Cherished: The Mountain Man's Babies(15)

So, I promise. And my hands find her hands, and our fingers lace together, and under the big oak tree, I kiss her hard. No more soft kisses tonight. The sun is setting and our need is deep, and our love—damn, that is fucking real.

"Make love to me again," she asks, her voice soft but clear. She knows what she wants. After all those years of holding back, of not giving in to me and the love I had for her—she is ready to claim what I always wanted to give. "Make all the bad things disappear, if only for just a moment."

Anything for my girl.

I find the hem of her dress, the sun setting and the warmth of the sunset casting a pink glow over us both. I pull it over her head, and she gasps as I do, the summer breeze washing over us, around us. Wrapping us up in a lavender scented puff of air.

She looks beautiful, more of a woman than I remembered. She looks fuller, more voluptuous. Her breasts look huge, her ass bigger, her tummy rounder—in a sexy, I'm-all-woman way.

"Oh, love," I tell her, running my hands over her perfect skin. Wondering how I got so damn lucky to show up here when I was broken down beyond measure, to find her here. As if waiting for me. "How did you end up here?"

She shakes her head. "Later," she tells me. "Save that story for after. Right now, I need you to take me away. Far, far away." The tears are back in her eyes, she needs me to help her move past this place of pain she is in. She needs to be brought somewhere beautiful—somewhere ours.

Her hands tug at my shirt as if she needs to see more of me. All of me. I tear it off, and her hands are on my bare chest. She finds the tattoo on my skin, Cherish and she traces her fingers over the letters.

"Not Abigail?" she asks.

I smile softly, groaning as she undoes my belt, pulls it off. Her fingers resting on the waistband of my boxers

"I don't know the name you want me to remember you by," I tell her. "Abigail is beautiful, and the name you had growing up... but you were Cherish when you finally gave yourself to me. It means something different because of that. The woman you were when you finally said yes... that is the girl who had my heart."

"I should never have waited so long," she says, blinking away tears.

"We can't go back. We can't live in a place of regret, Cherish. We can only live in the present. Look at what we have." I shake my head, incredulous at our second chance. "We have one another."

I pull her to me, not letting this moment wash over us unless our bodies are pressed together, unless her skin in on my skin, our hearts are beating as one.

Wordlessly, her hands run under my boxers, her fingers finding my hardened length, my jeans falling to the ground. I kick off my shoes and step out of them, my body against her body, both of us naked outside under the tree. Same as when I took her last, it's crazy to think we have come full circle.

She's not ready to tell me her story, and that I understand: stories are complicated, especially ones born from sorrow.

She thought I was dead.

Her body is soft, opened in ways it wasn't a year ago. And when I touch her skin, her breasts feel tender. When I slip my hand between her legs, her pussy is wet, open, willing. In the space of a year, Cherish has become a woman the way she wasn't before. My heart breaks for her, for whatever has been done to her body, her heart. Her soul.

But also, knowing whatever has happened to her has made her stronger, more resilient.

Here.

Now.

In my arms.

I tell her I love her because I do. I kiss her hard, needing to feel her mouth on mine, and her breath is hot, her breath is heavy.

In my arms, I lay her on the lush green grass, her long dark hair splayed out around her like she is a goddess of nature. She looks at me with swollen lips and wide eyes. Then takes my finger in her mouth and sucks it hard.

"You know what you want?" I ask her.

She pulls out my finger and presses my hand between her legs. She doesn't say a word but I know exactly what she wants. What she needs.

I kneel before her, between her spread legs, relishing in the sensation of her hands wrapping around my cock, stroking me as if this is something she's done every damn day of her life.

But it's been so long, too long. It's been fucking forever.

She touches me, and with her gestures, she asks me to touch her too. So, I do. My fingers run up and down her wet slit, her body telling me this is what she wants.

My cock is thick with her hands wrapped around it, and I groan in pleasure. Her eyes close, her mouth turns up to a smile. God, it's so good to see her so happy.

My fingers run over her, circling her clit, needing her now, and wanting this to last longer than our first time.

My fingers press inside of her, her tight pussy opening to me, asking for more, and so I give it what it wants. My fingers move inside of her more and more quickly, until her back arches, her knees go weak.