

I pump my fingers into her, pulsing and dragging against her G-spot, flicking my tongue rapidly across her engorged clit until she finally detonates, squirting down my throat. A tidal wave of release that I swallow greedily, desperate for more.

Willow’s body pulses around my fingers as the orgasm crashes over her harder than any I’ve ever experienced with her.

Exactly what I wanted.

Complete ecstasy.

She gasps and sags back, pushing me away almost frantically. Her wide eyes lock on me, and trembling lips gape open on fluttered half-breaths. “Wh-what the fuck was that?”

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