Page 11 of Fall Wedding With the Mountain Man (Ozark Mountain Men Falling For Love #2)

Elizabeth

The man was trying to tempt me.

And unfortunately, it was working.

He was kicked back on their bed like he owned the place, ankles crossed, one muscular arm tucked behind his head. And he looked mouthwatering good.

Hudson Woods was a tasty snack, and I wanted just one bite. Needed just one bite.

Should I?

Hell no.

Would I?

Shelby and Thatcher weren’t coming back here tonight; they were going straight to a honeymoon suite in Fernwood after the Fall Festival, and tomorrow they’d leave on their flight.

And Shelby had already given me the green light. She’d even gone so far as to encourage me. She was the real devil here. I wouldn’t be considering this seriously if she hadn’t nudged me in his direction.

Oh, who was I kidding? I’d known since the minute I laid eyes on him that I wanted to ride Hudson into the sunset.

Not that I’d fuck him in their bed. A woman had to have limits.

But she’d set me up in their spare bedroom. It’s where I would have been staying if I’d arrived on time two days ago, like we’d planned. And it was where I’d be spending the night tonight, before leaving tomorrow morning.

My gaze drifted down, taking him in.

He was a tall drink of water and solidly built. The muscles of his chest filled out his flannel shirt nicely, and jeans on a man had never looked so good.

In a voice that didn’t sound like my own, I asked, “How would you relax me?”

He rumbled, “You really want to know?”

I was feeling reckless, so I said, “Yeah. Why not?”

His lips parted in a smile, hunger evident in his eyes. “It’s crass. You sure you want to hear it?”

Something hot that felt like molten lava rolled through me. I flirted back, “Now I have to know.”

He rumbled out a laugh. “All right, I’d bend you over that dresser and hike your pretty dress up over your big ass. Then I’d fuck the hell out of you until you screamed my name. After that, I’d take you to the Fall Festival and buy you a caramel apple.”

I started laughing. The man was insane. And bold.

Confidence rolled off him in waves. He didn’t look anything like a New Yorker. And I suddenly had to find out what the difference was between a man like him and one of them.

“I’m only here for one night,” I said as my nipples firmed into tight little buds.

“Yeah. That part sucks. I don’t really like one-night stands. But I’d be willing to make an exception for you, Elizabeth.”

His sudden use of my proper name after calling me Lizzy all night long jolted something inside me.

I felt like he saw me. He really saw me.

And I suddenly wanted to be seen.

A flash of heat flew between us, sizzling the air in the bedroom.

Was I going to do this? Really going to do this?

It was reckless. And immature. And wickedly exciting.

But the decision had been made hours ago. There was nothing to decide.

My voice was dry as I said, “Not in here, though. The guest room.”

Hudson’s eyebrows notched upwards, and I got the feeling he hadn’t expected me to take him up on his offer.

But he was right. It had been entirely too long since a man had given me an orgasm.

And I hadn’t been this attracted to anyone in years. Not since college.

He gingerly picked up the kitten and put her down on the bed, then rose to his feet.

I looked between the kitten and the two dogs. “Will she be safe in here with them?”

“Are you kidding? Both these dogs are totally in love with this kitten. They might lick her to death, but they won’t hurt her.”

Then he closed the distance between us, gently pushed me up against the wall, and gave me a kiss that I would never forget.

All of a sudden my world was Hudson, Hudson and more Hudson.

I absorbed his scent, his taste, his feel, his touch.

Our tongues tangled together, and all the heat that had passed between us today finally let loose. His lips fit mine perfectly, and he took charge. I let myself fall under his spell, submitting to him as he ground his hips against mine.

He was all man. A thousand percent man.

Hudson picked me up and started to carry me to the dresser, but I said, “Not in here. My room.”

He grunted an affirmation, then picked me up and carried me to the guest bedroom.

Once we were there, he spun me around until I was facing the dresser, our forms highlighted back to us in the dresser mirror.

“It pains me to say this,” he rumbled in a sexy drawl, “but we should be quick. We don’t want to miss the festival.”

He hiked up the hem of my gown, then drifted my panties down off my hips, sucking in a breath when he got them off.

This is insane.

But that didn’t mean I was going to stop him. I was ready for him, my pussy dripping wet.

He met my eyes in the mirror as he unzipped his jeans and stepped forward, mounting me from behind.

We were two strangers, taking what we wanted.

Fuck society. Fuck propriety. All I wanted was him.

Hudson’s scent rolled over me—wood smoke and spice—as I felt the tip of his cock connect with me.

Then he plunged in.

No waiting, no planning, no warning.

I squeaked as he filled me up. The man was huge … and hungry.

Hudson grunted out as we connected, his cock buried deep inside me.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Elizabeth.”

He rammed into me, shaking the dresser, then rammed again, setting up a steady rhythm with his cock.

His arms wrapped around me, squeezing my breasts as he fucked me hard.

This was happening. This was really happening.

My pussy sang a song of rejoice, as though rain was finally falling on its parched lands.

I cried out as I held on to the dresser, incapable of keeping my voice down, grateful that we were alone in this house.

Hudson watched my face in the mirror the entire time he fucked me, and I lost myself in him. Our eyes were connected, along with our bodies, intensifying the moment a thousand-fold.

And it made me realize that most of the flings I’d had in New York weren’t about me . Any woman could have filled the role. Those men had never looked me in the eye like Hudson did.

With him, I could tell this was about me . That he was as attracted to me as I was to him. The man was hot enough that he could have chosen anyone he wanted. And the fact that he chose me made me feel like a real princess.

Tonight, I was the prize. Me .

The look on his face was intense, fiery eyes piercing mine, his jaw set tight in hunger, his mouth parted as he lost control of himself and took me harder, harder, harder.

I was crying out in a staccato rhythm now as the dresser rocked and shook. This was what I’d needed, a strong mountain cock inside me reminding me what it was like to lose control and submit.

Hudson took me rough and fast. There was no time for anything more.

He swept my hair to the side, and found my neck, biting down on it. Hard enough, but not too hard.

That and his hand reaching around the front of me, rubbing my clit, drove me right over the edge.

And then I was voiceless, floating, as the heavens parted and angels sang to me. The man gave me an orgasm of biblical proportions.

Moments later he joined me, growling out as his hot seed filled me, his cock pulsing as he came.

My heart hammered in my chest while I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

I’d just fucked the porta-potty guy. And now I was ready to be like Shelby and drop everything in my life for another sample of his cock.

I now understood how Shelby had fallen for Thatcher.

And I felt like an ass for the things I’d said about him.

I must have seemed so shallow to her, stuck on the fact that she was marrying a trashman.

Whatever Hudson had just done to me had fucked some sense back into my head for the first time in years. Could a man do that? Fuck your priorities straight?

“I really needed that,” I whispered. My hands were still clutching the edge of the dresser like I might fall over where I stood.

We were both sweaty, shattered and breathless as he slid himself back out of me, his eyes hooded and trained on mine.

“What did you think of that, Elizabeth? Did I do you right? You feel any more relaxed?”

I started laughing, an out-of-control sound.

Then I stammered, “You know how to fuck.”

He growled in my ear, a low, throaty sound. “Yes, ma’am, that’s one thing I know how to do.”

Then he slapped me on the ass and said, “Put on your jeans, woman. We’ve got to get to the festival before Thatcher and Shelby leave.”