The Mountain Man's Muse (A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance Book 1)

by Frankie Love

"I've never done this before," he says. "And I could never do this again. You're not only my muse, you're my wife. I need you to know that."

  I gasp, his intensity overwhelming in a way that sends prickles of excitement up and down my body. "You can't ignore me like that, River. I thought you didn't want me, it felt awful."

  "I know, Rose," he tells me, pulling up both to stand, his arms wrapping around me. His body is firm against mine, and I feel his cock harden as our bodies collide. "I've been a fool. A fucking idiot. I've never done this before, I'm over my head. I've never had a lover like you, let alone a wife." He blinks, and I see the emotion in his eyes. "I messed up, but I didn't know how to stop myself, I've never been like this before, so fucking inspired."

  "Did you get enough inspiration? Was this a one-time thing?" I ask, not letting this go too easily. "Are you sure you’re not finished with me now that you've got your book?"

  His hands hold me so tightly. "I could live off the inspiration you've already given me the rest of my goddamn life, but I don't want to, Rose."

  "What do you want, River?" I ask, the words falling from my lips and desire growing in my core.

  "I want you. Now." He holds me tightly in his arms, his palm on my back.

  "Good," I whisper. "Because you have me."

  Chapter Eleven

  River

  She read my pages and she saw my heart. I can't hold back anymore, and as her fingers run up and down my chest, I know she doesn't want me to.

  "I'm so sorry," I tell her.

  "I forgive you," she whispers and with those three little words, my heart soars. Her tender, gentle understanding tells me so damn much.

  "You have faith in me?" I ask her.

  "I do, River. I have faith in us." She looks up at me breathlessly, and I pull up her sports bra and toss it aside. Then I run my hands over her bare breasts, growling at the pleasure her soft skin elicits.

  "You have faith in us?" I ask, so damn grateful.

  "Maybe it's crazy, but isn't all of this?" she asks, her easy laughter filling the room.

  "I need you in a crazy way," I tell her.

  "Good, because, River, I can handle you being a reclusive writer who hides out in his office, but I can't handle sleeping alone at night. My body..." She gives a tiny whimper, her eyes closing as she sinks into a memory. "The pleasure you gave me... I need it again."

  I groan, lifting my wife in my arms, my fingers holding her tight little ass as her arms wrap around my neck. She kisses me, our mouths on fire as our tongues entwine. Our lips relishing each second as our kiss deepens.

  "Oh fuck, I want you," I growl, needing my girl so fucking bad. I carry her to the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace, and I pull off her yoga shorts to reveal her pussy, so pink and perfect.

  "I was a fucking fool to ignore you for a whole week. This sweet cunt was upstairs for seven damn days, and I wasn't enjoying it."

  A smile crosses her face, and she begs me to strip to nothing.

  I'll do as my wife wants. I push off my pants and pull off my shirt, then I stroke my long thick cock as she takes me in, licking her lips as she does.

  "You're so handsome," she tells me, her hands raking over my body. "Do you like the way I look naked?" she asks.

  I furrow my eyes. "How could you think I didn't?" But I immediately understand. "God, Rose, I'm so fucking sorry, you thought I didn't like the way you look. That's not why didn't come back to our bed.”

  She nods, closing her eyes, her long, luscious eyelashes driving me insane. "I thought maybe I wasn't enough.“

  I lean over my wife, my fingers running up and down her bare skin, pressing my hand between her creamy thighs. Her pussy is so slick, so willing, so wanting.

  "Oh muse, you're more than enough."

  "Show me," she says. "Show me with your cock." She bites her lip as she runs her hands down my bare chest, over each muscle, until she reaches my cock. Then she strokes me as I kneel before her, wanting her so fucking badly. I want to bend her over and push myself deep inside her until her tight little pussy screams with relief. Until she screams my name.

  "You're so hard," she moans.

  "For you. I'm so hard for you," I tell her.

  "Can I taste it?" she asks, getting up on her knees.

  I grin. "You want to take my hard cock in your mouth, muse?"

  "Please, I want to taste you."

  "I'll never again deny you your desire," I tell her.

  She smiles, dipping her head down to my cock, her mouth opens wide, and she begins to lick my tip, her lips opening as she begins to suck me more deeply.

  "That okay?" she asks tentatively.

  "Baby, you can't do this wrong." I push her head back to my cock, and she begins moving again, faster this time, sucking me off the way I need.

  "Oh, God. That's so fucking good," I tell her, my cock throbbing in her mouth, I'm so damn veiny and hard, rigid and wanting. I'm gonna explode in her little pink mouth. I'm gonna come, my seed is gonna slide down her virginal throat.

  "I'm so close," I tell her as she begins to choke on my cock. I ease up on her, wanting her to finish me off nice and slow, not wanting my muse to gag.

  "Oh, yeah," I tell her. "Keep going."

  She does as I say and soon enough I'm exploding in her pretty little mouth. She swallows my come like a baby takes a bottle.

  She licks her lips and wipes her mouth, looking at me with dreamy eyes filled with the pleasure that comes from satisfying your man.

  "Was that okay?" she asks. I grin, wrapping my arms around my muse, her perky tits so full and perfect. I draw one to my mouth, sucking her nipple, and then bury my face between her tits.

  She's so gorgeous with her narrow waist, her round ass, and perfect breasts. Everything about her is divine, I need her to understand that.

  I pull myself down to the floor and draw her on top of me, needing her cunt to ride my cock.

  "I want to watch you as you come," I tell her, taking her hips and setting her down on my cock -- exactly where she belongs.

  "Oh God," she gasps as her pussy begins to widen as she is filled with my cock.

  "Your cunt is gonna love it. You feel that? How slick you're getting just by sitting down on me? I know just where you need it, nice and deep. You feel that, baby?" I ask as she begins to lower herself onto me, straddling me, my cock buried deep inside her tight little pussy.

  "Feels so good," she manages to moan, her palms pressed hard against my chest, her tits bouncing as she begins to move, rocking her hips ever so slowly, my cock raging inside her cunt, the pleasure rolling over her as she locks eyes with me.

  "You're so beautiful," I tell her, as we begin to truly fuck. She moves against me, and I know her clit is loving the sensation. I knew she'd love this position, and I love it too. I love watching my wife as she rides me.

  "Oh yes," she moans, "it's coming on so fast," she whimpers. She runs her hand through her hair as it falls loosely around her shoulders. She's trying to catch her breath, but she won't because she begins to move deeper against me, grinding herself against my cock.

  "I'm gonna come so deep inside you," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her, and I roll her to her back, needing to thrust deep inside her pussy; needing to come with her legs wrapped around me.

  "I love you, Rose," I tell her as my come shoots deep inside her cunt, the very place it belongs.

  Fucking her is like coming home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rose

  On the bearskin rug, I lie in River’s arms. It's early afternoon and a smile spreads wide across my face. This is the moment I've been waiting for.

  "You really love me?" I ask him.

  River has me in his arms and my cheek is pressed against his chest. I breathe in his earthy, manly scent, amazed that this is my husband.

  "What? You don't believe me?"

  I shake my head. I lean up on my elbows, looking down at him. "It's not that I don't want to believe you; it's just you don't know
very much about me. I wonder how you could love me when you don't even know what I do."

  "Well, then, tell me," he says plainly.

  Sitting up I smile. "Actually, let me show you." I take his hand and we both stand. We’re naked, but this is our house, and no one is around. We're in the most private location I could ever imagine.

  In the kitchen, we both grab glasses of water. Then I open up my laptop on the kitchen island and pull up my YouTube channel.

  "What's this?" he asks, a frown crossing his chiseled face.

  "This is what I do. I am a yoga instructor and I have a YouTube channel. I make videos and I'm hoping to make a living at it."

  His brow creases and his mouth turns into a deeper frown. I realize he doesn't exactly understand what I mean so I explain to him about my channel, Stop and Smell the Roses. I tell him why being a yoga instructor was impossible in L.A., but how here, in this private and pristine location, I actually have a shot. The setting is right, my heart in a good place, everything adds up to the life I always wanted.

  "You can't keep doing this," he says emphatically as I finish explaining.

  I scowl. "What do you mean I can't do this? I can do whatever I want."

  He shakes his head. "No, Rose, you can't. You're my wife. I don't want you being a sex icon on the Internet."

  "River, do you have any idea how condescending you sound? My videos are about being Zen. About finding your center. About flexibility and strength. You’re just like every other guy in L.A. You see me in a down dog position and assume that means my back door is open." I'm fuming as I pace the kitchen. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt, and you don't even look at one of my videos to watch what I do, but you're already assuming the worst about me. See, this isn't love," I say, motioning between us. "This is a fantasy. You want me to be a cookie-cutter paper doll. Your muse. But I'm more than that."

  His eyes grow so dark as he watches me, and I'm glad I haven't held back. I said exactly what I mean. I’ve worked too hard at becoming the best version of myself to just let someone tell me to change.

  River runs his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths. In and out through his nose.

  Well, at least he can breathe correctly. But he's a far cry from being a yogi. This mountain man is nothing but a rough and rugged untamed ass.

  "Rose," he growls. "I'm sorry for losing my shit. Seriously. Can you show me the video?"

  I feel tears sting my eyes and don't want him to think the way he spoke to me was okay. "You can't just go off on me that way, River."

  "I know, I'm sorry, I'm not good at this. I'm used to being alone. I have been for years. And then you come here, all perfect, and it's really throwing me off. It's a shitty excuse, but it’s the truth. I want to be what you need, Rose. I just need to learn how to be that man."

  "I'm not perfect. I'm just a girl trying to make a life for myself. I don't need a husband who thinks he can treat me like he owns me."

  I bury my face in my hands, hating that I'm crying, but also needing River to understand that I'm not some Barbie doll. I'm a woman with a heart and soul.

  "Okay, Rose, I'm really sorry. Let me watch and try to understand."

  I drop my hands, wiping my eyes, and press play on a video I recorded in LA.

  "This is what I was doing in LA. I want you to see why now it's so different."

  He nods and begins to watch my video.

  "Hi, I'm Rose, thanks for visiting Stop and Smell the Roses!"

  In my opening sequence, there is a loud screaming match between my downstairs neighbors and a barking dog outside, even though I had shut the window. Hearing it back, it's no wonder I got all those comments about the atmosphere being so wrong.

  Not wanting to obsess as he watches my videos, I go to the bedroom and grab myself a bathrobe, wrapping it around me. I take a pair of River’s sweats and a tee shirt and head back downstairs and hand him the clothes. He pulls them on, still engrossed in the video, and I begin to move around the kitchen and start putting together a late lunch. I boil some pasta and find a jar of red sauce. In the fridge, I find a prepackaged salad. Then I find a bottle of red wine and open it, pouring us both a glass, and then I drain the noodles.

  By the time I turned back to River, I see he's engrossed in a third video. This one is of me from earlier this week. His brows are still furrowed, and he is deep in concentration. Then I notice, he is no longer watching the video, but instead, he is scrolling underneath in the comments.

  "I can see all the ones that you deleted," he says.

  I nod; even though I delete the rude and kind of creepy comments I can see them since it’s my channel.

  "Yeah, that guy is kind of a weirdo."

  "Rose, he isn't just kind of a weirdo. He's a stalker."

  I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right. The guy is kind of obsessed with me, that's it. It's stupid, and I delete them right away. Usually, I don't even read them."

  "Rose, do you understand how dangerous this could be?"

  "Dangerous?" I ask, handing him the glass of wine and trying to remain relaxed and positive. "I think you're the only one obsessed with me. No one else has ever been as interested, I promise."

  "Rose, this is why you shouldn't do this," River says, his voice tense. He reaches his hand out to touch mine, and as much as I want to remain unruffled by his words, I do believe he has my best interests at heart. "You can't trust people."

  I sigh, feeling like my husband is going to crush my dreams. "Tens of thousands of people have YouTube channels, River. I'm fine. And I want this, so badly. Please don't tell me to stop."

  River clears his throat, pressing his palm against my cheek. "I don't think you understand how beautiful you are, or how badly a man could want you when he sees you."

  "No one's ever wanted me beside you," I say, stepping away from him to finish preparing the meal. I add the sauce to the noodles and think through what he is saying.

  "This man wants you too," he says pointing at the comments. "They've been getting worse. Have you read them?"

  "No, I see his name and just delete them."

  "In this one, he says he is actually watching you."

  I smile, turning back to him. "Yeah, he's watching a video," I say.

  But River shakes his head.

  "I don't think so. He said here he loves the dock you're stretching out on. That your house is beautiful. That you look lonely."

  "He wrote all that?" I frown, moving closer to my husband, my blood growing cold as I think through the implications. “I don’t understand. The camera is facing away from the house toward the dock, so how does he know details about the house?”

  “Exactly,” River says, his voice low and intense. “He’s watching you.”

  Maybe River wasn't being overprotective. Maybe he is the right kind of protective. My protector.

  My chin quivers, my hands trembling at the thought.

  River wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. The room feels small. Like all the windows in the house need blinds. "Rose, this guy is closer than you think."

  "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice shaking.

  "I think he's here in Alaska."

  Chapter Thirteen

  River

  I lace my fingers through Rose's and our foreheads rest against one another.

  "You really think he could be close?" she asks softly. Her robe has fallen open and I run my hands over her soft skin. Her breasts are so full and perky, and I let my fingertips graze her gorgeous globes.

  "I do," I say, sighing. "He must have stalked you online until he found an IP address. Do you use that username for anything else?"

  Her face falls. “Yes, I use it for everything. My email, my dorky website…” Tears begin to run down her cheeks and I realize what this means to her. I see the impact in her tears. "Rose, I need you to listen to me, okay?"

  "What? Are you gonna tell me more things I'm not allowed to do?"

  I shake my head, then run my fingers through her lon
g hair, and brush her side-swept bangs away from her eyes. "No, I wanted to tell you that I find you incredibly talented. You are gorgeous in those videos, and I have a few thoughts on you wearing those skimpy ass shorts on camera, but I'm sorry for being such a dick about it. This is your passion, your dream. I wouldn't take that from you. God knows I wouldn't let anyone take my dream from me."

  Tears fill her eyes. "River, even though things started off rocky... are we going to be okay?"

  I nod. "Yes. I spent an entire week pouring out my heart. Only it was just on the page, not to your face."

  She nods, but there is still a pensive look in her eyes. She doesn't trust me, and honestly, she has no reason to. I let her down.

  "How about we go to the hot tub? We can leave the pasta for later. Let's go relax for a bit," I suggest. "I'll get champagne from the cellar and we can toast to our marriage like we should've done a week ago."

  Rose nods. "That sounds nice, actually."

  I kiss her gently. "And Rose, I love the name of your channel. I see why the mail-order bride service sent you to me. I asked for a woman who was okay with a slower pace of life, who could stop and smell the roses."

  A pink blush rises on her cheeks and she smiles. "Go get the champagne, I'll get the glasses."

  I jog down the steps to the basement, anxious to start showing my wife what she means to me. I look over the racks of vintage wines and find a bottle in the refrigerated section of the cellar. It was a bottle sent to me by my publishing house after my last release. I wasn't gonna drink it alone and now I'm glad it saved it.

  Heading back up the staircase, I hear a shriek, a scream, my wife's voice riddled with fear. I move faster, terror gripping my heart. The stalker-- he got her. I know he did. Goddammit, I can't let anything happen to my bride.

  "Rose?" I shout, racing through the house. The back door is open, and I run through it, shouting my wife's name. She isn't here. "Rose, I'm coming!"

  I hear a strangled cry and race down the stairs, following the sound of branches cracking. The afternoon sun is faded, but there is enough light to see where I'm headed. Up ahead I see Rose, she's being dragged through the woods by a man twice her size. But he is not twice my size.