FAITHFUL: The Mountain Man’s Babies

by Love, Frankie

His eyes search mine. “I told myself, when I came back here, I would stop fucking around.”

  “Good.”

  His mouth is so close to mine. He smells like a wood stove, smoky and deep. Heavy and warm. I want him to wrap his arms around me and light the fire. I want to burn everything down. Things I’ve never had before.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

  “Then don’t.”

  “If I kiss you, it’s saying something.” His breath is hot against my ear. My body is awake; lit. Alive.

  “What is it saying, Jonah?”

  “That this is real. You and me.”

  “You’ve known me an hour. How real can it be?” I ask but don’t believe in my own question.

  “Because you can’t fake real, Faith.”

  He’s right of course. And when he kisses me it’s the realest moment of my life. The words I’ve been looking for are found and my lips part and his tongue is against mine and everything — everything — in this moment is right. The story I thought I’d been writing is all wrong. Because this is the story that makes sense, the one that I want. Everything from before can be ripped up and thrown away.

  We’d bring those memories with us, of course, but they aren’t the part that will carry us forward. Jonah’s hands on my face, his mouth on my mouth — this is where my story begins.

  I kiss him, and I sink into a future I can see so clearly with a man I’ve just met. A man with a whale tattoo and a bruised and broken past. A man walking down a forgotten trail and finding me. Like I was waiting for him.

  As he kisses me, brushing back my hair, his hands sure and firm, I give myself over to the mystery of what will come next. I’m not scared. I’m ready.

  I’m his.

  Chapter Three

  Jonah

  She doesn’t just kiss me. She offers me every damn thing she has to give. I feel it, the transfer. The sharing of power, the want.

  “God,” I whisper in her ear, the heat between us rising, her skin against mine and I need her. All of her. She needs me too.

  “This is real,” she says, eyes closed, our noses touching, our fingers lacing. Our hearts pounding. This is real.

  “You want this?” I ask, needing to hear more than the rhythm of our shallow breath. I need her to tell me yes. This is what I want. You.

  Maybe it’s because I’ve been alone for so damn long. Since my ex, Steph, from Florida. Since way before that. Since forever. I’ve never ever had a connection like this. Because this — whatever is transferring between Faith and I could only exist in a space where the magic happens.

  “I want you,” she tells me. I lift her up, her body slightly, her legs wrapping around me. I carry her into my room and lay her down on my bed. Looking her over — this angel. This gift.

  Mine.

  “Take me, Jonah.” She licks her lips, desperation dripping from her words. I understand. My cock rages with desire. For her. Only her. And she pulls off her top, her breasts full, covered in lace. Perfection.

  I ease off her jeans, her panties white and her eyes so full of innocence I wonder for a moment if this is wrong. I’m a goddamn man, who knows what it means to fill a woman with myself.

  “You’re a virgin,” I say. She nods. There is no hiding, no pretend. This is real.

  “You’ll be my first, Jonah Rye.”

  “And I’ll be your last.”

  Even as I say it, I know how fucking bold the words are, but she doesn’t flinch. She takes my words in stride. She nods. “Yes, Jonah, you will.”

  She knows it and I know it. And it might sound farfetched, this much power to be felt so damn fast, but love isn’t a map you can follow; directions aren’t given out beforehand. All you can do is follow the trail and hope like hell that the road leads you home.

  Faith.

  Faith.

  Faith. She is my way home. She was at the end of the trail; one I had never walked before. She was waiting for me — hell, maybe she’d been waiting there all along. But today I took the path that led me to her.

  I tug off my jeans, toss my shirt aside. She looks me over with her lips parted, her eyes heavy. Her pussy is covered by those panties, and I need them gone. I push them off, unclasping her bra. Her tits are big and round, her cunt so pink and ripe. Everything about her is ready; full of longing.

  “You are…” I choke on my fucking words. Her beauty grips me, takes my goddamn breath away. She isn’t naive — she is pure. There is a difference. She knows what it means to love and lose and love again. She is no fool, she is strong, and she is vulnerable, and she is asking for what she wants, and I will give it to her. I will give her everything.

  I push down my boxers, knowing it’s a lot. Our bodies, naked, bare. So much is new, her first everything. And I want her to take all the time she needs.

  But she knows what she really needs, and it isn’t time. It’s me. Against her skin. “Come closer,” she whispers, that breathy voice of hers humming with light and hope. So damn ready to give her heart away. I’ll keep it fucking safe.

  I lean over her, my hand on the base of her neck, and she runs her hands over my length, her eyes closed and her pink tongue licking her lips as she feels me. As she takes my manly length in her hand and feels the weight of that much power.

  “Your touch,” I moan, my cock aching with desire. Never has a woman’s touch felt so damn near perfect. Her gentle stroke a sweet tease, my palm on her round, full breasts — taking her hard nipple between my teeth, sucking, tasting, needing more.

  She whimpers, the heat of our bodies is goddamn electric, hot and wild, and she runs her hand over my back, my skin prickling against her touch. I kiss her neck, my hands grazing her bare skin. Her body opens for me, a flower blooming with each touch.

  “My body… it’s yours,” she whispers as my fingers move between her legs, her pussy ripe and tender. “I’ve never been touched by a man,” she tells me. “Teach me what it means to be yours.”

  God, her words could fucking make me come, here and now, but I want to make this last a long fucking time. All day and all night. I want her pretty cunt to drip, to sing, to learn the rhythm of my body inside of hers.

  I will teach her everything she wants to know. And more. I will guide her pussy home, I will take her where she needs to go.

  My hand moves against her opening, she is slick and wet, my fingers at her center, her whimpers louder as I circle her clit. I need to taste her, and I ease down Faith, between her legs, my tongue running over her entrance. Her fingers run through my hair, her thighs trembling. I look up. “You okay, golden girl?”

  “Yes,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “It’s just… I’ve never felt so many things at once.”

  My hand stills against her. “Neither have I, Faith.” She understands what this means. Not just for her; for her virginity. But for me. “This isn’t how it normally goes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just met you, just tasted you, and fuck, I love you.”

  Her eyes stay locked on mine. “Me too.”

  It’s simple and true and crazy and ours. And when my mouth returns to her cunt, I lavish her with love. It’s fucking fast, this rush of emotions, but I don’t give a shit. I’ve spent a long ass time looking, waiting, wanting. Now I found Faith and I won’t let go. When you know, you fucking know.

  My tongue slides over her, making her squirm with pleasure, and pride swells over me, being her first lover, the only man to ever make her feel this fucking good. She needs more, though; she needs my thick cock inside her, she needs to come hard and fast, to scream my name, to never forget.

  Her release is creamy and sweet, and I suck her until she is moaning with need, her clit throbbing. “Oh, Jonah,” she pleads as she comes, as she wraps her legs around me, her back arching as my mouth sucks hard against her sweet little pussy.

  I move on top of her, her eyes searching mine, her mind rushing into oblivion. I reach for a condom, but she shakes her head. “No. I wa
nt to feel everything my first time.”

  “I’m clean, but you might—”

  “I don’t care. I’m in charge of my body. Let me decide. And right now, I just want all of you.”

  I look into her eyes. “You’re sure?”

  She nods. “I know the risks.” She licks her lips. “I want to be a mother.”

  My eyes widen. “Faith—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “You’re nineteen, your life is just beginning.”

  She smiles widely. With confidence and clarity. “Exactly.”

  I drop the condom, lace my hands with hers. “I will give you anything you want, you understand that?”

  “I know you will, Jonah.”

  “Why do you believe in me?”

  “You want to put down roots on this mountain?”

  I nod.

  She runs her fingertips through my beard. “Then start right now. Start with me.”

  I could fucking cry— her words are goddamn beautiful, trusting and true, and all I want is to make Faith happy, to help her soar. To spread her wings and be everything she dreamed, and more.

  “I don’t want to wait to start my story, Jonah,” she tells me. “Do you want to wait to start yours?”

  “I think it started the moment I found you. Everything from before was a goddamn prologue. You are my opening line. The first real sentence. The place the real story begins.”

  We kiss for a long time, lost in one another; lost in the pages we are only just now finding. We explore each other’s mouths, our hands moving as our tongues collide. Moving deeper, touching and teasing until we’re nearly blind with want. Until we reach a state of ecstasy that can only be found when you are getting off with a person who truly understands you. I’ve never fucked like this before — like it meant something so real and deep.

  So, when I ease my tip into her wet cunt, I cup her face with my other hand, needing this moment to be memorized. It is ours and no one else’s and we will always remember this. How the hell could you forget?

  “Take me,” she pleads, and I do. I fill her up, slowly, so damn slowly. And I know it hurts at first, she winces as my thick length fills her tight little channel, but I hold her against my chest, the whale tattoo between us. I will protect. I will take of her. I will never, ever let her down.

  When my cock is fully in her, she takes a long, shaky breath, clinging to me. “Look at me, Faith.”

  She does.

  “I love you,” I tell her, the words foreign and true and new, yet right. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “Never?”

  I shake my head. “Never.”

  Our bodies move so slowly, so tenderly, with a rush of need that only we can deliver.

  “This is love, isn’t it?” she asks. Tears in her eyes as we move to a rhythm only we can hear.

  “It has to be.” I kiss her then, softly, our mouths making promises, our bodies making vows.

  Yes. Yes. Please.

  Chapter Four

  Faith

  When he fills me up, the world washes away, and I wouldn’t believe I could feel so much, so fast, except I watched it happen with my dad and Virginia. They were strangers who knew the moment they met.

  And I know too.

  My body thrums to life as his thickness fills me, takes control of me, gives me exactly what I need. His hands run over my bare skin, my breasts, my hips, my thighs. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me, and I believe him. I feel beautiful in his arms.

  I melt against him, and he rolls me over, so I am on top of him, looking down at the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. The scruffy beard and tousled hair, his wry smile that matches his name. His biceps are big, he is strong, he is a man who could possess me in the way I need to be controlled. I’ve always been a free bird, but he has the power to take me under his wing and keep me safe from the wild world.

  I want that. Him. This. Us.

  And when I move my hips in a small circle, the feeling overwhelms me. “Oh Jonah, oh my, oh,” I moan, the sounds untamed and loud, echoing around us. The sounds coming from me. I press my hands to his chest, and he wraps his big hands around my waist, pulling me to him as we come together, hard.

  The sensation so much deeper, so much fuller than my own hand could ever manage as I tried in vain to get myself off. This orgasm is bigger than life and my heart pounds as his hot come fills me.

  I want this moment to last forever. Me, in his arms, being filled with his seed.

  “Oh Jonah,” I cry as his hands run through my hair, as he pulls my mouth to his, kissing me hard. I don’t want him to ever let go.

  “Faith,” he groans as he finishes inside me. My body warm and full. “God, you’re everything.”

  He holds me close and we try to gather our breath, to gain control, but it feels like everything we had, we just gave one another. We roll to our sides, facing one another.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” I say, smiling, my skin so hot with pleasure.

  Jonah kisses my shoulder. “You surprised me. Being so certain about what you want.”

  “Life is precious, Jonah.”

  His jaw tightens, he traces my shoulders, my collarbone, my neck. “You are precious,” he tells me.

  “You said you loved me. Was that a line or was it true?”

  “You really have to ask?”

  I shake my head, tears in my eyes. “No.”

  “Good.” Jonah kisses my forehead, his thickness between us, still hard, and my pussy thrums with desire — I need all of him. Again and again. “You said you wanted to be a mother, you mean that?”

  I nod. “My mom had six kids. I want a big family, I want to have a legacy.”

  Jonah smiles. “You’re an old soul too.”

  I pull the sheet over us. “I am. Older than my years, my mom always said.”

  Jonah’s hands run over my body, and I move closer to him. Not wanting any space between us. “So where did you grow up exactly?” I ask, wanting to know everything about him.

  “It sounds crazy, but my family was in a religious cult. It was a messy place -- ruined a lot of lives. Tore my family apart. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  I bite my lip. My own childhood was idyllic-- family dinners and warmth and parents who tucked me in each night. “I’m so sorry,” I say, my hands in his hair, tugging him closer. I kiss his lips, softly. Wanting to stay like this with him forever.

  “Yeah, fucking heartbreaking, Faith. It’s why I want my life to be about more than suffering. I want to fucking live.”

  “So, what will you do you do, now that you’re back from Alaska?”

  He rolls on his back, his head on the pillow. I memorize his profile. His nose, his lips, his long lashes. He groans, looking over at me. “I’m writing a memoir.”

  My eyebrows pop up. “You’re a writer, too?”

  “Trying. Not as literary as I’m sure you are, golden girl.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m just learning, Jonah. But I want to write something that moves people. Makes them feel something.”

  He nods. “I get it. I couldn’t imagine writing fiction, it seems hard. I love that you are.”

  “I have a lot to learn,” I tell him. “I’m taking some online writing courses; my dad is super supportive. I still live at home, and I work part-time. And I help with the kids. Virginia is pregnant again.”

  Jonah listens. “I heard that. You like living there?”

  “I don’t mind. It’s practical.”

  “Are you pretty practical, in general?” he asks. “I need to know these things, considering I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  I laugh, incredulous at all of it. I wrap my leg around his thigh, lacing my fingers with his. “I’m practical in nature. But a romantic at heart.”

  “Which is why you aren’t opposed to falling in love at first sight?” He kisses my nose.

  “Exactly.”

  “You know, if you are so practical, you could move in. Wo
uld make sense, considering this is a long-term arrangement.”

  I laugh. “You’re crazy.”

  He nods. “I am.”

  We lie like that for minutes, staring at one another. And before we blink, before we look away, it doesn’t seem so crazy anymore.

  “My dad would lose his shit if I told him I was moving in with a man I just met.”

  Jonah swallows and runs his hands through my hair. “Is it the older guy part, or the man you just met part that would piss him off the most?”

  “It’s the losing his oldest daughter part.”

  “You’d still be on the mountain. A few miles away.”

  “He’d hate me moving in without being married. He and my mom were pretty old-fashioned.”

  “They must have married young, considering how old you are.”

  “They were high school sweethearts.”

  “So, it’s not the age thing, really, is it?” Jonah asks.

  “No, it’s more of him not knowing you.”

  “We can change that,” he says. “And I’ll make an honest woman out of you.”

  I smirk. “Oh yeah, you want to go meet my dad for the first time and tell him we’re getting married?” I laugh. “The look on his face…”

  Jonah though turns serious. “That’s what I want.”

  I twist my lips. “What’s that?”

  “I want to marry you, Faith.”

  We both go still, the weight of his words between us. I stare at the whale tattoo on his chest. My novel about the great whale and the golden girl, seeming to take place in this small space.

  “Alright,” I tell him. “I’ll marry you, Jonah Rye.”

  His face breaks out into a smile as wide as the ocean, as bright as the star-filled sky. His arms wrap around me and I know I am his. Now and forever and always. His.

  “I think I’ll make you a fine wife,” I say, rolling on top of him.

  He laughs, big and wide and I laugh too. It’s crazy and beautiful and I don’t care what anyone thinks. This is real.

  He lifts my ass, and I sink ever so slowly down on him. “I’m sorry if it hurts.”