The Mountain Man’s Kitten – Thickwood CO Read online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
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Mine, Mine. Mine.

Even through my haze, I feel him thicken, harden, though it seems impossible he could get any bigger, but he does, and as my heart races, screams tearing ragged from my throat, he plunges in and out, once, twice a third time, and I feel it.

His hands move to my hair, pulling and tugging as his hot release fills me. My body belongs to him. It hurts, his size, his hands tearing at my hair, but nothing has ever felt so good.

“Fuck, kitten, I’m coming. Jesus, Kat...” His words fall away, tortured, as his body releases jet after jet and I’m dripping with him.

I knew I wanted him. I knew...yes, I knew I loved him, but nothing could have prepared me for this. I’m owned by him. Forever and irrevocably his.

I climax into orbit again.

But, he’s not done.

His face is just above mine. Then he’s kissing my face, my eyes, my nose. His rough movements stop and he’s tender.

“You know I love you, right?” The words shock me from my bliss filled haze.

“What?” I reply, seeing a flicker of defeat in his eyes and I counter as quickly as I can. “I’m sorry, I do know. I can feel it.”

His dick is still inside me, impossibly hard as I see beads of sweat on his forehead, my scent on his beard, and suddenly I’m overcome with emotion.

My throat is tight, and the rims of my eyes burn. “I love you too.” I can’t believe when the words slip out, but now that they are out, I know just how true they are.

A deep groan comes from his chest.

“You need more.” It’s a statement, and before I can question what he means, he’s pulled out and grabs my body, flipping me over with rough tugs and pulls until I am on all fours, my ass back, and he’s mounted behind me.

“I need you like this. Fucking you like an animal.”

My heart speeds, I think I should be offended but oh my god I’m not. I’m so turned on when he drives into me in one swift motion. I’m already tipping into an orgasm as his body slaps against my ass cheeks, his dick giving me twinges of pain, feeling like it’s going to come up and out of my mouth he’s so deep.

He’s slamming in and out. Using me. A giant hand on my hip, holding me as the other gathers my hair and pulls, arching my neck and back as he fucks me like a sex doll, and it hurts.

Hurts so fucking good.

I never understood what that meant before, but now? I don’t ever want to live without it.

I’m filled by him. And not just his cock. I want this wild mountain man that I’ve craved for years. The reality is infinitely better than my girl fantasies and as he rides me like a dog finally finding the bitch in heat he’s searched for.

My thoughts are so vulgar, but I’m unashamed. Miller makes it feels so right and when he told me he loved me, I believed him down into the deepest center of my soul.

He pulls my hair until I cry out, then a little more as he pumps like a madman, filling me, and his voice fills my ears.

“Fuck, baby, yes, I love you, you’re never leaving me. Never.”

He buries himself to the hilt as my own orgasm takes me over, feeling like he’s punching the air from my lungs and marking me forever.

Our orgasms seem to pulse and linger for minutes or hours and Miller’s body comes down onto my back, my hair released, and his lips are warm and soft between my shoulder blades as he whispers filthy sweet things into my flesh.

Soon we are curled under the blankets, coming down from our high as Miller runs his rough hands over every inch of my body, his hard front against my back, and I half turn my head, swallowing.

“I do love you,” I say, clear and solid.

“I love you, too. I guess waiting for perfect wasn’t the best plan.”

“I think this is perfect.”

“Me too, kitten. Me. Too.”

Chapter Twelve

Katarina

MILLER LOOKS OVER AT me and raises one eye as he talks into the phone. “I’m not sure. I’m kind of busy...okay, okay, hold your horses there, Mr. Burnley.” He sighs as he puts his hand over the phone, obviously unaware that they have mute buttons these days. “My neighbors have a tree down, it’s kind of worrying Mrs. Burnley. I should be an hour, tops...”

I grin and nod. “It’s fine. You’re so good to them.”

Mr. and Mrs. Burnley are in their late eighties, and they never had any kids of their own. I know them because they adopted a puppy from the shelter last year, and Mrs. Burnley is the sweetest lady in the world. The idea that I would keep Miller from helping them just would never sit right with me.



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