Property of the Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men, #1)

by Gemma Weir

I’m forty-three years old,

😮

I part my lips to speak, just as a furious looking Beau barrels through the door of the store. His eyes quickly move from me to Dan and back to me. Without breaking stride, he marches straight behind the counter, lifts me off my feet, and carries me into the kitchen, slamming the door closed behind us. “Wha—” I start to say, but before I can form the word, Beau’s lips are on mine, his tongue forcing his way into my mouth as he kisses me. I’ve been kissed before, but never like this. Beau’s still holding me off the floor, his one arm curled around my back and pinning me to him, while his free palm is wrapped possessively around the back of my neck. His lips assault my senses, devouring mine like I’m his own personal plaything.

The moment I fully embrace his touch, he pulls back, his expression dark, his eyes glittering with anger. “Obviously this morning I didn’t make myself clear. I want you, Bonnie, and from the way you’re grinding your little wet pussy against me, I know you want me too. I don’t share, baby girl. I’m a possessive, unreasonable, jealous mother fucker, and the moment you kissed me back you became mine.”

“I’m gonna do this quick, I need to be inside you,” he warns a second before he thrusts deep into me, taking my virginity in one quick movement.

Ow!!!!

“Baby girl, you’re starting to piss me off. I don’t give a fuck if it’s been a day, a year or a fucking lifetime. You’re my business, everything you do, say, feel, that’s my fucking business, and by saying that it’s not; you’re fucking cheapening what’s happening between us.

So toxic. Its not cute 😅

“We’re going out Friday night?” I ask. “No. I’m going out Friday night,” she says, taking the clothes I’m folding and carrying them back over to her closet. “Where the fuck are you going on Friday?” “Out with Cora, dinner, then drinks and dancing.” “Hell fucking no,” I hiss, turning my back on the clothes as I spin around to face her. “I wasn’t asking permission,” she shrugs.

This is starting to get too much. He's to possesive and it's not cute. It's definitely scary.

“I’m forty-three years old, I’d given up on finding something like they had, until I saw you all alone in that coffee shop. You were so beautiful, but so young. Too young. I’ve fucked other women, Bonnie, but you are the only woman I have ever seen myself falling in love with. You are the only woman I have ever wanted forever with. The others got sex, an hour of meaninglessness, but I want to give you everything,” I confess, my voice ragged. “Everything?” she questions, the word shaky. “Everything,” I repeat. “No space, no distance, nothing between us, forever.”

It's just really unrealistic to me

“How would you feel if I was going out?” “I’d tell you to have a good night and to drink water before you go to sleep so you didn’t have a hangover the next morning. Because I’m not crazy,” she says pointedly. “I’m pretty sure I warned you I was crazy. You’re mine, Bonnie, and I won’t fucking share.” “Jesus, Beau, I’m not going out to find someone to hook up with,” she says rolling her eyes dramatically. “The fuck!” I yell, grabbing her and dragging her to me. “You think that’s fucking funny?”

This is literally abuse... Not sexy at all

“No space, no distance, baby girl, I never said I’d play fair, I’ll do whatever it takes.” “So, all of this is just so I won’t go out tonight?” I ask, suddenly upset that he isn’t a mind reader and it’s all just a ploy to get me to do what he wants. “Are you in your car? I’m in my truck, I want you so bad,” he rasps. “I can’t believe you,” I say, my voice catching. “You’re manipulating me.”