Owned By The Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men Book 2)

by Gemma Weir

  An orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and I scream as I claw at the couch cushion grasping for something to hold onto, while Huck rails into me, hitting my g-spot with every thrust.

  “So fucking tight, fucking perfect, never felt so fucking good,” he grunts as he fucks me with abandon, not holding back, taking me like he owns me, just like he told me he would.

  My second orgasm splinters the moment the first begins to fade, lighting up the darkness behind my closed eyes with a myriad of color as my nerve endings all seem to come alive at the exact same moment, making everything feel a thousand times more intense. I feel the way his thick cock fills me, how it finds that allusive bundle of nerves deep inside of me with every slide of his length into my soaking wet sex. He’s fucking me hard and fast and I love it, chanting mindless words, begging him never to stop, to keep fucking me.

  The hand on my back, slides up and tangles in my hair, yanking the strands and lifting my head up and back. For the first time since his cock entered me, his pace faulters a little and then the angle changes and I scream out my pleasure when the head of his dick does something that makes mini orgasms detonate with every thrust.

  “Oh fuck, oh god,” I cry. “Huck, oh god, Huck.”

  “You’re mine, Peaches, this pussy is mine, all of you is mine,” he snarls, as his thrusts become erratic. He slams into me, once, twice then growls as he slams deep, his hips jerking as he comes.

  Pulling my hair tighter he bends over me, palming my neck as he slowly grinds into me, twitching a little until he finally relaxes, his weight settling on my back, his lips landing between my shoulder blades and kissing me gently. “Fuck, that was…”

  “Unbelievable,” I say, finishing his sentence, my throat raspy.

  “Completely fucking unbelievable.”

  My sex feels empty when he slowly pulls himself free, lifting his body from on top of me and resting his hand on the base of my spine to stop me from moving. Perhaps if I was a little less boneless, I’d protest him keeping me bent over like this, but I’m too sex drunk to care. If he leaves now, I might just shuffle onto the couch and stay here.

  But he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he gently pulls my jeans from where they’re tangled around my ankles, then he lifts me up and turns me to face him, pulling my shirt over my head and removing my bra until I’m completely naked.

  Lifting me into his arms, he guides my legs around his waist as I wrap my arms around his neck. I’m tired, relaxed and happy, right now, I’d pretty much let him manhandle me however the fuck he wants if it means I don’t have to find the energy to walk myself into my bedroom.

  His one hand grips my ass possessively, the other spreads wide around the back of my neck, just like when he led me out of Barney’s tonight. It’s a possessive gesture that I don’t fully understand, but something about the way it feels is oddly comforting. Keeping me firmly in place, he walks us through my bedroom and into the bathroom, not letting me go as he leans in and turns on the shower. Neither of us are speaking, but the silence doesn’t feel strained, and soon the sound of the water fills the air.

  Stepping beneath the stream, the warm water covers us both and for a moment I rest my cheek against his shoulder enjoying the way the droplets feel against my hyper sensitive skin. I flinch when my back is gently pressed up against the tile wall, the coolness of the smooth surface, shocking in comparison with the steamy water.

  I feel his hard cock as he lines himself up with my entrance and slowly fills me. Bracing myself, I expect him to thrust in hard and deep, but he doesn’t. Instead, his pace is slow and languorous, his cock is rock hard again, making me wonder if he softened at all, as he slowly fills me, dragging his length out of my core, then gently filling me again, rolling his hips to stroke my g-spot every single time.

  My eyes fall closed as my head rolls back and hits against the tile, the pain not even registering when my body is alight with this much pleasure. I should be sore, sensitive, but instead my body embraces his, my legs tightening, my arms holding him tightly as he lays claim on my pussy and ruins it for any other man but him.

  I’ve heard legends of men that can make you feel the way I feel right now, but I never dreamt they were real. The sex I’ve experienced before now, barely seems to classify as anything more than clueless rutting in comparison with the sexual wonderland that Huck Barnett has shared with me in the last hour.

  His lips find mine, his tongue slowly filling my mouth in rhythm with his dick plunging into my pussy, as his fingers palm my throat, not restricting my air, more reminding me exactly who’s making me feel this way.

  Losing track of time, I part my lips and moan long and low as a sense of euphoria rolls through me in waves. This isn’t an orgasm like any I’ve ever felt before, this is a full body experience. But instead of shock and awe, this orgasm feels like a revelation.

  Huck’s mouth finds mine again and he kisses me as his thrusts become deeper, faster, until he groans into my mouth, letting me swallow the sound as he follows me into orgasm. My eyes closed, I let him lower my feet to the bottom of the shower, feeling the way he keeps one arm wrapped around me while he washes first me, then himself. He washes and conditions my hair before he turns off the water, lifts me back up again and wraps a towel around my shoulders, keeping my breasts pressed to his chest.

  I try to find the words to tell him to go, but I’m too exhausted, the cocktails and orgasms mixing together and draining my body of everything except happy sleepiness. Seating me on the bed, Huck rubs me dry, toweling the worst of the water out of my hair, before quickly drying himself. Then he scoops me into his arms, pulls back the comforter and climbs into my bed, keeping me held tightly to his chest, one hand gripping my ass until I fall asleep.

  I wake up alone, the sheets beside me still warm from his body heat. Rolling to my back, I sigh, the sound half sadness, half relief. Him still being here this morning wouldn’t have been good. But still, after everything he said and did last night I think I expected him to at least stop for coffee, not sneak out before I woke up.

  My shift doesn’t start till this afternoon, Tuesday is my late start and I’ve never been more glad to not need to get out of bed. My body is deliciously sore in all the best places. Last night was unbelievable, I lost count of how many times he made me come and unlike my previous one-night stands or fuck buddies, I have no shame about what we did together.

  I’ve never understood society’s need to shame women who enjoy sex, but who don’t want to be tied down with a husband. I’m not ready to be that grown up yet, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want a warm body who can make me scream so hard my throat feels sore.

  Yesterday I was worried about how me and Huck hooking up would affect my relationship with Bonnie, but now I’m past feeling guilty about it. Bonnie loves me, we’ve been friends most of our lives so I need to stop stressing over it and just enjoy a Barnett brother while I have the opportunity. It’s just sex, and damn good sex at that, time to stop overthinking things and just enjoy it.

  Stretching luxuriously, I close my eyes and groan happily.

  “Good morning, Peaches.”

  Freezing, I slowly turn my head to the doorway and find a very naked Huck smiling back at me.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you left.” It’s not exactly the nicest way to greet the man who gave me multiple orgasms last night, but in my defense, I assumed he’d already gone.

  The smile falls from his lips and his eyes narrow. “Wanna try that one again?”

  “I’m sorry, morning. But seriously what are you doing?”

  “Making fucking coffee,” he snaps, stomping across the bedroom and pouncing on me so quickly I don’t even have time to react before I’m pinned beneath him, my arms being held above my head, his hard dick probing at my sore sex.

  “Err hi,” I mumble, unsure how this is supposed to go. I’m not exactly well versed in the morning after the night before, fuck buddy situation.

  Without saying a word, the h
ead of his dick finds my pussy and he grinds against my folds, coating himself in my slick arousal. I hadn’t even noticed that I was wet until his dick is rubbing on me.

  “Maybe we should start over,” he growls, nuzzling at my jaw as he slowly rubs against me. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” I whisper, as he pushes his cock just an inch inside of me.

  “Last night was fucking incredible, sleeping with your ass pressed up against my dick all night kept me hard as a rock, so wrap those legs around me and let me fuck you, then we can have some coffee before I have to go to work.”

  I don’t argue. I might not have been expecting him to still be here, but I am not at all against morning sex. So I do as he says, lifting my legs and wrapping them around his hips, locking my ankles as he fills me in a slow, lazy thrust.

  My pussy protests the intrusion, I’m sore, but not enough to tell him to stop. Pausing, he drops his head and pulls one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking at the tip until it’s pebbled and hypersensitive. His teeth clamp down on it and he bites, pulling my tip as he grazes his teeth along the length, letting it fall free from his mouth as a burning heat surrounds the skin he was just abusing.

  “Oh fuck,” I gasp, tipping my head as I arch my back, pushing my breasts closer to his mouth and inadvertently driving myself more fully onto his dick.

  “Dirty little Peaches, you like that, don’t you?” he rasps, dipping his tongue out and laving at my other nipple as I arch up and push it closer to him.

  “Yes,” I gasp, my voice desperate.

  His dick is still moving inside of me, varying between short shallow thrusts and long slow drives, that feel like they fill me to capacity. With each grind of his hips, a twinge of pain makes my skin itch and desire pushes me to want him to do it again and again. “Harder.”

  “No, just like this,” he drawls, biting down on my other nipple.

  I moan, long and low like a freaking porn star, but the pain from his teeth, the burn as he releases the tip, the way his dick is rolling in and out of me is all pushing me towards an orgasm that I can’t wait to feel. My skin feels warm, even though I’m pinned beneath him, my arms held above my head. I’m at his mercy and the feeling of his control sends a pulse of desire through me.

  Tingles start at my toes, cascading upwards, until I come with a cry. My sex clamps down on Huck trying to hold him inside of me, force him deeper. He follows me over the edge, dragging his dick almost all the way out of my core, then slamming into me and groaning as he still above me, only his hips still jerking as he comes.

  “Fuck,” he laughs, leaning down and biting my nipple playfully. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Sighing happily, my muscles melt into the mattress, the orgasm he just gave me relaxing me to the point that I could probably fall back to sleep if I had the chance.

  I feel the loss when he slides his softening dick from inside me, but I don’t react, too sated to protest.

  “Come on, let’s get some coffee,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as he untangles my legs from around his waist and lifts his weight off me.

  Uncaring about my modesty, I let my legs fall to the side, not bothering to move my arms from where they were pinned only a moment ago.

  “You need to move, baby, if you stay like that, laid out like a fucking buffet for me to devour, I’m never going to be strong enough to walk away.”

  Blinking my eyes open I look down at myself. My legs are spread, my pussy exposed, the wetness dripping down my thighs.

  Wetness dripping down my thighs?

  Bolting upright, I drop my hands between my thighs, touching my well used pussy and feel the liquid dripping out of me. “You didn’t use a condom,” I shriek.

  His eyes are focused in on where my hands are touching myself, a soft smirk tipping at the corners of his lips. “Nope.”

  “Are you fucking nuts? Did you use one last night?” I can’t believe I didn’t notice, I wasn’t drunk, I only had a couple of cocktails, my clarity and sense weren’t impaired, so how is it possible that I didn’t notice that he hadn’t protected either of us?

  “I’m not interested in having anything between us,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Your cum is dripping out of my pussy, Huck, how do you even know I’m on birth control? I could be pregnant, one of us could have a disease. What the hell were you thinking? What the hell was I thinking, assuming you would just be careful?” I cry.

  “Breeding you wouldn’t be a problem for me and I’m clean, you are too.”

  “Breeding me, what the fuck? I’m not cattle.”

  Closing the distance between us, he strides confidently towards the bed, but I stop him, throwing my hands up in the air. “How do you know I’m clean?”

  “Found the test results in the kitchen drawer the other night after you fell asleep,” he says nonchalantly, like it’s nothing that he was going through my paperwork.

  “You went through my things?” I snap.

  “No, I was looking for a coffee scoop and the paperwork was sitting on the top,” he says, the smile gone from his mouth as a scowl replaces it.

  All of the warm fuzzies I was feeling just moments ago have gone and now I just feel stupid. I’m twenty-one, more than old enough to be responsible enough to insist a guy use a condom. He didn’t wrap up, but I didn’t even check and that’s on me just as much as him. “Look, I think you should go.”

  “No,” he hisses, his knee making the mattress dip when his palm wraps around the back of my neck and he tilts my head, forcing me to look up at him. “I don’t know what you think this is, but this isn’t a hook up, it’s not a one time situation, or scratching an itch. I want you, you want me. I want to lick and fuck and own this cunt,” he growls, cupping my sex with his fingers, stroking my folds and parting me, before he pushes two fingers into me. “I want to fill it up with my cum every night and every morning, claiming you from the inside out. I’m not fucking about, Peaches, you’re mine and I want your belly full of my kid.”

  What the actual fuck?! I have never heard a guy be so honest and ridiculously open about what they want. I mean, he’s insane, but I know without thought that what he said was the truth. His fingers are still moving in my sex, and glancing down I watch him pull his fingers out, caress my folds then push them back into me.

  He’s pushing his cum back inside of me.

  Jumping back, I yank away from his hold, crawl across the bed and rush to the bathroom. Turning on the shower I step under the water, not caring that it’s freezing cold. I pull the shower head from the hook on the wall and aim it at my pussy, washing away as much of his cum as I can, knowing this won’t help if somehow my birth control fails, but not being rational enough to care.

  “You ‘bout done?” Huck asks from the doorway to the bathroom, a scowl etched across his lips, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Somehow, even completely naked, he still manages to look intimidating as he watches me, clearly unamused.

  “We are not together, Huck—”

  “Yes, we are,” he calmly interrupts.

  “And when did that happen? What, you just decided that on your own?” I shout, grabbing the shower gel and scrubbing it over my body.

  “You decided it when you bent yourself over your couch and begged me to fuck you like I owned you,” he says, an edge of annoyance breaking through his calm tone.

  “That was just sex,” I cry. “I like sex, so sue me. The control thing was hot, the dirty talk was hot, but it was just fun.”

  “You telling me if I climbed in that shower and touched you right now, you wouldn’t be wet for me? That if I pushed your face against the tile, you wouldn’t stay where I put you and let me fuck you from behind? That you wouldn’t do anything I fucking tell you to do, because we both know you want this as much as I do?”

  “Did I enjoy us having sex? Yes, I did, very much so, honestly it was the best sex I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t mean I
want to be in a relationship with you. I mean fuck, Huck, you’re talking about getting me pregnant, do you know how fucked up that is?” I shout, frantically rubbing shampoo into my hair, I then wash it out and scrub conditioner in without care.

  Shrugging, he leans in and turns the water off, holding out a towel for me.

  “Can you just go?” I ask, wide eyed as I rip the towel from his hold and wrap it tightly around myself, suddenly remembering I’ve been naked the entire time we’ve been arguing. “Just go.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I wasn’t taught to run away from my problems,” he says, that façade of calm firmly back in place.

  “Don’t you need to go to work? What time is it anyway?”

  “It’s early, just after seven, Beau is gonna pick me up on the way back up the mountain.”

  “Jesus, it’s too early to deal with this shit,” I mutter, climbing out of the shower and stomping past Huck towards the bedroom.

  Strong arms wrap around my waist, stopping me from moving and holding me to him. Thrashing around I try to break free, but within seconds he’s restrained me, pinning my arms to my sides while he keeps me in place.

  “Calm the fuck down, Peaches,” he snarls against my ear.

  “I though women were the ones who were supposed to get clingy after sex, not men. You’re supposed to have snuck out this morning, not stuck around to get all midlife crisis on me.”

  His laugh is low and easy. “Sorry baby, not gonna happen. I’m not clingy, I’m just not gonna disrespect my woman by fucking you and then walking out.”

  “It didn’t bother you the first time we fucked,” I barb.

  “You weren’t mine then.”

  “I’m not yours now.”