Page 38 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)
“Fucking incredible, that’s what that was.” I grin at her as I lick her inner thighs clean. “You squirted.”
“I what ?”
I raise a brow at her.
Her dark eyes sweep over me with so much confusion, still glazed over from the release she never saw coming. “I’ve never…”
“I know.” I glide my tongue across my lips, savoring every last drop. “That was hot as fuck. You think you can do it again?”
Willow’s cheeks and face redden even more. “I don’t…I don’t know.”
God, her confusion and embarrassment are adorable.
And I’d love to keep my face buried between her thighs to see if she can do it again.
But she reaches for me, urging me to stand between her parted thighs.
Staring up at me, spread wide across my kitchen counter, thoroughly ravished, she’s never looked more beautiful.
She reaches for the towel and gives it a gentle tug, letting it fall to the floor. My gaze follows her hand as it wraps around my hard cock and guides me to her slick core.
I’m fucking done for.
* * *
WILLOW
My legs tremble.
My lungs seize.
My heart beats wildly under my ribs.
But the dull ache there is barely even noticeable anymore.
After what Killian just did to me, I’m not sure I can feel anything the same way again. Because that was life-altering. World-changing in a way I never knew something like an orgasm could be.
It’s always been electric between us. Hot. Heavy. Sometimes downright aggressive. It’s the way I’ve always liked him—unleashed. Unrestricted by the expectations and things in life that try to keep him restrained.
That’s what I need now, too.
For this man to take me away from everything .
He towers over me, long, wet hair hanging over his shoulders, lips still glistening from within his beard from whatever the hell that just was that he wrung out of me.
Through my lust-fogged brain, I try to focus on him, but everything’s fuzzy, surrounded by this glowy haze of pleasure still making my body twitch and limbs tingle.
Killian takes my face in one hand and leans in, dragging me to him so he can crush his mouth to mine in a soul-searing kiss that screams, mine, mine, mine .
I am his.
He’s always been possessive, protective, demanding the things even I didn’t know I needed until he gave them to me.
Just like he’s doing now.
He’s giving me life.
I loop my arms around his neck, clinging to him and his strength. A strangled groan slips from his lips, and he pushes into me with one hard thrust, rocking me back slightly from the edge of the counter. I gasp into his mouth, drawing his breath into my lungs.
His tongue tangles with mine, thrusting the same way his hips do as he draws back and plunges into me again.
And fuuuuuck is it good.
All-consuming.
A taking.
A claiming.
Until he suddenly stills his hips and tugs his head away from mine, scanning my face. “You tell me if I’m hurting you…”
His cock stretches me so full, fits so perfectly, that it’s impossible to tell where he ends and I begin.
I nod, knowing I won’t tell him. Knowing that even if he does hurt me, it would be the good kind of pain, the kind that makes me feel alive, not the kind that makes me crawl back into that bed and sob like I have so many times since I returned.
He plunges deep, hitting that perfect spot inside of me that did absolutely unholy things only a few moments ago. I clutch his neck, trying to draw him closer, even though it’s physically impossible, like my body still knows how long I went without him and doesn’t want to risk it happening again.
But it won’t.
Not again.
Neither of us will make those mistakes again.
We won’t risk losing this.
He lowers his forehead to mine as he sets a slow tempo of long, hard strokes that allow me to feel every fucking inch of him on each drive of his hips. A languid build just so he can shatter me again.
And it’s utterly divine.
Delicious torture.
Until he pulls back and lifts my left leg, pressing it up against his chest to give him a different angle, allowing him to plunge even deeper, and it feels like my soul is leaving my body with each thrust.
Every roll of his hips along my clit sends blinding electric shocks through me that fry my brain and make it impossible to do anything but just feel .
“Oh, God.”
I slide my hands to the edge of the counter for purchase, trying to keep myself steady during his more aggressive movements.
My body heats again quickly, that slow burn that he’s so good at building up already lit, but it won’t ignite, no matter how hard he drives into me, no matter how deep he goes, no matter how good he is, I need more.
But I don’t need to say a word for him to know it.
It only takes a few seconds before his hand slides up around my neck.
God, yes.
He closes those rough fingers around my throat, squeezing gently.
That grip.
The feel of his hand there.
That possessive hold on my throat.
Knowing that he is in control of everything finally allows me to float away, to find my second release.
I come on a strangled cry, my throat working against his palm.
“Fuck, yes.” His growl in my ear reverberates through my chest as he redoubles his efforts, fucking me even harder through my orgasm, drawing it out with his free hand between us, his thumb on my clit, rolling across it as he continues to pump into me.
Each thrust cements him deeper, re-solidifies that bond we finally found again, the one that was always there, but that I somehow forgot.
Never again.
My eyes flutter open to meet his, and he stares down at me, his mouth slightly open, his breath ragged as he plows into my cunt.
He grits his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticcing as he fights his own release. “I want you to come again for me.”
“Wh-what?” My head swims, barely coming down from the last one. “I’ve already come twice. There’s no way.”
I can’t.
My body already feels wrung out.
Decimated.
Ready to collapse into a pool of post-orgasmic, boneless sleep.
He adjusts his grip on my neck and tightens it. “You’re going to come again before I do.”
Fuck, he can’t be serious.
“I-I don’t think I can.”
“You will.”
He pulls out of me so abruptly that I gasp, then releases my leg, drags me off the counter, whips me around, and bends me down over it. My chest presses into the butcher block as he draws my hips up and back to position me how he wants me.
Warm breath flutters across my cheek as he settles his rock-hard chest to my back, tilting my head to the side until my gaze meets his. He grips his cock, aligning it with me again, and pushes in.
I groan, all the air rushing from my lungs at the feel of him this way.
In this position, he’s so much bigger.
Not just his cock.
ALL of him.
He’s all over me.
Completely enveloping me with his body. His breath. His scent. His touch.
His love.
It’s exactly what I need.
What I’ve always needed.
A safe haven.
A home.
And he is it.
He stills, seated fully inside me and groans—that rumble against my back, pinning me even harder in between him and the counter. “You are going to come again for me, Honeybee. I need to feel this pretty cunt of yours squeezing my cock. One. More. Time. And then, maybe, I’ll devour you again after.”
I whimper.
The thought of another orgasm like that is far too much to bear in this moment.
He drags his hips back and plunges deep again, slamming the front of my hips against the counter, but I don’t even care.
I can’t when it feels like he’s completing me.
Like he’s filling some massive void that’s been there since the moment I got back.
He pumps into me again and again, then wraps his hand around the front of me and finds my clit, rolling and pinching it until my legs are trembling so hard that the only thing keeping me upright is his large, hard body pinning me down. “Are you ready to come again?”
I shake my head.
No.
I can’t.
I can’t.
That low tingling between my legs, the delicious burn that always signals my impending release, seems to suggest otherwise, but I already feel like I’m going to collapse.
One more might kill me.
Killian chuckles low. “Yes, you are. Don’t lie to me.”
I don’t want to.
“Y-y-yes.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He twists my clit as he drags the head of his cock against that perfect spot inside me…
And I erupt again.
Just as he roars in my ear.
Killian comes hard, deep inside me, pumping into me three more times before he finally stills and collapses on top of me.
The heavy pressure of him pushing me down should feel suffocating, but it’s like a comforting, soft blanket.
Darkness encroaches around the edges of my vision, but it’s a warm, friendly one, not the scary, treacherous one I’ve been living under for weeks.
His lips find my ear, then my neck. He kisses his way to my mouth, ghosting his over mine. “I fucking love you, Honeybee.”
I open my mouth to respond, to tell him I love him, too, to explain how much he means to me, but I can’t form words.
We remain pinned together for several moments, each of us trying to catch our breath and come back to the world around us.
The buzz of the timer going off finally jerks both of us upright, and Killian laughs, holding me in his strong arms. His cock, still embedded deeply inside me, twitches, and I clench around it, eliciting another groan from the man who can so easily destroy me as he puts me back together.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, allowing my head to drop against his chest.
He tilts my face up to him. “Are you sure?”
I manage to bob my head again, and he drops another kiss to my forehead before he slowly releases me. Tightly gripped fingers around the edge of the counter keep my legs from giving out as he slips from me and reaches down to grab the towel.
He uses it to wipe between my thighs gently, grabs my clothes, and brings them over to me. “Get dressed. I’ll get the food out of the oven.”
“Okay.”
I barely manage to get the word out around my labored breaths.
Killian grabs the oven mitt, pulls open the door, and removes the cornbread, ham, and baked beans, setting them on top of the stove as I slide back into my underwear and pants. As I get them up, he turns to face me in all his full glory, naked as the day God made him.
My eyes roam over the tattoos, including the new ones I love so much, but my gaze catches on the mountain that covers his chest. I’ve traced it so many times over the years, know every peak and valley of it by heart just as Killian does McBride Mountain itself.
Another memory flashes through my head.
A more recent one…
Earlier today.
“Wait—”
His brow furrows. “What is it?”
I step closer to him and drag my finger across the tallest peak, then drag it down the river and to where the cabin we’re in now stands on the McBride homestead. “I think I might know how to figure out where I was.”
He slides his hand under my chin, lifting it until I meet his concerned gaze. “How, Honeybee?”
It won’t make any sense to him. It barely does to me, but somehow, I know it’s what we need to do.
“We can’t go to Asheville to see the psychiatrist, Killian. We have to do it at the timber yard.”