Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Our grips on one another grow tighter, and we’re lost to the rhythm. It’s not long before I know I’ve hit the point of no return, too close to orgasm to even consider stopping. The fire within me is burning so violently, something needs to explode.
It hits me, and it hits me hard. All over. The warmth of orgasm washes over my entire body, every nerve flaring in ecstasy, and I can’t help but shout out Mac’s name at the top of my lungs. My grip on him is iron, and I don’t think even with as strong as he is, he would be able to get away from me if he tried.
Not like he wants to, anyway. He’s right there with me, my orgasm pushing him over the edge too. He erupts inside me with a deep, low groan. The pleasure flows from him, a sudden surge of warmth deep within me. Part of me knows what a bad idea such a thing is – I just met him – but I don’t care. In fact, I want it.
Both of us spent, neither of us are in any rush to break away from the other. We stay in one another’s arms, holding each other so tight, and Mac’s in no rush to even pull out. He just looks at me with a slight smile, running his hands through my hair, before finally shifting to the side so he can hold me close as he begins to drift off to sleep.
With all the excitement we’ve experienced today, turning in a bit early seems like a pretty good idea.
“You’re making me feel way too many things way too fast, Merit,” he murmurs with his face nuzzled against my neck.
And I have to say the same goes for him.
I wake up the next morning alone in the bed, but the smell in the air tells me I won’t be alone for long. The sweet smell of bacon fills the room, paired with a little bit of spice that I’m not used to. Mac proved to be a better cook than anyone in my family with that meal last night, and he didn’t even strike me as someone who tries especially hard with his cooking.
What a difference it makes, not thinking garlic is a population control device.
I slide into one of Mac’s shirts, buttoning it up, enjoying that it covers me just enough to give me some modesty while still being enough to tempt him. I head down the stairs to greet him, and find him cooking up a storm in only an apron and some jeans. It’d be even sexier if he lost the jeans, but I guess he’s more worried about grease burns on his thighs than looking good at the moment.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he tells me as soon as he notices me, but returns his focus to the task at hand.
Sitting in one of the chairs, I answer, “Good morning, handsome.”
He chuckles.
“What’s on the agenda today? You said you came up here to hunt, so I’m guessing you’re going to go do that?”
“I don’t need to. I brought plenty of food with me.”
“Isn’t that sort of at odds with coming up here to hunt?”
“Not so much, no. When me and the boys come up here to hunt, we put most of our kills on ice. My mother is the best at cooking up what we get, so outside maybe a little bit on the grill, we mostly bring our meals with us to the cabin. If we bring too much? Easy enough to bring it back home with us.”
“I guess it’s nice to hear that I’m not going to have to live off exclusively venison and beans. I had more than enough of the former at the compound, and I think I’d get sick of the latter real quick.”
“The beans in the pantry are mostly here in case we’re ever stranded during some sort of natural disaster, but I’m glad you found a use for them to not starve.”
More laughter. “So, you’re not going out to hunt?”
“Not today.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
He rubs his chin. “Well, I’m going to make you a big, heaping breakfast. You look deprived of good meals, so I really want to spoil the hell out of you, Merit.”
“I’m not going to complain about that. Then what are you going to do?”
“Maybe I’ll take you out to the dock. You like fishing?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never been.”
“Really? Your family are hardcore preppers who taught you a bunch of survival skills and you don’t know how to fish?”
“My father reserved fishing as an excuse to go drinking with his buddies. The plan was to teach all the kids everything, but apparently my survival is worth less than some beer.”
“Guess I’ll show you then. Unless you abhor the concept at this point?”