Ordered By The Mountain Man(9)

“I expected that some mountain man who ordered a bride might not know his way around a woman.”

He lifts my top over my head, and his hands unbutton my jeans, shoving them past my hips.

“I ordered a bride because I don’t have time to fuck around with women who don’t want to be wives.”

“Oh,” I say, biting my lip as I step out of my shoes and jeans. Now, standing before Boone in a tiny thong and lacy white bra, I feel a twinge of guilt. He wants a wife. Not a fuck-buddy.

Well. We can discuss that later.

Right now I just want him out of those clothes.

“So you must be really busy if you don’t have time to date,” I say, as I watch him tug off his shirt, drop his jeans. He stands in a pair of boxer briefs, his cock standing at attention, practically begging to be set free.

Oh, I am certainly able to help with that.

“Yeah, I’m busy, Delta—but don’t worry. I have plenty of time to play.”

“Good,” I tell him, wiping my hand across my lip, scared I may be drooling as I take in his completely ripped chest. His biceps are fierce, and his evergreen tattoo covers his right arm. I want to run my hands all over his solid body.

And no, I’m not looking at his eyes, or looking at his heart. Nope. Not even sorta. I’m only looking at his chiseled skin, because I am a self-absorbed woman who is horny as hell.

Apparently Boone is equally interested in getting to the good stuff, because he deftly unhooks the back of my bra, letting it fall aside. His hands take hold of my tits; his thumbs run over my hardening nipples.

Oh, I am so wet for this man. I literally squeeze my thighs together, because I need some sort of pre-release. I’m ready for him to take me—yet he’s never even kissed me.

There are no metaphors happening here. We’re just ready to devour one another.

My fingers hook on his waistband, and I edge them lower, my breath catching at the narrowing V pointing straight to his package.

I pull down his briefs and lower to my knees. Kneeling, I pull off his briefs completely, letting them fall to the floor. His cock is free. And fuck me now, it’s gloriously right in my face.

And it’s hard as hell, thicker than I’ve seen, and long enough to fuck me sideways and backwards and … I don’t even know what that means except Yes. Please. Now.

“You like what you see, Delta?” he asks in a slow drawl. It’s not a southern accent by any means; it’s an accent that says I want you to suck me off right this minute.

“You have the sexiest cock I’ve ever seen.” It isn’t a lie or an exaggeration; it’s nothing but the unadulterated truth. He’s hard and huge, and I want to lick him until he comes all over me.

“You seen a lot?” he asks.

I run my hand over his hardened shaft; it’s warm and heavy and makes my core ache with desire. Looking up at him, I smile. “I’ve seen enough to know you have the best looking cock my pussy’s ever seen.”

“Good. I wanted my wife to think that.”

I stroke him up and down, the tip of his cock so pink and needy. I can’t resist.

Then he’s in my mouth, and I wrap my lips around him, widening so I can fit his thickness inside. I move my head closer to him, taking as much as I can. My fingers find their way to his nice, tight set of balls, and I fondle him, closing my eyes, imagining him fondling me, later.

My mouth is so full of him that I gag, but I don’t care. Some slut-shamers might say I’m a skank for stripping down with a man minutes after meeting him, but I don’t give a fuck. In my mouth is the cock of the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I’m winning this round.

“Delta,” he breathes. “You’re amazing.” He runs his fingers through my hair, causing my spine to prickle with anticipation. “So fucking good.”

I love his dirty mouth—and his firm ass, which I grab, pulling him closer, deeper, until I can’t take any more of his cock.

I feel him tightening in my mouth as he nears release, and I suck harder, wanting so badly to blow him until he comes. Until I can swallow. Until I can taste what he has to offer.

He thrusts into me, and I take him. He comes, spouting his thick, salty come in my mouth, and I swallow, greedy and desperate. I swallow, wanting him to slide off my panties and lick my mound up and down until I’m dripping for him. Then I want him to enjoy my sweet release.

I pull him out of my mouth with a pop, and look up at him, grinning. “You like that, Boone?” I ask, smacking his perfect ass again. “You like it when I suck you?”

“I fucking love it.” He takes my hand and pulls me to standing, then rolls his hands over my tits again. My core is just begging for his fingers to graze lower, to press within me.