Page 29 of Maple Kissed by the Mountain Man

I reached up, caught one of her heavy breasts, and pulled her dark nipple into my mouth, sucking gently.

Maggie let out a broken, needy moan, her inner muscles shuddering around my head—and she sank down another inch.

“Does that feel good, baby?” I murmured against her wet skin.

“Yes... god, yes...”

I sucked harder, my hand squeezing her other breast, and she groaned, taking more, then more, until there was nothing left to take and her pelvic bone met mine.

I was fully buried inside her, bare flesh against bare flesh, seamless and searingly hot. She pulsed around me, and I had to lock every muscle I owned to keep from coming.

For a long moment, neither of us moved.

Maggie opened her dark eyes, looking down at me in absolute awe. “You’re... you’re so deep.”

“I know.”

“I can feel you everywhere inside me.”

My restraint was hanging by a single, frayed thread. I reached up, hooked my arm around her back, and pulled her chest down against mine. “Move when you’re ready.”

She rocked her hips experimentally.

A jolt of pure, white-hot ecstasy shot straight up my spine.

Maggie did it again, a little faster, rolling her pelvis so her swollen clit dragged directly over the base of my shaft.

“Right there?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Fucking right there,” I groaned. “Do it again.”

She lifted herself up an inch, then sank back down, finding the angle.

“Ford...”

“I’m right here. Ride me, Maggie.”

“You feel huge,” she whispered, sinking down again. “I can feel you stretching me.”

“You can take it. You’re taking it. Look at you.”

“Don’t stop talking.”

“Then don’t stop fucking me.”

Her tentative movements vanished.

She braced her hands against my chest, threw her head back, and began to lift and drop her hips in a steady, relentless rhythm. Her thick thighs gripped my sides, her full breasts bouncing wildly with every downward stroke.

I watched her take me.

Watched the pure, unfiltered desire flush her skin, watched her dark curls whip around her neck as her breathing turned into ragged, beautiful gasps.

“You feel incredible,” she cried out, sliding all the way up to my head before plunging back down to the hilt.

“You’re wringing me dry.” My hands came up to grip her ass, helping her lift and drop, driving her down onto me harder, deeper.

The slick, wet friction of our bodies joining echoed through the tiny tent. The air inside the nylon walls grew hot, suffocating, and thick with the scent of sex.