Owned by the Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men, #2)

by Gemma Weir

Just the way he touched me tonight gave me a glimpse of what he’d be like to fuck. His grip on me was firm, almost controlling. He moved me how he wanted me, used me, even as he gave me pleasure, but dominated me without all the cheesy ‘yes sir’ bullshit.

“You’re a firecracker aren’t you, little Peaches. The way you’re looking at me, it’s like you want to kill me and fuck me all at the same time. Maybe that’s the plan. Maybe that wet cunt of yours will end up being poisonous like the apple in the garden of Eden. Are you the test, baby, are you the ultimate temptation?” he asks quietly, his voice rough and low.

“I don’t know what you think this is, but this isn’t a hook up, it’s not a one time situation, or scratching an itch. I want you, you want me. I want to lick and fuck and own this cunt,” he growls, cupping my sex with his fingers, stroking my folds and parting me, before he pushes two fingers into me. “I want to fill it up with my cum every night and every morning, claiming you from the inside out. I’m not fucking about, Peaches, you’re mine and I want your belly full of my kid.”

“Yes, I do,” he replies, silencing me with a kiss. “Stop trying to fight this or I’ll get you so cum drunk you’ll do whatever I want you to, then I’ll fly you to Vegas and tie you to me legally. I’m not afraid to put a ring on it, Peaches. Ring on your finger, my baby in your belly, sounds fucking good to me.”

maybe us Barnett’s are only laidback until we meet the right woman, then we become paranoid, over the top cavemen nightmares.

I wanted to own her in the most basic way, by branding her from the inside with my seed.