I feel dirty. Surreal. Cheap.
And yet, I’m so turned on, I could make myself come within seconds.
Kellan’s hand slides across my ass, cupping it, lifting me up.
He takes my lip between his teeth and sucks it into his mouth a moment before his cock plunges into me—all the way in. I flinch at the jolt of pain that’s instantly replaced by a long wave of pleasure.
He’s too big. I don’t think I can take it.
“Kellan.” His name erupts from my lips in a moan.
“Yes, baby. We’ll take it slow.”
But there’s nothing slow about the way he thrusts deeper inside me.
Another moan escapes my lips. I’ve never been so stretched. The pleasure is almost unbearable. I should be moving my hips in unison with his, but all I can do is claw at his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
Electric jolts course through me, bringing me higher and higher to the edge.
“You’re so wet and tight,” Kellan growls, the sound almost feral, strained.
He’s close. I can feel it from the way he twitches inside me.
“I’ve been picturing me fucking you like this for months,” he says.
That makes two of us.
His hand moves between my legs again and begins to caress my clitoris in quick, circular strokes, the motion rough, demanding.
“Yes,” I gasp. My legs begin to shake from the effort of having him inside me when he puts more pressure on my clitoris, the motion sending me over the edge.
Kellan’s mouth stifles my cry before it can erupt out of my chest while his cock continues to pump inside me, his heavy balls brushing my entrance.
“Oh, God.” I reach that peak and close my eyes, my head rolling backward. From the periphery of my mind, I can feel his one last thrust and hear his own cry of release. At some point, he slides out of me, and his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close to him.
We remain silent as he’s holding me while my heartbeat barely slows down.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sitting down, I draw the sunhat deeper over my face, not to protect me against the warm sunrays, but to stop the wind from whipping my hair against my skin.
“Is it always this windy?” I ask.
I’ve been in Montana for six days. The wind stopped only once.
“No.” Kellan lets himself fall next to me. “It can also get very cold. Winter’s always drawn out. Why? Do you miss the city already?” He pulls his hat back and looks at me, a blade of grass between his teeth.
I look at the way he plays with it, the way he chews it between his teeth, letting his tongue slide along the blade. The same tongue that tortured and teased me. The same teeth that tugged at my earlobe. The same mouth that aroused and turned my world from gray into an array of colors.
It’s been a nice vacation so far, probably the best in years.
Correction.
It was the best I ever had.
He’s been inside me so many times I’m not sure I can walk straight anymore. It’s surprising we managed to get as far as the lake.
Taking in the scenery before my eyes, I realize the walk was worth it. The lake is vast; the water is silent and deep—much like Kellan. I dread the moment I’ll have to go. That one last moment together when it’ll be clear I’ll never see him again. Ever since Mandy left, I’ve been counting the days, the hours, the minutes.
She’ll be back tomorrow.
My vacation’s drawing to an end.
“No,” I say slowly. “I don’t miss the city at all. I sure don’t miss the stress.”
“Your job?”
“What?” I laugh and shake my head. “No.”
“What about your home?”
“God, no. My bedroom’s as small as a closet. It’s seriously crammed. But if you’re talking about my family…” I shrug. “They’re constantly traveling, barely calling. I rarely see them. I think it’s safe to say that I’m closer to my neighbors. You?”
“Me?” His lips twitch. “What about me?”
“Do you miss the city?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head, turning his eyes back to the lake. “Not at all.”
“Not even your car?”
He shrugs. “Money can’t buy you everything.”
I nod and let out a small sigh. “Maybe, but money can make your life easier. A lot easier.”
He remains silent for a while.
“That’s true,” he says at last. “But it doesn’t buy you happiness, nor does it make your life less complicated, or less of a mess. It sure hasn’t made mine.”
And here it is again—a hint of his past without revealing too much.
But his tone is different, as though he wants to talk but just can’t. As though opening up to someone doesn’t come easily to him, but maybe, just maybe, he feels as though opening up to me may be a possibility in the future.