Page 42 of One-Track Pride

I lower over her, stroking her face, and my mouth finds her neck. She gasps as I cup and massage one breast. This time it’s slower, passionate, more than what it ever was before. Her smooth skin, and hard nipples make my cock twitch against her, and she reaches down again, gripping it, stroking it.

I groan into her neck, and start lowering myself, kissing her collarbone, her breasts and finally her soaking wet pussy. I push her legs apart and my mouth meets her. I reach for my own cock as I lick her pussy and stroke slowly. Then I reach up, and push two fingers inside her. Her back arches, and I place my forearm over her hips to keep her pinned. Moving faster with my tongue and curling my fingers, her moans increase in loudness, and I thrust harder.

My own groans vibrate against her, and she threads her fingers through my hair pushing me down. I feel her pussy tighten, and she screams one of her silent screams as she comes. Her legs shake, and her hips urging to jerk but my arm isn’t allowing her. When she calms, I rise up and lay over her. She reaches for my cock and guides it to her entrance while leaning up to kiss me. She shifts and I push inside her, both gasping at the stretch and tightness.

I fuck her slowly, watching every reaction on her face, understanding her body, what she needs, what her body is screaming for with each thrust. Her body reacts to every sensation. I feel myself close, but I’m not ready, so I pull out, pulling her up off the bed. I’m about to turn her around, and bend her over when she moves lower, sliding down my body until her mouth is level with my cock. She takes the head between her lips and sucks, tongue pressing flat against the underside. I grip her hair hard to keep from thrusting forward as she works me deeper, taking more of my length, one hand stroking what her mouth can't reach. The wet heat of her mouth pulls a low sound from my chest. She keeps the pace steady until my thighs start to tense, then she pulls off with a soft pop.

She stands back up, and I gaze at her, ready to fuck her relentlessly. I swing her round, push her down, and thrust into her in one fast motion. Her moan sends tremors through me.

"Like that?" I ask.

"Yes." She moans.

I start fucking her fast, almost coming right out before pounding straight back in. Her pussy taking me deep, and her walls grip. I pull her head back, and reach down to her clit with my free hand, rubbing fast.

"Fuck, yes." She screams.

Her fists curl into the sheets, and I feel the build up of pleasure rushing through me. I control myself, I’m not ready yet. I want to feel every bit of her coming all over me. I swing her back around, lift her legs onto my hips and stare into her eyes. I know she’s as close as I am. Still gripping her hair, I squeeze her ass and relentlessly fuck her.

"Come for me." I whisper.

At that moment, I feel my cock expand, and her walls clench around me. Her mouth lets out a moan that I’ll remember forever, and we both come hard. Both hers and my thighs are shaking, her pussy continuously clamping and pulsing around me in strong waves that don’t seem to stop. The force of the orgasm taking over us. I hold still, feeling every sensation, and she rakes her nails into me. My fingers are digging into her hips, she hasn’t stopped moving through the aftershocks.

My head drops as the orgasm eases, our breathing uncontrollable, and she kisses my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, and drop to her side so we stay connected with her legs still around me, then she rolls away stealing half the blanket and the pillows.

I laugh and pull the remaining corner of the blanket over myself. She nudges one cold foot against my calf, apparently deciding that's sufficient compensation.

"So," she murmurs. "What now, Coordinator?"

"Now I sleep for a week."

"After that."

I turn my head to gaze at her, this exhausting, unyielding, entirely essential person who argued her way into my life and my secret and apparently isn't leaving yet. "I want to take you into the den, properly. Not for the investigation, not because the survey marker's down there. Because it's the oldest part of who I am, and I want you to see it."

Her eyebrows climb. "You realize introducing a woman to the ancestral cave family is an aggressively serious relationship milestone."

"You surrendered your claim on normal somewhere around the second avalanche."

"That's fair." She settles her head against my shoulder, smiling into my skin. "Okay. Show me the den. But I'm bringing a flashlight, because I don't trust your night vision to look out for mine."

"Deal," I tell her, and I fall asleep without listening for the next disaster.

31

CAMILLE

The flashlight I insisted on bringing turns out to be pointless. Evander moves through the tunnels beneath the mountain like he was born knowing every turn, and the deeper we go, the more I understand he essentially was. He's ahead on a narrow ledge of stone, one hand always drifting back to find mine at the tricky spots, and I've stopped pretending I don't need the help.

"How far down does this go?" I ask. My voice bounces off close rock and comes back strange.

"Farther than anyone's mapped. My grandfather used to say the mountain was here first and let the Shaws move in as tenants." He glances back, amber catching the beam. "There are chambers past the ones I'm showing you tonight. Places even I only visited once as a boy."

"And you're bringing a railway engineer with a compulsive need to document things into the center of it."

"I'm aware of the risk." His mouth tips. "You'll notice I didn't hand you a notebook."

The passage opens without warning into a chamber that steals whatever I was about to say. The ceiling lifts away into darkness, and the walls carry generations of Shaw history, hand-scored dates, worn carvings, a low stone shelf holding objects too old to guess at. This isn't a hideout, it's a home that predates the town by centuries.