Page 53 of Mountain Struggle

He made sure her right arm and shoulder were out of the water, then relaxed against the back of the tub. The feeling of having Tess in his arms went way beyond sexual pleasure—it was a sense of completeness he’d never realized he was missing.

She moaned again, and Damien caught sight of her pink tongue. He shifted his hips slightly, hoping she couldn’t feel his cock responding to the sound.

“I guess I didn’t realize how tense I was.” When he didn’t reply, she spoke again. “Are you okay, Damien?”

He held on tight and lowered his nose to her hair, sniffing her clean scent. “When Drake called me, I was so scared, Tess.” His voice broke—a strange, foreign sound.

Tess wriggled in the water, turning her head towards him.

“Hey,” she said, her hand on his rough cheek. “I’m okay.”

Damien nodded. “I just … to think that I almost lost you, again—”

Her slim fingers came up to his lips, effectively silencing him. “Kiss me, Damien,” she whispered.

Then her lips were on his, soft and urgent silencing all concerns.

Her kiss was oxygen for a drowning man and, behaving just like one, Damien held on to her for dear life. Their breaths mingled, and he knew then that he’d never be the same person again. Tess was part of him now, and he needed her to know how much she meant to him.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Damien kissed the salty warmth away reverently.

Then her hand came between them, looking for his cock. It was awkward—sex in a bathtub was something that Damien had never attempted before, probably for good reason—and he suddenly worried the bandages on her arm and shoulder were going to end up soaked.

He stood up, lifting her easily in his arms, bringing them both out of the tub.

Her mouth still on his, she came up for air long enough to voice a complaint. “It’s cold out here.”

He laughed, setting her down on her feet long enough to grab a large bath towel from the rack and enveloping her inside. Then he picked her up again, heading towards the bed.

“You’re not going to dry yourself?” she asked.

“In a second,” he replied, laying her body on the mattress gently, mindful of her injuries. “You look like a butterfly, about to emerge from its cocoon.”

“Like a moth, you mean?” she asked, but she was smiling.

Her nipples were puckered, whether from cold or excitement—or both—he couldn’t be sure. He patted her dry, then used the same towel to dry himself quickly.

Her legs opened up of their own accord as his hand found her pussy. She was already wet, and he felt his cock grow hard just from knowing he was the one making her feel this way.

Damien wanted to take it slowly. He wanted to cherish her body and make her understand how important she was to him—but her hips were coming off the bed, looking to get more of the digit he pressed inside her, making him feel out of control.

“I want more,” she said, impatiently.

“Another finger?” he teased.

She shook her head. Her green eyes were blazing. “Your cock.”

And then he was inside her. The pleasure was so strong, he thought he might come then and there. He inhaled and exhaled roughly a few times, praying for control. Then Tess’s core pulsed around him, and he forgot everything.

Mindful to keep his weight off her upper body and to stay away from her injury, he pounded into her. Tess matched each thrust, her legs wrapped around his hips and ass.

“God, Tess …”

“More, Damien, more,” she begged.

Damien’s pleasure climbed higher and higher. He was going to come soon, and he wanted—no, needed—to bring her with him.

He looked at Tess. Her eyes were on his cock as it drove in and out of her tight sheath. His hand snaked between their bodies slowly, letting her see what he was doing. His thumb found her.