Page 6 of Mountain Daddy (Broken Boss Daddies #1)

NIKOLAI

I slam back the scotch.

I wonder if she’ll come.

If she changed her mind.

If she decided to run.

She’d be smart. To run, that is. That would mean the girl knows trouble when she sees it.

And still, I want caution to fucking run right out of her brain.

I want—no, need—her.

I still remember Viktor’s filthy hand reaching for her. His foul words. But when I broke his nose, I saw something in her eyes, beyond the fear.

Something that lit a fuse in my blood and set it on fire.

Awe.

Like she knew what I’d done.

Like she felt relief at being mine.

There’s a knock that sets my heart racing. Could it be…?

I open the door and there she is.

Hair down. Different clothes—jeans that hug her curves and a T-shirt that should be innocent but isn't.

Not on her.

Not when I know what's underneath. Not when I can still taste her on my tongue from a week ago.

“You came,” I say.

“I said I would.” Her hands are shaking slightly.

I step aside, and she brushes past me. The scent of her perfume turns me into a feral lion, wanting to shed off her clothes and bend her over right here.

I close the door. Lock it. I turn and she’s staring right at me, standing in my living room.

“So,” I ask, inching closer. “Still think this is a bad idea?”

“After what I saw downstairs?” She shakes her head. “I don't think so at all.”

The admission hangs in the air like a lit fuse.

“What I saw,” I say, moving closer, “was you having second thoughts.”

“What I saw,” she counters, “was you nearly killing a man because he touched my arm.”

Another step. She doesn't back away.

“He did more than touch your arm, Lilly. He looked at you like you were something he could play with.”

“And you looked at him like you wanted to bury him alive.”

“I did want to bury him alive.”

Her breath hitches. “Why?”

I'm close enough now to see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. Close enough to count her eyelashes. Close enough to make her pulse jump in her throat.

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

The challenge in her voice sets something primal loose inside me. Something I've been trying to cage since she walked out of here a week ago.

“Because you're mine.”

The words come out rough. Raw. More honest than I intended.

Her eyes flash. “I'm not anyone's?—”

I cut her off with my mouth.

The kiss is not an exploration. It’s an explosion.

Desperate. Hungry.

Seven days of wanting her, of thinking about her taste, her sounds, the way she felt wrapped around me can make a man go insane.

I groan into her mouth, swipe a hand through her hair, and tug. I lick across the slit of her lips.

And she opens. Like she’s made for me.

She makes a small noise in her throat when my lips brush against hers. Her fists twist in my shirt, yanking me closer, and that’s it. I’m gone. Wrecked. Owned.

I back her against the wall, pressing my body against hers, letting her feel how hard I am already. How much I want her. Always want her.

“Fuck,” she breathes against my lips. “I tried to forget?—”

“Did it work?”

“No.” Her hands are already working at my buttons. “Did you think about me?”

“Every goddamn day.”

Her fingers find skin and I hiss. She's got small hands but they're everywhere—my chest, my shoulders, tracing the tattoos that wind up my arms.

She grabs my shirt and yanks. A button she left unchecked rips.

“Jesus, Lilly.”

I yank her T-shirt over her head, and fuck me… she’s in black lace. Tiny, wicked, see-through. The kind of bra that makes my mouth water and cock throb.

Definitely not a bra she wore for comfort.

“Had plans, did you?” I murmur, dragging my thumb along the lace.

“Maybe.” She's breathless, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Maybe I hoped you’d rip it off with your teeth.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

I don’t reach for the clasp.

I dip my head, grip the center of that sinful lace in my teeth—and tear. The sound, the graze of my teeth, is enough to make her gasp.

I shed off the pitiful remains and cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they peak.

“Nikolai,” she gasps, arching into my touch.

“I love the way you say my name.”

Her hands fumble at my belt. Impatient. Desperate. I help her—shoving my pants and boxers down in one move. When I stand, she’s staring. Wide-eyed. Silent. Wrecked already.

“God,” she whispers. “I forgot how...”

“How what?”

“Big.” Her tongue wets her lips and my cock jumps. “You're so fucking big.”

Holy Hell.

She's sinking to her knees.

She’s bare from the waist up, eyes locked on mine, my cock inches from her mouth.

That look—wide-eyed, hungry, fucking perfect—nearly undoes me right there. One breath from her and I’d come like a rookie.

“Lilly—”

She wraps her hand around the base of my cock and strokes—once, twice, slow. Pre-cum beads at the tip. She leans in and licks it off like it’s dessert.

“Fuck,” I groan, head falling back against the wall.

She smiles—actually smiles—and then takes me into her mouth.

Hot.

Wet.

Perfect.

She starts slow, just the head, swirling her tongue around the crown. Then she takes me deeper, cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

“That's it,” I breathe, threading my fingers through her hair. “Just like that.”

She moans around me, sending shockwaves through my system. Her head bobs. I go deeper and deeper and deeper. Until I hit the back of her throat and see stars.

“Such a good girl,” I groan and she whimpers. “You like that? Like being on your knees for me?”

She nods with my cock in her mouth, eyes watering. They never stray from mine.

I watch, mesmerized. Her lips stretched around my girth, the way her throat contracts when she swallows.

It's too much. Too perfect. I'm going to come down her throat if I don't stop her soon.

“Enough,” I say, gently pulling her off me.

She releases me with a wet pop, lips swollen and slick, a question in her eyes.

This woman has no idea she could ruin kings with that mouth aimed right.

I help her to her feet, backing her against the wall again. “I want to be inside you when I come.”

Her jeans and panties hit the floor, joining the growing mess we’re making. I grab her ass, lift her easily—she wraps her legs around my waist, her pussy dripping against my cock already.

I carry her to the bedroom, her mouth on my neck, teeth grazing skin. She’s making these soft, desperate sounds—half moans, half whimpers. Fuck.

I set her on the edge of the bed and she immediately reaches for me. I catch her wrists.

“Lie back.”

She obeys. I position myself between her thighs. She's already wet, slick with arousal, and when I slide just the tip inside her, she arches off the bed.

“Please,” she whispers.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

I push in slowly, watching her face as I stretch her. Her mouth falls open, eyes fluttering closed. When I'm fully seated, we both freeze.

“Look at me,” I command.

Her eyes snap open, dark and dazed.

“How do you want it?”

“Hard,” she whimpers.

Something primal and possessive roars to life in my chest.

I start moving then, slow and deep at first. Building the tension just until her hands fist into the sheets.

And then, she throws her head back like a vixen, her fists clenching sheets and I begin to pound.

She’s wet. Soaking. Warm. My cock feels the softness of her clenching muscles.

I pick up the pace.

She draws me deeper. Her breaths now ragged. Her breasts bounce from how hard I slam into her.

“Harder,” she gasps. “Please, harder.”

God. She wants more. She’s insatiable. A beast. And I’m here to serve.

I grab her wrists, pinning them above her head. I fuck her without mercy. Her breasts bounce, like little clouds and I dip low. Suck hard. Swirl my tongue around the peak.

She cries out my name and it sounds like scandal beckoning. Hoarse. Broken. Sexy.

“Fuck, Lilly, the things you do to me,” I growl and my pace increases, each thrust driving her further up the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” I growl against her ear. “To be fucked like this? To be claimed?”

“Yes,” she sobs. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Her moans turn to screams, and I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing her sounds. I angle my cock deeper, hitting the inside of her clit.

She tenses, her muscles clenching. My cock hardens, lengthens until there’s no more to give.

She bites my lip. Draws blood. I growl into her mouth. Bite into her lip.

Her nails rake down my back, leaving stinging trails. Good. I want her marks on me.

She’s mine.

And though she won’t say, those marks scream I’m hers.

I can feel her tightening around me, getting close. Her breathing becomes ragged, desperate little sounds escaping her throat.

“Come for me,” I demand, shifting the angle to hit that spot that makes her scream. “Come on my cock like a good little girl.”

And then, she comes.

She comes like the storm. Fierce. Her body writhes and twists into a thing of beauty. I feel her pleasure like it’s mine.

And when she closes her eyes, bites into her lip to stay tethered, I know I can’t hold back much longer.

But I'm not ready to let go yet. Not until I've wrung every last drop of ecstasy from her body.

She shatters, back arching, nails digging into my shoulders as I release her wrists. She comes, wave after wave and only when her back hits the bed, do I give in.

For a brief moment. There’s darkness and fire and ecstasy. There’s her. Nothing else. My sight implodes. I see stars. The pleasure sweeps from toe to head.

And then, I come back down to earth.

“Mine,” I growl against her throat as we both ride out the aftershocks. “You're mine, Lilly.”

She doesn’t say it back.

I should be afraid. Yet every instinct I have to run, to keep things simple, to never let anyone get close enough to matter, goes non-existent.

I feel like I’m home.

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