Page 14 of Mountain Man's Winter Wonder

He held himself steady, his erection a hard promise against my wetness. “Take me, baby. I need to feel you.”

I sank down onto him in one slow, glorious slide, a guttural groan escaping us both at the overwhelming sensation of being so perfectly filled. His hands immediately found my hips, guiding my rhythm as I began to move. One hand slid between us, his fingers finding my clit again, stroking in time with my rising and falling.

“That’s it,” he breathed, his eyes locked on mine. “You feel so damn good. So perfect.” His other hand cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple before returning to my hip, anchoring me to him. “Look at you. My beautiful wife. Riding me like you were made for it.”

His words, filthy and reverent all at once, coiled the tension tighter inside me. I could feel the pressure building, a white-hot spark growing with every roll of my hips, every skillful stroke of his fingers. My breasts bounced with my movements, and the sight of his rapt, hungry face watching me was my undoing.

The climax crashed over me without warning, a seismic wave of pleasure so intense, it stole my breath. I cried out, my head falling back as my body convulsed around him, milking his length, seeing stars behind my closed eyelids.

Through the haze, I heard his own ragged groan, felt his hips buck up into me as my name became a prayer on his lips, “Yes, baby, yes… God, I love you…”

He held me through the aftershocks, his strong arms wrapping around me as I collapsed, boneless and sated, against his chest. Our hearts hammered a frantic, synchronized rhythmagainst each other. For a long time, we just stayed like that, tangled together on the sofa, his cock still inside me, his lips pressed to my sweaty temple.

A soft, incredulous laugh bubbled out of me. He chuckled, his chest vibrating against my cheek. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking,” I said, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “Remember when I was so terrified to leave my parents? I worried they’d never manage the restaurant without me?”

He kissed my hair. “I remember. And they did just fine. Better than fine. They thrived until they decided to retire.”

“And now they’re traveling the world,” I said with a contented sigh. “And they’re coming here for Christmas. For fun. Not because they need me, but because they want to see us.”

His arms tightened around me. “We built a good life, didn’t we? All of it. The restaurant, the kids…this.”

I lifted my head to look at him, at the man who had been my partner in every sense of the word for ten incredible years. The love in his eyes was a tangible thing, a warmth that settled deep in my soul.

“The best life,” I whispered.

As I rested my head back on his shoulder, surrounded by his scent and his strength, I let the perfect, peaceful happiness wash over me. I had once worried I’d never have this, that such consuming joy was something other people found. But it was real. It was mine.

And it was better than anything I had ever imagined.