Page 30 of Maple Kissed by the Mountain Man

Maggie leaned down, kissing me deeply while her hips worked over mine without mercy.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, flipped our momentum, and thrust upward into her with everything I had.

Harder.

Deeper.

Bottoming out inside her with each thrust until she was screaming into my mouth. Her nipples dragged against my chest with every violent stroke, sending shockwaves straight to my groin.

I reached between our slick bodies, found her swollen clit, and pressed my thumb firmly against it.

Maggie tore her mouth away from mine, her head snapping back, her eyes rolling into her head. “Oh God! Ford!”

“Come for me again,” I ordered roughly, thrusting up hard into her sweet spot while my thumb worked her nub in fast, tight circles. “Come on my cock, Maggie.”

“I can’t... it’s too much!”

“You can. I’ve got you.”

I locked my gaze onto hers, refusing to let her look away, anchoring her as I drove into her body with relentless, precise power.

Something shifted in the air between us.

This was no longer just two lonely people blowing off steam in a storm. This was Maggie surrendering every guard she had, letting me see every raw, vulnerable fraction of her pleasure. And it was me, a man who’d locked the world out for years, opening my chest and letting her inside.

“Ford!” she sobbed.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let go.”

Her inner walls clamped down on my dick like a fist, milking me.

Maggie came with my name shattering on her lips, her body shaking so hard she collapsed onto my chest, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

The feel of her climax squeezing my cock obliterated what was left of my sanity.

I grabbed her hips, shoved up into her as deep as I could possibly go, and roared into the dark tent as my own release hit me like a freight train. I poured myself deep inside her, thrusting wildly into her dying spasms until every last drop was spent, filling her completely.

For a long, heavy minute, the only sound was the harsh, ragged tearing of our lungs and the rain drumming against the tent.

Maggie was completely limp, her cheek resting over my heart, her heavy body stretched out on top of mine.

I wrapped both arms securely around her back, pulling the thick down sleeping bag up over her bare shoulders to keep her warm.

Neither of us moved. Neither of us said a word.

My entire adult life had been built on solitude. I liked the silence. I liked shutting my iron gate, turning off the radio, and going weeks without seeing another soul.

Now, with Maggie’s damp dark curls resting under my chin, her soft, heavy body crushing mine into the earth, I couldn’t remember why I’d ever wanted to be alone.

Her small hand reached out, her fingers lazily tracing the long scar along my ribs.

“You smiled earlier,” she murmured, her voice drowsy and thick.

“I did a hell of a lot more than smile, Bennett.”

“I noticed that, too.”

I ran my hand down the smooth curve of her back, resting my palm on her hip.