Page 7 of Rugged Mountain Man (Cold Mountain Nights #1)

Chapter seven

Mika

I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in bed. The sheets tangled around my legs, making me feel claustrophobic, like I was trapped. Kicking myself free, I gave up on sleep and drifted down the hall to the living room.

Moonlight reflected off the snow outside, providing enough light that I could clearly see.

Cormac’s cabin was beautiful, cozy, and it smelled like a Christmas tree.

One wall of the living room was lined with windows overlooking a clearing bordered by woodland.

Animal tracks crisscrossed through the snow in every direction.

A large stone hearth housed a fireplace nearly as big as I was, and I warmed my hands by the glowing embers for a while.

I wrapped my arms around my middle, chewing my lower lip.

Ever since Cormac had touched my cheek in the car, delirious from blood loss in the middle of that storm, I couldn’t get him off my mind.

I wanted more, so much more. I wanted him to touch me everywhere with his callused hands, gentle and steady.

When I broke the glass, I thought he would be angry. I thought he would scold me for being a stupid klutz, like Brock used to do.

Instead, he held me. Kissed my temple and whispered reassurance that it was nothing more than a cup and a mess that was easy to clean up. Even though his leg pained him, Cormac helped me sweep up the glass, too.

I glanced in the direction of Cormac’s bedroom.

Someone will go the distance for you one day, Mika. And I wish to God that man could be me.

Tiptoeing to Cormac’s door, I stopped at the threshold for a second time.

His door was open, his sleeping form shrouded in sheets.

With his face turned toward the moonlight, I could clearly see the rise and fall of his chest on every breath.

The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the tanned hollow of his throat, sculpted muscle, and dark hair.

“Mika?”

I startled at the sound of Cormac’s sleep-rough voice. He lifted his head, propping himself up one elbow.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I was just…”

What? What was I doing here? Watching Cormac sleep in the privacy of his bedroom. There was no decent explanation for that.

A beat of silence stretched between us.

Then Cormac held out his hand, palm up. A wordless invitation to join him. I could take it, or I could walk away.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I stepped into Cormac’s room and placed my hand in his. He closed his strong fingers around mine, stroking his thumb over my knuckles.

I traced the column of his throat, across his collarbones. Then I slipped one of his buttons free. Followed by another. I felt his gaze on my face, felt his free hand curve around my hip and pull me closer.

“You don’t owe me anything, KitKat,” Cormac said softly.

“I know,” I whispered.

He sat up, guiding me to stand between his knees as he looked at me. Desire radiated from him like heat.

I thought being alone would bring me the peace I needed after Brock’s terror. I thought seclusion and isolation was the answer I wanted.

But it wasn’t.

I wanted to be here. Beside Cormac. I wanted to love and be loved in a way that was patient and soft, where we kissed each other through the messes and we cleaned them up together.

Cormac pressed his palm to my cheek, threading his fingers into my hair. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.

Hooking his arms around my waist, he tugged me down into his lap. I straddled him with my breath in my throat and my heart pounding hard enough to make my chest ache.

I skimmed my hands along his biceps, over his shoulders, scratching lightly at his scalp. A low, pleased growl rumbled in his chest.

“Fuck, that feels good.”

A smile spread across my lips, thrilled that I affected him like this. He rested his forehead on my shoulder, sliding his palms down to cup my ass. I gasped, rocking against the rapidly hardening bulge of his cock beneath me.

“Did you really mean it?” I whispered against the top of his head.

“What?” Cormac replied, muffled in the fabric of my pajama top.

“You said someone would go the distance for me one day. And you wished that man could be you.”

Cormac’s hands froze and his fingertips tightened, digging into my skin. He lifted his head to meet my gaze.

“I said that out loud?”

My heart lurched. This was it. Cormac would take it back, denying that he said it and I must have been imagining things. I smoothed my thumb along his jawline, down to the rhythmic flutter of his pulse. He really was handsome, strong. I couldn’t understand why he would be attracted to me.

“Of course I meant it,” Cormac said. “But you need time, to heal, to be alone—”

“I’ve been alone already,” I cut in. “I grew up in the foster system, but I was never adopted. I didn’t have any friends, I didn’t date, until…”

Until Brock. Until I was so desperate for the love I never had that I pounced on the first person who paid attention to me.

With Cormac, I had a taste of what true, real love felt like. And I wanted that for the rest of my life.

In the silvery glow of moonlight, Cormac kissed me, softly, deeply. I melted into his embrace as all that tension I’d been carrying for years finally dissipated. He slipped his hand under my shirt, the weight of his palm warm and heavy against my spine. Curving over my hip and up to my torso.

When he cupped my breast, I arched into him, tipping my head back. A torturous throb bloomed between my thighs. My panties grew slick, and my pajamas felt suffocating, restrictive. I needed to be closer, I needed Cormac’s skin against mine, I needed him inside me.

Unbuttoning his shirt, I pushed it off his shoulders, mapping his warm skin. Cormac leaned back against his pillows, gripping my hips to hold me in place. I braced my hands on his chest, fighting the flood of self-consciousness that washed over me as I sat atop him like this.

You’re too fat to ride cowgirl, Brock told me, more than once.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Cormac said, his voice hoarse.

He trailed his hands up my body, down over my hips and back up to my breasts, caressing them, pinching the nipples into stiff little peaks. Pleasure zinged along my spine, pooling between my thighs.

A blush burned in my cheeks. Afterdating a man who saw only my flaws—my nose was too big, the cellulite on my legs, the pudge of my stomach, the stretch marks on my hips and arms—it felt like I had wings on my feet to be with a man who called me gorgeous, who touched me like I was precious.

I peeled the sheets back and shifted my position to strip Cormac’s sweatpants down, releasing his cock. I kissed his hip, breathing in the musky, masculine scent of his skin. Curving my fingers around his length, I kissed the crown of his cock. It twitched in my grip, throbbing bigger.

“Mika, you don’t have to do that,” Cormac said through clenched teeth.

His muscles tensed with self-control. He was fighting the urge to thrust up into my hand, into my mouth. But he didn’t have to hold back for my sake. I wanted it all—to lavish every inch of him with attention, to kiss him and taste him, to watch him fall apart because of me.

I lowered my head and closed my lips around his cock, dragging my tongue along his length.

Cormac’s eyes fluttered closed and he sank into the mattress with a groan.

I never really liked sex with Brock. It was bland, boring, and he hated cuddling, which was the part I looked forward to the most.

This time, I couldn’t get enough. I felt ravenous with Cormac, swirling and flicking my tongue over the head of his cock. My mouth watered at the salty taste of his pre-cum. I shoved his sweatpants down around his ankles, nestling my body between his muscular thighs.

I could stay here all day, watching the pleasure morph across his face. Mesmerized by the clench and flex of every muscle and tendon in his body.

“Mika.” Cormac lifted his head and cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb along my lower lip. “It’s…been a long time since I’ve done this. I’m not going to last if you keep going.”

I grinned and swiped a teasing lick up his cock.

“ Fuck ,” Cormac grunted. “Get up here, KitKat.”

I laughed softly, trailing kisses along his torso, over his chest. Locking an arm around me, Cormac twisted to the side, tucking me tightly into his embrace. He nuzzled into my neck as he hooked his thumb into my pajama bottoms and worked them off. My panties followed a moment later.

He broke away just long enough to rummage around in his nightstand. I heard the tear of a condom packet and the snap of rubber as he put it on.

Then Cormac was enveloping me again, his naked chest against my back. He smoothed his hand over my hip, coaxing my thighs apart.

I gripped his forearm, braced across my middle. He guided his cock to my entrance, dragging the thick, blunt head through my lips before easing in.

I sucked in a breath of surprise at his size. God, he was big—so much bigger than what I was used to.

“Tell me if it’s too much, sweetheart,” Cormac said, his mouth brushing my ear as he spoke.

I pushed back against him, grinding down on two more inches.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. Keep going.”

Cormac flattened his palm to my lower belly and thrust forward. I whimpered at how good that stretch felt.

His hot breath puffed against my shoulder as he slowly sank deeper, inch by inch.

When my ass was finally pressed flush against his thighs, my walls fluttered and clenched around his length, adjusting to his size.

Everything burned with a glorious ache. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this full.

“That’s my girl,” Cormac murmured, kissing my shoulder, my neck. Pinching my earlobe between his teeth. “Your pussy fits me like a glove. Can you feel it?”

I nodded with a needy whine, reaching back to interlace our fingers together. Every slow, deep thrust brought a rush of euphoric bliss, slick and hot and so heavenly. I’d never been this wet in my life.

Less than a week ago, I was determined to feel nothing. To lock myself away from the world and everyone in it. I was bruised, defeated, broken.

Now, I was safe to feel everything in the security of Cormac’s arms, in the sanctuary of his bed, his home.

His lips at my neck, kissing the sensitive hollow beneath my ear until I shivered with pleasure.

The heavy drag of his cock inside me, with molten sparks of ecstasy pooling low in my belly.

His big, callused hands roaming my body, squeezing my breasts and caressing my thighs while he rumbled noises of approval.

“You’re so close, KitKat,” Cormac said, his voice strained. He wedged his hand between my thighs, rubbing my clit with skilled fingers. He knew how to go after what he wanted and he wouldn't let up until I was a writhing, babbling mess. “Come for me, baby. You can do it.”

I circled my hips, grinding on his cock without a thought in the world except for him and the way he made me feel.

My orgasm hit hard and fast with a strangled cry. I felt the sting of Cormac’s teeth as he sank his teeth into my shoulder, chasing his own orgasm. After a few sloppy thrusts, he buried his cock deep, pulsing and twitching as he came.

As the adrenaline faded from my system, and I fought to catch my breath, Cormac tightened his hold on me even further, if that was humanly possible. His cock was still inside me, growing soft, but neither of us showed any intention of moving to get cleaned up.

“Please tell me we can do that again in the morning,” Cormac mumbled.

I breathed a faint laugh and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I certainly hope so.”