Page 10 of Stone Cold Mountain Man (Cold Mountain Nights #7)

T aylor

I don’t know where the nerve came from.

Maybe it was the cover of darkness wrapping the room in shadows.

Maybe it was the way Wade looked at me tonight, steady and unflinching, like I was worth listening to.

Or maybe it was because, for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had to tuck pieces of myself away to fit beside someone else.

I’ve spent years learning to be quieter, softer, less. But with Wade, I never once felt like I was taking up too much space. Even when I was rambling over dinner, he didn’t look impatient or bored. He just listened, solid and calm, like he had all the time in the world for me.

That’s what gives me courage now — the certainty that he sees me and isn’t trying to shrink me down.

He doesn’t hesitate. There’s no lecture about propriety, no awkward excuses. He simply slides under the covers, the mattress dipping with his weight. The warmth of him seeps through the cool air instantly.

I shift, lifting just enough so his arm can slip around me. The movement is easy, natural, like we’ve done this a hundred times instead of once. He draws me close, firm, and sure. I settle against him with a sigh I didn’t know I was holding.

He’s solid heat and quiet strength, his chest broad beneath my cheek, the steady thud of his heartbeat grounding me in a way I didn’t expect. I fit against him like two puzzle pieces finally snapping together — no forcing, no adjusting, just right.

Wade lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to the crown of my hair. It’s soft, almost reverent, and my breath catches.

I tilt my head back, searching his face in the dim light. The faint glow from the window outlines his profile—strong jaw, straight nose, eyes dark and unreadable but fixed on me.

For a heartbeat, we just breathe the same air, inches apart. The storm rattles faintly at the shutters, but inside, everything holds still.

Something pulls at us—quiet but certain, like gravity. My fingers curl against his shirt, holding on, and I see his gaze drop to my mouth before coming back to my eyes.

My heart stutters.

The space between us feels fragile, charged, a moment balanced on the thinnest edge.

Whatever happens next, I know I don’t want to run from it.

He pulls me on top of him. My thigh part to straddle his waist and the unmistakable press of his hard cock, rubbing against my heated core sends a wave of pleasure through me and I let out a soft moan. We aren’t even skin on skin and it’s already better than I could have imagined.

Wade sits up to meet me, our chests pressed together, his arms wrapped around me.

His lips kiss a scorching trail up my neck to my lips.

He kisses me the way I wanted him to kiss me earlier.

His lips brush gently against mine at first, like he wants me comfortable and cherished.

But my impatience rears its ugly head and I nip at his bottom lip.

“Ouch,” he pulls back with a low chuckle.

“Here,” I say, running my hands down the muscled contours of his chest to the hem of his shirt and pull it off him. “Let me make it up to you.”

His eyes darken as I press my hands on his chest again and push him slowly back onto his back. I lean forward and kiss my own trail down his pecs to his abs…

Wade pulls in a staggered breath as I reach the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. I rub my face back and forth against him. The only barrier between my mouth and his cock, is a flimsy piece of fabric—and it’s teasing me.

I dip my fingers beneath the elastic and pull it down. Free of its cotton confines, his cock springs to attention and hits my chin.

“I’m sorry,” he says, as his breathing increases.

Wrapping my hand around the firm, thick length of him. I kiss the head gently. “I’m not.”

My tongue slips out and circles the tip, savoring the salty goodness of his precum that’s already leaking out.

Wade’s hands grip the sheets to keep himself in check, but his hips lift slowly as I take part of him into my mouth.

“Taylor,” he sighs, his head dropping back against the pillow.

I alternate between using my tongue and my mouth, loving the power shift between us. Wade is big and strong, but at this moment, he’s completely at my mercy. I can give him the release that he so desperately wants or take it all away.

My mouth adjusts to his size with each movement of my head up and down his length. I fully intended to bring him to climax, but Wade has other plans.

He grabs me by the shoulders to lift me up and flips me onto my back. I barely have time to register what’s just happened before Wade situates himself between my thighs.

“Wha—” I start to say but he cuts me off.

“When I come,” he says, thrust himself against my aching clit. “It’s going to be deep inside your hot, tight pussy. You got that?”

My attraction to Wade was hot before, but this dominant Wade has it going supernova.

I nod my head, not trusting my voice.

“I said,” he growls. “You got that?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The words surprise me. I didn’t think. I just said the words that felt so right.

This seems to be exactly what he wanted to hear.

Wade reaches between us and tears the lace and satin fabric of my panties.

He lifts the hem of my shirt and pulls it off me.

I moan as his hands reach up and cradle my breasts.

His hot mouth envelops one nipple—licking and sucking before moving to the other.

The pleasure surges like a current to my pussy.

I reach down between us and grip his rock-hard length.

He thrusts his hips allowing the head of his cock to brush up and down my slick folds.

“You are so wet, baby.”

“Please,” I beg, I reach around him and grab his ass to pull him closer.

He doesn’t make me wait. We both want—no need for this to happen. Wade pushes inside me with a steady control I lost long ago. My body stretches to accommodate his size. It’s uncomfortable at first, but by the time he starts moving in and out of me, all I can feel is the pleasure.

The friction of our bodies moving against one another, allows the pleasure to build higher and higher.

My lungs can’t seem to pull in enough air to catch my breath.

The sound of Wade’s grunts as the rhythm of his hips begin to pick up gives me something to focus on to keep my climax at bay until we can come together.

“Fuck,” he grunts into the crook of my neck. “Come for me.”

The feeling of his cock moving in and out of me and the feel of his breath against my skin is enough to send me flying. I close my eyes and fall off the edge, our shared orgasm consuming us both. Holding onto this man is the only thing keeping me from being pulled out into the vast nothingness.

For once, I’m not too much.

I’m perfectly enough.