Page 29 of Mountain Struggle

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said breathlessly. “Are you sure about this, Tess? You can still say no. You can always say no. It won’t affect—”

Even though he was holding her so gently she felt, in the strain of his arms, how much it was costing him to stay in control.

Tess opened the front door and pulled him inside, closing it behind them—some instinct told her she needed to take the initiative here.

“Stop thinking, Damien. Let’s make the most of this night. Remember the cave?” she asked.

“I haven’t been able to think of anything else for weeks. Just the feel of you in my arms, of your lips on mine—”

His words thrilled her. She wasn’t the only one who’d had trouble sleeping, then. She’d brought herself to orgasm plenty of times thinking about Damien, but it just wasn’t the same.

He was about to blow her mind—she hoped.

#

Damien

Thinking is not the same as overthinking.

He wanted Tess—more than he’d ever wanted a woman before, if he was honest with himself. But that didn’t make this right. She was still too young for him, and she’d been through a stressful situation just som short weeks earlier. He shouldn’t be—

She placed her hand flat on his chest, right over his heart. Her eyes were serious, like she was about to impart some piece of wisdom on him.

“I know what I want, Damien. You don’t need to protect me from anything—least of all yourself. This is a choice I’m making, and tonight I choose us.”

Her words propelled him to action. He brought his hand to his chest, looking for hers—curled his large, calloused palm around her soft one and led her to his bedroom, only just resisting the urge to lift her, caveman-style, in his arms. His shoulder had mostly recovered, but there was no reason to tempt fate.

She closed the door and looked around her. Damien saw the room as someone might who was seeing it for the first time—a room dominated by the king-sized bed that was so large it’d had to be pushed in through the window.

He walked to the bed and lit the soft night-side table, then took a step back towards her.

Tess raised her palm.

“Stop there,” she ordered, her voice a husky whisper. “Sit on the bed.”

Damien sat. He understood what she was doing—she’d told him this was her choice, and this was her way of showing him.

Standing gracefully on one foot, she took off one strappy sandal, then the other, dropping them on the floor. Next, she took off her sparkly top and stood there, wearing just her bra and tight jeans. The bra was black, lacy, and left little to the imagination. It seemed as if her creamy breasts would pop out if she breathed any deeper.

“Should I keep going?” she asked playfully, her hands on the top button of her jeans.

Damien groaned. “Please.”

Without looking away from her, he rearranged his cock through his jeans in an attempt to soothe the pressure.

She laughed and started wriggling out of her tight jeans, revealing light green briefs. The contrast with the black bra made his cock swell further inside his jeans. No amount of rearranging himself was going to take care of that.

“Take the bra off,” he begged.

She curled her finger.

“I’ll show you more if you show me what you’ve got,” she said huskily.

Damien stood up and walked towards her. Barefoot, she was a full head shorter than him, but he had the feeling that, of the two of them, he was the one more likely to end on his knees.

When he made no move to undress, she took the initiative, her slim fingers making short work of the small buttons on his shirt.

Desire shone bright in her eyes as she pulled the material off his shoulders, and he was glad for all the running and training that kept his body strong.