Mountain Man's Baby Plan

by Nikki Chase

  Eli’s boisterous laughter fills the air. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you,” he says. “I always will.”

  A drop of hope enters my system.

  “I thought, at that moment, that it would be so amazing to build a family with you, to have someone like you in my life, always.”

  I fall silent.

  “I thought you’d make a good wife. And, a good mom.” Eli pulls me into his embrace again, and I’m just glad I can bury my face in his chest because I feel like I’m about to cry.

  I don’t like crying in front of people. I never have.

  “You’re so quiet.” Eli rests his chin on top of my head. “Am I scaring you with all this family talk?”

  I shake my head.

  I mean, I am scared, I guess. But, not in the way he’d think.

  It scares me how much I want the thing Eli just described. It terrifies me how much I want us to be a family.

  And, I know it’s not going to happen. Not unless I want to deprive Eli of the future I know he deserves.

  “I hope you mean that, princess because I won’t stop feeling this way about you. I can stop talking about it if it makes you uncomfortable, though.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I look up at him, hesitating, wondering if I should tell him the truth. “Eli, has it ever occurred to you that I might not be as amazing as you think?”

  “Nah,” he says, grinning. “Nice try, but nothing will change the way I feel about you.”

  I give him a smile and hide myself in his embrace. I’m too much of a coward to tell him, after all.

  “It’s around one,” Eli says.

  “Huh?”

  “You asked for the time, remember? It’s one p.m. So, what do you want to do the rest of the day?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug.

  I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to go anywhere. Guilt weighs me down and makes me lethargic. Or, maybe I just can’t bear the thought of us leaving this cabin when everything is perfect here, in this moment.

  “Want to meet my niece?” Eli asks. “She’s probably home by now.”

  “No,” I answer, probably a little too quickly. “I mean, I’m sure she’s lovely. I just—”

  “Don’t worry. I get it. It’s too soon,” Eli says. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know I’m moving fast. I’ve just missed you so damn much. I feel like I have to make up for all that lost time. But, I shouldn’t force it.”

  I’ve spent so many nights dreaming about growing old with Eli that the notion of him moving too fast seems ridiculous. But that explanation seems to satisfy him.

  “Can we just stay here?” I press my body against him, kiss his neck, and whisper in his ear. “I’ll make it worth your while …”

  Eli chuckles. “You know I can’t say no to an offer like that. But, I have one condition.”

  “What is it?” I ask, nibbling on his ear lobe.

  Eli

  “I have one condition.”

  “What is it?” she asks, teasing me with her full lips on my ear.

  I’ve fantasized about Sophia so many times it’s not hard to come up with things I want her to do. The problem is choosing just one.

  “Actually, make it two.”

  “You’re greedy.” Sophia giggles, her soft tits pressing against my side.

  “I just can’t get enough of you.” I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it up. “First, I want you to take your clothes off. All of them.”

  Sophia pulls away just enough to look at me, her eyebrows lifted. “You do realize it’s cold and there’s a buttload of snow outside, right?”

  “I fixed the furnace for a reason.”

  She laughs, a melodic sound that tinkles across my ears. “People tell me there’s no such thing as a free lunch. Now I know what they mean.”

  “Always happy to teach you important life lessons.” The half-grin that had been slowly expanding across my face grows bigger. I can’t believe how much brighter my life is with Sophia in it.

  “Life lesson learned.” She’s already pulling her shirt all the way off and taking her pants off, as well. That certainly helps to make this place look better.

  She’s so sexy I can’t get enough of her. That perky ass, those juicy tits, that naughty glint in her green eyes … and most of all, that little perma-smile on her lips that tells me she’s just as happy around me as I am around her.

  She’s still wearing her bra and panties as she looks up right at me. For a split second, something disturbs the sparkle in her eyes, and I wonder if something’s wrong, but she continues smiling, albeit a little self-consciously.

  Did something happen to her to hurt her? Did something happen in the city? Or does she still retain the pain from how I ended our relationship seven years ago?

  Maybe this isn’t the time to talk about it. She’s already smiling again, anyway—zero trace of sadness left on her face.

  I’ll help her heal. I’ll take her pain away, I swear.

  But, it’s probably not a good idea to try and do it all in one go. Time will help. And we have time. All the time in the world. Because I’m never letting her go again.

  For now …

  “I said all your clothes, princess,” I remind her.

  “But what if someone sees me through the window or something?”

  “You know that’s unlikely.” I pause, my muscles clenching at the thought of some peeping pervert watching my Sophia while crouching by my window. “Okay, you can wear something … if you reach the kitchen, grab the apron from the top drawer, and put it on before I count to five.”

  Sophia’s eyes widen. “What? Which top drawer? What does the apron look like? Can I wear my bra and panties underneath?”

  “One,” I start counting as I grin at her, not offering further explanation.

  Sophia squeals as she runs toward the stairs, her tits bouncing in her bra. I love the way her delicate legs move, agile and light. Watching her makes me want to grab her by the ankles, spread her wide open, and give her the fucking of her life.

  “Two.”

  I follow her up the stairs, slapping her ass when I catch up to her.

  “Three.”

  Sophia yanks open random drawers in the kitchen. She’s getting close to the right one, but she’s not quite there yet.

  “Four.”

  Sophia groans with frustration as drawers bang open loudly. Then, she cries out in triumph, “Found it!”

  “Four and a half …”

  She keeps her eyes on me as she hurriedly pulls out a black apron and puts it on herself. “Done!”

  “Only because I gave you an extra count,” I remind her. “Take off your bra and panties, princess.”

  A flirty smiles plays on her lips as she follows my directions. I watch as her tits jiggle free, my cock stirring in my pants again. Jesus, she makes me feel like a teenage boy with too many hormones raging in my system.

  “Good girl.” I take long, sure strides toward Sophia.

  She’s so much smaller than me and completely vulnerable. But she stares back at me without blinking as if challenging me to do my worst.

  That’s something I’ve always liked about her. She’s tough. She has guts. Maybe that’s why she got picked on so much in high school—because she wasn’t afraid to stand out and stand up for herself even though she didn’t have a posse to summon.

  That, and the fact that the most popular girl in school was jealous of her simply because her boyfriend liked to stare at her.

  The thought makes me angry, but I can’t blame that boy for finding Sophia attractive because Jesus, just fucking look at her.

  I grab her by her red hair and tilt her head up until she’s looking right into my eyes. I kiss her like I’m trying to claim her back. Back from that high school boy who had inadvertently made her life a living hell. Back from any other guy who has ever laid his eyes on her. Back from whoever fucking hurt her in the city.

  She’s mine. I want everybod
y to know that. Including her.

  “Secondly,” I say as I pull away from her, “you’re not allowed to touch yourself. You belong to me now, remember? You said so yourself.”

  Sophia nods as she fights for air, her face flushed and her lips red from my kiss.

  “Very good,” I tell her. “You are allowed to rub yourself against anything you want, though. A pillow … The furniture … Me …” I cock an eyebrow.

  Sophia’s face grows redder but she continues to meet my gaze. I can tell she likes it.

  “No complaints? Good. Now, make me some scrambled eggs.”

  “That’s three, and you said you only had two conditions,” she says.

  “That last one wasn’t a condition. It was a command. Besides, you must be hungry, too, aren’t you?”

  Sophia nods.

  “Good. I need you to be the one cooking because I’ll be busy staring at your ass.”

  The edge of Sophia’s mouth twists up into a small smile.

  “You’ll find eggs in the fridge,” I say as I let go of her hair and lift myself up to sit on the island countertop. “Don’t forget to close the drawers.”

  Sophia says nothing, but she nods and pushes the drawers shut, grabbing a skillet from inside one of them.

  When she turns around to put it on the stove and grab the ingredients from the fridge, I’m treated to a view of her firm, rounded ass cheeks below where the apron is tied around her waist.

  I whistle in appreciation, and she just gives me a shy smile over her shoulder.

  Sophia never says much when she’s following my commands. She’s fully immersed in her role as my sexual submissive. That doesn’t mean she’s just a passive participant, though.

  While the oil heats up on the skillet, she reopens the fridge a few times to grab things, bending over and pushing her ass back even when a simple reach would suffice. She glances back at me, smiling when she catches me watching with my jaw tight and my cock tenting my pants.

  Yeah, she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

  She pushes things around on the skillet with a spatula, her ass wiggling as she moves, and I can’t take it anymore. I unbutton my jeans and unzip, knowing she’s listening.

  Sure enough, she looks over her shoulder just as I pull my cock, already hard as stone, out of my pants. I smirk as I wrap my fist around my shaft. Now she’s the one watching me, her tongue darting out to wet her juicy lips.

  “You want it, princess?” I ask.

  “Yes.” Sophia nods as she fully turns around, not taking her eyes off my cock. That hunger in her green eyes … God, I fucking love how the mere sight of cock is enough to turn her into a sexy siren.

  “Then, be patient. You’re supposed to be cooking now, so pay attention to what’s happening behind you. You don’t want to burn the food and get punished, do you?”

  “Maybe I do,” she challenges.

  “Are you sure?” I raise an eyebrow. “If you burn the food, I won’t let you come all day. I won’t touch you or let you touch yourself. I’ll just let you suffer.”

  “Fine,” she pouts as she turns back around.

  I can’t help but smile. Hopping off the counter, I step closer until I’m right behind her. My knuckles rub against her ass cheek as I jerk myself off, and my hot, hard cock makes brief contact with her skin every once in a while. I rest my chin on her shoulder and lightly kiss her long, slender neck.

  Sophia sighs as she raises her free hand and puts it on my head, pulling me closer. Her eyelids flutter close.

  “Pay attention to what you’re doing, princess, or you’ll burn the food,” I remind her.

  “I am,” she says, her eyes snapping open.

  “Good.” I run my fingers up her inner thighs. I smile with satisfaction as I feel her muscles tense under my touch.

  Sophia stabs her lower lip with her teeth in her attempt to maintain her focus on cooking. Her breathing grows labored.

  I reach the top of her legs and graze a finger along her folds. I’m not surprised to feel her juices coating my finger.

  “You’re so wet already,” I tell her.

  It’s hard to ignore the subtle trembling of her body, or the throbbing in my own cock, but this will pay off when she loses her mind with desire. I put my finger against her plump lips.

  “Taste yourself.” I press my cock against her ass as she parts her lips and obediently takes my finger inside. “I can’t wait to fuck that pretty mouth.”

  “You can do it now,” Sophia says with my finger still jammed inside her mouth, muffling her voice.

  “Not yet.” I pull my finger out of her and take a few steps back. Leaning against the counter, I put my cock back in my pants. “We both have to be patient, princess. We should eat first.”

  “Fuck eating,” she says, glancing back at me.

  “Such a dirty mouth.”

  “Forget about eating. Fuck this dirty mouth.”

  “I’d love to.” I smile. “But you don’t get to call the shots around here. I’ll do it when I want to. No sooner.”

  Sophia turns off the stove. As she gets on her tippy toes to grab the plates on a high shelf, I notice her wetness dripping down her thighs.

  Good.

  I take my seat at the dinner table and gesture for Sophia to sit opposite me.

  We eat the scrambled egg in silence. The sexual tension in the air is so thick neither one of us feels like making small talk. We just stare at each other as we chew on the food, both inwardly drooling over each other but holding ourselves back.

  When I’m done, I lean back in my chair and watch her eat.

  “Spread your legs,” I tell her.

  She shifts in her chair right away, eager to comply.

  “Are you dripping all over my furniture, princess?” I ask.

  Sophia bites her lower lip. “Yes.”

  “I thought so.” I put my bare foot up on her chair, right between her knees. Above the table, I beckon with my index finger. “Come closer.”

  Sophia drags her chair forward, stopping when she notices me wincing at the sound of the legs scraping against the floor. She lifts the chair forward. When she sits back down, she finds my foot positioned between her thighs. She stares at me expectantly.

  “Finish your food,” I tell her.

  Sophia wolfs down what’s left on her plate, inhaling her food like a starved woman.

  It’s not an easy feat when I’m also teasing her under the table, running my toes over her bare, sensitive skin. She keeps pausing to gasp, her body freezing as she grips her eating utensils hard. Eventually, though, she’s done.

  “Good,” I praise her.

  Sophia moans when I touch her wet folds under the table. Her eyebrows knit together as her jaw drops. Her hands grip the edge of the table like her life depends on it.

  “Remember when I told you not to touch yourself?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “I also said you were allowed to rub yourself against … things,” I add.

  “May I … May I do that against your foot?” she asks, dropping her gaze in submission.

  A lopsided smile forms on my face as I feel her growing even wetter. She’s acting coy like I’m forcing her into it, but deep inside, she loves this kinky shit. I’ll bet no city boy could make her drip the way I do.

  Tentatively, Sophia grabs my foot with both hands and plants it on the chair between her legs. Then, she scoots forward and starts grinding against me.

  Maybe it’s depraved, what we’re doing. But judging by the sexy sighs and moans she’s making, Sophia is loving it. I pull out my cock and stroke myself to the same rhythm, both of us watching each other’s faces without actually seeing what we’re doing under the table.

  We used to do these things back then, too. Perhaps this is my way of reclaiming her, of showing her what only I can do to her, of telling her she belongs with me and only with me.

  Sophia picks up her speed, and I realize she’s reaching her peak. Abruptly, I pull my foot a
way.

  Sophia’s jaw hangs open as she continues to breathe heavily. Her face is flushed and some of her red hair is sticking to her sweaty forehead. Her green eyes grow so desperate I think she may start to cry.

  “Get up. Grab the back of the chair. Bend over.” My voice is hoarse and I can only form short sentences.

  I’m suffering, too, while I’m torturing her. And, as much as I want this to last hours, I can’t take it anymore.

  I walk slowly around the table and come up from behind her. As my hand keeps sliding up and down my shaft, I push the head of my cock inside Sophia’s soaked pussy.

  She moans loudly, pushing her ass back against me. I should tell her to stay still; I should threaten to punish her; I should perhaps spank her for real.

  But I just can’t wait anymore. Her body is begging me to pump into her and, fuck, I want the same thing, too.

  I grab her hips and yank her flush to my body, sinking my cock inside her. There’s no time to marvel at the way her small body takes in my whole length in one go. Already sensitive from humping my foot, Sophia writhes on my cock, rocking her hips against me with abandon.

  I thrust my cock in and out of her eager pussy, her muscles clenching and gripping my cock so hard I can’t help but let all the arousal I’ve been suppressing take over.

  I grab Sophia’s hair and yank her head back, slamming into her again and again, unleashing my primal instincts on her.

  I’m fucking her so hard and deep I’d worry about hurting her little body if she weren’t chanting, “Harder. Harder. Harder,” under her breath with every thrust.

  As Sophia’s muscles tighten around me and milk me for all I’m worth, I thrust deeper, more violently, giving her what she wants, prolonging her ecstasy as I chase my own high.

  The sight of her shaking wildly around my cock is just too fucking much. Her sweet, soaked pussy feels like a dream on my cock, hot and wet and so fucking tight.

  I growl as my cock explodes deep within her, my balls blasting hot cum out the tip of my cock. I pull her hair as my other hand grips her hip hard.

  She’s like a fucking drug. There’s not a single substance on earth that makes me lose my mind like this. And, just like a junkie, I don’t care what it takes for me to secure my next fix.