Page 83 of When The Mountains Held Us

“Kiss me,” I breathe.

His mouth crashes down on mine, and the kiss is anything but sweet. It’s feral, hungry, alive in every nip of our teeth and clash of our tongues. His lips are bruising, as he kisses me with a desperation I’ve never felt before, but one that matches my own.

I meet each stroke of his tongue as I tangle my fingers in the hair at the base of his skull and tug. His animalistic growl of approval sends another shot of liquid heat straight to my core.

Levi’s hands grip my hips so hard I think they might bruise, and my nipples harden at the thought of being marked by him. Claimed by him. One minute he’s kissing me, and the next, he’s tearing his lips from mine. I whine in protest, before a startled gasp escapes me as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my leggings and gives a small tug. Not enough to pull them down, but enough to convey what he wants.

His eyes hold a desperate question when they meet mine. They’re darkened with lust, the normally bright green dulling to a shadowed gray, as if the color of my own eyes has somehow bled into them. His breathing comes in ragged pants. His parted lips are swollen and glisten with my kiss.

There’s ferocious longing in the fine lines of his face as he plays with my waistband again, a demand and a plea all wrapped into one, as if he can’t decide whether to command me from above or worship me from his knees.

If I’m not already addicted to him, I am well on my way.

His fingers twitch against my skin, but he makes no move to go any further. I release his neck and lean back on my hands, lifting my hips off the counter in silent invitation. Levi grins and pulls the leggings down, leaving the simple cotton panties in place. The cool marble countertop is a stark contrast to my flushed skin, cool and hard beneath me.

When my leggings are in a pile on the floor, Levi grips the hem of my T-shirt and helps me out of it. I’m completely enthralled by him. A heady mix of desire, trepidation, and delirium courses through my bloodstream.

“Lean back for me.”

I do so immediately, noting the twitch of his lips when he recognizes my obedience.

He runs a calloused hand across my chest, his fingers teasing my peaked nipples through my bra before pulling each cup down until I’m exposed to him. His hand drags over me again, this time skin against skin, and he swirls the pads of his fingers around each rosy bud. I moan, tossing my head back, loving the zing of arousal that shoots straight down to my clit each time his fingers pass over the sensitive buds. His hands find the backs of my knees, and he parts my legs, spreading me wide as his eyes feast on the wet spot between them. The scrutiny of his gaze is enough to have the air whooshing from my lungs. He licks his lips, looking every single bit a starved man with a grand feast before him.

With achingly slow movements, he trails his fingers down the front of my stomach and then lower, and my pulse thunders in my ears as I follow them. I want to watch, want to experience every single thing this man has planned for me. Everything that’s been building between us the past few weeks is at a tipping point, the anticipation so thick in the air that I could choke on it while I wait for it to finally shatter.

His fingers brush over my clit through the thin cotton, and I hiss in a breath through my teeth, my chest heaving when they continue their path lower to settle right over my entrance. He pushes against me, adding more pressure, and I can feel how drenched I am.

He plays with my arousal, before removing his fingers and holding them up between us. A flush burns my cheeks, but Levi looks victorious.

“Is this all for me?”

I’m so turned on right now I think I might burst into flames right here on the counter. Each teasing touch and sinful word out of his mouth has me climbing higher and higher, and he’s barely even touched me yet.

He takes me in, a look of reverence on his face before he grips my panties and yanks them down my legs. I yelp in surprise at the sudden forcefulness of the movement.

He wrenches me towards him until I’m right at the edge of the counter before hooking my right leg around his waist. I cling to him, loving the feel of the hard muscle against me. He widens my other leg, opening me up for him, and the cool air on my soaked pussy makes it that much more sensitive.

I’m aching, my pulse throbbing in my clit, as I beg with my eyes for him to touch me, fuck me, fill me.

Levi runs a teasing finger through my slit, and I groan at the fraction of relief that motion grants me, unable to stop the wordless encouragement falling from my parted lips.

“Mmm, look at you. Your pussy is weeping for me.”

I swear to God his filthy words are enough to send me over the edge all on their own.

“Words, baby,” he says patiently, pausing his movements and locking eyes with me as he waits for my response.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He rewards me with another swipe through my slit, this time circling up and around my clit, and I nearly jerk clean off the counter at the jolt of pleasure.

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me who you’re wet for.” He does it again, circling from my entrance to my clit and sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending.

“You! I’m s-soaked f-for you,” I pant, and then cry out when he plunges a finger deep inside me, bucking my hips to meet his hand. He chuckles darkly and pumps his finger in and out a few times before adding another. His fingers are thick and meticulous as they fuck into me.

If he keeps this up, I’m going to come in seconds. I can already feel the coiling low in my belly, and my pussy flutters around his fingers as he moves them.

“Thaaat’s it, baby. You needed this. You like my fingers deep inside you like this?” He curls his fingers, and, oh my fucking God, he’s hitting that spot I was convinced was a myth before I met him. His other hand lands on my lower stomach, right above my pelvic bone, keeping me still.