Page 31 of Mountain Grump Protector

“You don’t have to⁠—”

“I’m kidding.” He holds up his hand to stop me, and I see the glint in his eyes. “It’s fine,” he adds, softer this time. “Really. I want you to feel safe here.”

“I do,” I say without hesitation and realize exactly how true the statement is. “But you don’t have to sleep on the chair,” I add. “I mean, not now that we…I mean. I just…”

“It’s okay.” He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us. “I know what you’re saying.” He cups my cheek so gently, it takes everything in me not to close my eyes and lean into his touch. His thumb is pleasantly rough on my skin as he strokes soft circles before leaning in to kiss me softly.

A sigh slips from my lips as I sink into the easy kiss, my body remembers the feel of him immediately as my mouth opens to accept his tongue and deepen the kiss.

I hardly even notice as he takes the mug of hot tea from my hand and sets it on the table before reaching for me with both hands.

My body melts into his as Cal’s huge hands span across my back, his thumbs finding the bare skin on my midriff, already heated in anticipation of more.

My own hands are traveling over the hard ridges of his abs, dipping lower to the button of his jeans. I can feel the hard press of his massive cock on my belly, and more than anything, I want to free him from the restraint of the denim.

We’re all fumbling fingers as I tug his t-shirt off and he lifts mine up and over my head as I go to work on the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Oh shit, Willow,” he groans as I wrap my hand around his thick, silken length. “Fuck, that feels good.”

I can’t disagree as I stroke him until he shudders and tugs on my shorts, shoving them down to my feet.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” His voice is gruff and only barely controlled as he lifts me easily and carries me to the kitchen table.

My ass barely hits the hardwood before he’s pushing his thick head into my soaking wet folds.

I groan as he drives into me, my eyes rolling back in my head.

It’s only been a few hours since we’ve done this, but it’s already been far too long. I tighten my legs around his waist and lie back on the solid table as Cal looms over me.

“I can't get enough of you.” His eyes are locked on mine as he pulls himself out, slowly dragging over every sensitive inch, before one more push in slowly, until I’m so stuffed by his massive size I can hardly breathe. “I dreamed of this,” he says, thrusting. “Of you. All night long.”

A cry rips from my throat as he bottoms out and hits that special spot deep inside me.

“Tell me you thought of me,” he orders.

“All night,” I say without hesitation. “The bed was too big without you.” Something flashes in his eyes as he thrusts into me. Hard. I force my gaze to stay locked on his. “I needed you,” I add. “I needed your cock.”

His pupils blow wide, and a growl rumbles in his chest at my words. “Fuck, Willow. You’re going to be the absolute ruin of me.”

The raw passion in his voice is going to be my ruin.

“Yes,” is all I can manage to get out as Cal increases his pace, driving me back into the table until I feel my climax starting to slam through me without any warning.

I don’t hold back as the scream rips from my throat.

“Fuck, that’s hot, darling.”

Cal grips my hips even tighter and follows me over the edge a second later. His hot seed pulses in thick waves, filling me, and for the second time in as many days, the thought of birth control floats through my head, but just as I did yesterday, I push it away. I’m on the pill, and while maybe the responsible thing to do would be to use a condom, we’re long past responsible here.

Cal grips tightly on my hips, holding me in place as we both work to regain our breath and come back to ourselves.

After a moment, Cal swipes a lock of hair back from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear with so much tenderness, it sparks an entirely new feeling deep inside that has nothing to do with lust.

“That was a good morning that I wasn’t expecting,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, “but I’m certainly not complaining.”

When I look up into his eyes, the genuine care and concern and…something else I can’t identify almost takes my breath away. It takes me a second to recover before I say, “Neither am I,” and offer him a small smile, when what I really want to do is ask him why. Why me? Why this? Why now?

The old me would’ve run from this. Or made a joke of it. Anything to keep from feeling what was actually happening.