Page 5

She bucks against me, subtle, desperate. Her breathing turning ragged and choppy. Wet heat spills out of her, making me bare my teeth as I hold her throat, forcing her eyes on mine.

“Almost,” I growl, low. “Almost time.”

I squeeze, feeling her muscles clench. She arches, a small groan escaping her lips.

“Two fingers now.” I pull out, pressing my ring finger next to my middle one and pushing against the tightness as she hisses. “I know baby. It’s a lot but you can do it.”

“ Ow .” She drops her head back, exposing her throat against my hand.

“You need me to stop?” I give her a second, I already know the answer, but I want her to hear herself say it.

“No, don’t stop.”

“That’s what I fucking thought. Little lacy pink dress, white little panties all covering up a pussy that needs the right kind of attention.

” The words come from my chest, something about this girl twisting me into something I’ve denied myself for so fucking long.

“You can do it, two fingers now, all the way in.”

I have to stack my fucking fingers because there’s no way I’m tearing her cherry this way. I want the honor of doing that with my dick.

I work in even strokes, her body easing the entry with wet acceptance, pushing the pad of my thumb onto that nub, grinding it down on the bone underneath. Her thighs start to shake.

“Eyes on me baby.” I adjust my hand on her throat. “Don’t you dare look away.”

Her lips fall open, her breathing stalls. Body tense.

“So responsive. Such a good girl.”

So fucking beautiful. She’s not faking a thing and this fucking girl has me obsessed.

“Give it to me,” I demand, rough with desire. “Now.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, face flushed. Body trembling. And then it happens.

A shudder runs through her, starting deep in her core. Her little fingers tighten on my back, nails digging into the flannel. Muscles squeezing, squeezing, squeezing.

The release washes over her, body convulsing. Hips bucking. Mouth making unintelligible beautiful noises. Her scent does more to make me drunk that the whiskey did.

Pleasure rocks through me, as I bite down, nearly severing my tongue as I battle the orgasm that threatens to create a disaster in my pants.

I work her through the downslope of her pleasure. Her tremors subside. She slumps back against the wall, legs falling. Breath slow and shuddering.

I pull my hand free, holding it up for her to see. “Filled my hand.” I take a long slow lick, cleaning her from my palm and fingers as she watches like a baby deer in the headlights.

“There,” I rasp, rough with satisfaction. “Feel better? I do.”

She looks up, eyes glazed with pleasure. A small, satisfied smile.

"Holy shit," she breathes when she can speak again.

I chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Language, little girl."

"That was..." She looks up at me with something like wonder. "I had no idea an orgasm would feel like that . No wonder there’s so much hype.”

Something primitive and possessive roars to life in my chest at the confession. She’s mine. This sweet, brilliant little girl who's just trusted me with her first real taste of pleasure is all mine, and always will be.

"Well, now that you know," I say, helping her down from the shelf, adjusting her dress back into place. "Don't settle for anything less."

She stares at me for a long moment, her dress rumpled, hair messed from my hands. "What happens now?"

"Now I take you upstairs and spend the night showing you a whole bunch of other wonders. If you thought my fingers were good, wait until I get my mouth on you."

Her breath catches, pupils dilating at the promise, but before she can respond, the emergency alarm sounds on my phone, filling the small room with the blaring urgent noise.

“What the heck is that?” Her hands fly to her ears. “I hate loud noises.” The moment is shattered as her face twists, her body goes concave. My heart already hammering against my ribs kicks up a notch. That alarm is for search and rescue emergencies.

I curse through my teeth and pull out the phone, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her into my chest. "Shit." I glance at the screen, “The Sheriff. Also, my brother. He doesn’t use that number unless it’s urgent.” I lean down and kiss her cheek, “I have to take this."

As soon as I hit accept, before I even get the phone to my ear, Colt’s voice is coming through.

"We've got a situation. Eight-year-old boy wandered off from the Maple Creek campground around sunset. Parents didn't notice until an hour ago. Temperature's dropping fast and the kid's got no gear. Rain’s coming in too."

That chill runs through me when it’s a kid. Eight years old in these mountains at night in late fall can turn deadly fast. "I'm twenty minutes out."

"I need you here now. Told the parents we have the best tracker in the state."

I hold the phone against my shoulder, giving her a moment to steady herself. “Sorry baby.”

“Go, it’s a kid. You gotta go.”

I'm already moving toward the door, grabbing the phone in my left hand and her hand in my right. Out in the hall the bright lights make me squint as she tugs away, stepping past me.

"Wait," I say, grabbing her arm before she can take another step. I want to tell her I’m the one she booked her adventure outing with tomorrow. But, I also think it would be fucking fun to have her show up and see me there, ready to give her the kind of adventure that isn’t in the brochure.

She blinks up at me, confusion written on her features, as if… As if she thought I was done with her.

As if I could ever be done with her.

"It's... I'm...It’s okay." She stutters giving me this little wave like she’s saying goodbye; the orgasm glow still bright on her cheeks.

"Marley!" A chorus of female voices erupts from the reception hall, and she snaps her hand away from mine. Three bridesmaids descend on her like a flock of determined pink birds, apparently not even noticing me or the obvious fluster in their friend’s eyes.

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere! "

"The photographer needs to take some end of the night pictures of the bridal party in the suite," one of them says, already tugging on her arm. "He’s waiting—"

"But I—" Marley looks back at me helplessly as they pull her toward the elevator, and a growl falls from my throat.

I step their way, ready to grab her. Ready to take what’s mine and never let it go.

"You still there?" Colt's voice crackles through the phone again. "We're losing time."

An eight-year-old kid lost in the mountains trumps everything else, even the most important thing that's ever happened to me.

"Twenty minutes," I bark into the receiver as the bridesmaids sweep Marley away. "We’ll find him, brother."

She looks over her shoulder, her eyes wide and confused for one last moment as the elevator doors slide closed.