Page 20 of Wrecked on the Mountain (Stone River Mountain #2)

Chapter Eleven

Brooke

Yes.

The word pulses through me as I bend over Jamie’s desk, palms flat against the cool surface, spine arched just enough to tease.

My breath is shaky, every inch of me buzzing as his towering presence fills the room behind me.

He doesn’t move at first.

Just stands there, looming like a storm cloud, heavy, hot, and seconds from unleashing. I can feel the weight of his stare dragging over me like a touch.

My cheeks flush as my thighs clench tighter from the arousal pulsing through my body.

"You wore these on purpose, didn’t you?"

His low, gravelly voice coils around my spine. From behind me, his fingers find the waistband of my pants and trace along it slowly, teasing that tiny strip of exposed black lace like it's a secret only he gets to see.

I should be nervous.

The door is locked, the station is quiet, and I’m bent over a desk like a woman with no sense of self-preservation.

But instead, I feel… electric.

I smirk, just a little, teeth catching my bottom lip. Because yes, I fucking did wear these panties to tease him. I wore the panties, the matching bra, the clingy tank top that hugs my chest because a part of me wanted him to look. Wanted him to lose it .

"Answer me, Brooke."

God. His voice has changed. It's deeper, more commanding. Absolutely filthy .

It scrapes against something deep in me, and I glance back over my shoulder to find his eyes dark, nearly feral with need.

"Maybe." I let the word hang in the air, daring him. "What are you going to do about it?"

He growls low in his throat, a sound more animal than man. The rumble of it hits me straight between the legs, making my clit throb with need.

Then—

Smack.

His hand lands on my ass with a sharp smack that makes me yelp, the sting delicious and immediate. My body jerks forward, but his other hand catches my hip, steadying me on my legs.

“That,” he murmurs at my ear, beard grazing my neck, “was for teasing me on the mountain. And sweetheart, it’s just the beginning.”

Crack.

His hand lands hard on my ass again, the sting blooming into heat beneath the lace, and I gasp, the sound sharp and breathy as my knees wobble.

His hands roam boldly—over the swell of my ass, the dip of my waist, the arch of my back. I feel worshipped . Owned. Teetering between powerful and completely at his mercy.

This is everything I've craved since that first day—watching him through the fence, axe swinging, muscles rippling under sweat-slicked skin.

I didn't even know his name then, just knew I wanted those powerful hands on me.

Now he's here, sinfully hungry, turning me molten with just his touch.

He strikes my ass again and his palm stings against my flesh. I arch into it, silently begging for more.

I've spent years being in control. Now all I want is to surrender.

His palm smooths over the sting, and my entire body arches into the touch like I’ve been starved for it. He drags his hands slowly up my sides, under my top, until calloused fingers skim over my ribs and up, teasing just beneath my bra.

“Every time you’ve looked at me like you were sizing me up…” His voice is close now. “You think I didn’t notice?”

I moan as his hands reach my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples through the lace. My knees almost give out from the sharp, aching pleasure that makes me grind back against him, seeking more.

He groans, low and filthy, as I roll my hips against the unmistakable hardness straining his jeans.

“Fuck, Brooke.” He pinches lightly, then soothes the sting of my nipple with his thumbs. “You like this, don’t you? Being teased. Touched all over. Completely owned.”

I can only nod, unable to form words when his mouth finds my neck, sucking and kissing just beneath my jawline until I’m trembling.

Then his hand trails down, over my belly, down the front of my jeans. The other slips lower, tracing along the waistband at my back. A slow, taunting sweep until he tugs at the button with a flick of his fingers, popping it open.

I whimper, feeling my jeans slide down my thighs, and the cool air licks at my exposed skin.

"God, look at you," he murmurs, his voice softer now. “Bent over my desk like a good girl, wearing the panties you knew would drive me crazy. Did you think I wouldn’t do something about it?”

His fingers trace the curve of my lace-covered cheeks, then slip between them, pressing the fabric against my soaking heat.

“You’re soaked,” he growls, nose pressed against my skin, inhaling my scent deeply.

I gasp as his fingers press harder between my legs, rubbing slow circles through the lace. My legs shake as I whimper at his touch.

“Tell me what you want, Doc.”

“I want you,” I pant. “I want your hands on me. I want more.”

"You wanted me to look. To imagine bending you over the nearest surface and showing you exactly what happens to naughty girls who tease grumpy men."

I whimper. Loud. Desperate. Wet.

“Say it,” he orders. “Tell me you wanted my attention.”

“I did,” I whisper, breath catching. “I wanted you to look. I wanted you to want me.”

He delivers another sharp smack, the sound obscene in the quiet office. "You got it, Doc. Every filthy, fucked-up thought I’ve had since day one? You just gave me permission."

He drops to his knees behind me.

And my entire world shatters .

I hear murmurs of worshipping as Jamie takes in the sight of my core like it's a holy fucking ritual and he’s been praying for this moment his entire life.

“Jesus,” he breathes, and his hands grip the backs of my thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh as he spreads me open. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed of this.”

He starts with a single lick. Slow, torturous and right up the center of my panties. The heat of his tongue against the soaked lace makes me moan, my hips jerking forward on instinct.

“Oh my god—Jamie.”

He chuckles against me, the vibration sending a shockwave directly to my clit.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice like sin. “But if you keep sounding like that, sweetheart, I might start believing it.”

He hooks one finger beneath the lace and tugs it aside, baring me to his greedy mouth. And then he dives in.

There’s nothing soft or tentative about it. He licks me like he’s fucking starved. Long, broad strokes of his tongue from my entrance to my clit, then back again, repeating the motion over and over until I’m shaking.

“Oh, fuck… Jamie—”

“That’s it,” he groans, pulling me tighter against his mouth, burying his face between my legs like I’m his last meal. “So sweet. So wet. All for me.”

He flicks his tongue over my clit and I swear I see stars. My thighs tremble, and my knees threaten to give out, but his grip on my hip is firm, holding me exactly where he wants me.

Then he changes the angle, dipping lower to suck and lick at my entrance, tongue pressing inside and swirling at my wet hole, fucking me with his mouth while his thumb circles my clit.

The combination is too much. Too good. Too everything.

I cry out as the pressure builds in my belly like a storm rolling in fast. Anyone could be listening, and I forget to remain quiet.

The problem is, I can't stay quiet.

"Jamie!"

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, sucking hard on my clit. “Right on my tongue. Let me have it, Doc. I want every fucking drop.”

My body breaks apart at the command, my climax ripping through me with such force I sob his name, back arching, thighs trembling, pleasure blinding white behind my eyes.

He doesn’t stop.

Even as I come, he licks and sucks like he’s addicted to the taste of me, chasing every last tremble with slow, savoring strokes. His beard is wet. His mouth is coated. And he’s grinning like a devil when I finally collapse over the desk, gasping for breath.

“You’re unbelievable,” I pant.

Jamie stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and hooded.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he says, voice low and wrecked. “Now stay there. Keep bending over for me, sweetheart. I’m not even close to done.”

Jamie rises behind me, his body a wall of heat and muscle, and I can hear the sound of his belt unfastening.

“You sure you can take this, Doc?” he murmurs against my shoulder, his voice already wrecked with lust. “Because I’ve been holding back.”

I turn my head, breath still ragged from his mouth on me, and meet his gaze. Those glacier-blue eyes are now storm-dark with hunger.

He looks feral. Unleashed.

“I don’t need you to hold back,” I whisper, and my voice is a dare. “Not with me.”

His growl is low, dangerous, and then he steps back just enough for me to feel the absence of his heat. I glance down and what I see steals the breath from my lungs.

Jamie’s hand is wrapped around his cock, and fuck, he’s huge .

Thick. Veined. Heavy in his palm.

His shaft is flushed dark reddish-purple, glistening at the tip where he’s already smeared himself with my arousal. And the way he strokes himself is hypnotic. Like he’s showing me exactly what he plans to give me, inch by merciless inch.

My pussy clenches around nothing, aching with want.

And he sees it all. Sees the way my thighs shift, the slick glistening between them, the way I press my hips back like I’m already begging for him.

“You want it,” he says, voice rasping as his fist slides from base to tip. “You want every inch of this cock buried deep in your tight little cunt.”

I nod, dizzy with how badly I want it—want him .

His grin feral and wicked, and he steps closer. The swollen head of his cock brushes between my folds, but he doesn’t push in. Not yet.

Just teases, dragging it through my slick, letting it catch on my clit until I whimper.

"Been dreaming about this," he mutters, lining himself up, his voice a gravelly rumble that vibrates through my bones. "Been thinking about it every goddamn night since you rolled into town with your city attitude."

The tattoo on his forearm flexes as he positions himself, the ink shifting with each subtle movement of tense muscle.

"Yes. Please," I breathe, arching my back, offering myself completely, pride abandoned in the wake of raw need. "Jamie, I need you. Now."

And then—finally—he thrusts forward.

One slow, relentless push that has my nails digging into the desk, my body stretching around him, taking him in. Inch after devastating inch until he’s seated fully inside me, thick and deep and impossibly hard.

“Fuck,” he groans, grinding his hips against mine. “So fucking tight, Doc. Like heaven dipped in filth.”

His grip on my hips tightens, fingers digging into my skin like he’s anchoring himself. Holding me in place like he might explode if he moves.

Then slowly, his hips start to move. Slow at first, like he’s savoring the way I stretch around him. Each inch he withdraws feels like a tease, each thrust back in like a claim.

The desk creaks beneath our weight, my palms braced flat against the surface, hair falling into my face as he drives into me, thick and perfect and unrelenting.

My breath punches out with every thrust. He’s so deep. So full. Each stroke hits something electric inside me, something I didn’t even know I had.

“God—Jamie—”

He leans over me, chest pressed to my back, his breath hot at my ear. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m going to stay.”

One hand slides up, palm flattening between my shoulder blades, pinning me down like I’m his to take. And I am. In this moment, I am .

“You’re mine now, Doc. Got it?”

I moan, loud and unfiltered, nodding helplessly.

But it’s not enough for him. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back so I’m forced to look at him over my shoulder.

“Say it.”

His hips pause, his cock stalled inside my core, not moving an inch as his glare rips open my chest and claims my heart.

“I’m yours,” I gasp. “Jamie—I’m yours.”

He slams into me with a groan that sounds like it’s been ripped from his soul.

“Fuck, Brooke. You don’t even know what that does to me.”

His rhythm quickens, harder now, deeper. The room fills with the sound of skin meeting skin, of breath and desperate, filthy moans.

And then his hand slips between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing it with enough venom to shatter me completely.

“Oh— fuck —Jamie—”

“That’s it, baby,” he pants, lips brushing my shoulder. “Come for me. Let me feel you lose it on my cock.”

And I do.

I shatter around him with a cry, legs buckling, vision blurring. My walls clamp down on him, pulse after pulse of raw pleasure wracking through me.

He groans so loud, so primal, and slams into me one last time before he follows, coming deep inside me with a growl that echoes through the office.

His body collapses over mine, both of us trembling.

He holds me there, still inside me, arms wrapped around my waist like he can’t bear the idea of letting me go.

And I don’t want him to.

Not now.

Not ever.