Page 43 of On the Mountain

His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out, and then he pushed away from me. “I’ll be back.” He jerked a coat off the hook and disappeared outside.

Hours crawled by without me knowing what Crow was doing. Again. And I missed him, which was silly. He was close, and he would be back. I was already too needy, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. Just like I couldn’t stop my thoughts, couldn’t stop wondering what I did wrong. Logically, I knew that was my mental illness talking. It wanted me to think everything was always my fault, that no one would ever stick around, that the loneliness would last forever. My meds helped a lot. I couldn’t function without them, but they didn’t make everything perfect. And I hadn’t been in therapy since I arrived in Tranquility. It had helped me deal with my thoughts and feelings, so I should look into it again.

Eventually, I went to the room I’d been sharing with Crow. One of his dirty shirts was on top of the hamper, so I grabbed it and took it with me as I lay in the bed. With the fabric to my face, I breathed him in, was lulled to sleep by the scent of the mountain, which was all Crow.

I didn’t wake up until there were strong hands on me, Crow’s fingers pressing into my hips. I opened my eyes and saw him leaning over me, his hair hanging down. When he saw his shirt in my hold, I swear his eyes became possessive…hungry.

He tugged my pants and underwear down, which immediately made blood rush to my groin. I expected him to flip me over and fuck me, and I would gladly take his dick at any time, but instead, he watched me, eyes never leaving mine as he bent forward and took my half-hard cock into his mouth.

“Fuck yes,” tumbled out of my mouth at the feel of him around me. It took me about two seconds before I was at full mast, the reality of this moment hitting me. Crow had never sucked dick before, but he had his mouth on mine. This was Crow trying to give me something. He felt guilty about denying me the chair earlier, so he found something he could give, and it was this.

I buried my fingers in the long strands of his hair, and Crow stilled. He’d liked it the one time I played with his hair, so I’d assumed he was okay with it. “Sorry.” I tried to let go, but Crow grabbed my wrist before I could and pressed my hand into his hair. Maybe I just surprised him? Sex for him had never really been intimate or with any kind of connection. In a lot of ways, it hadn’t been for me either, but I was used to people touching me, exploring me and allowing me to explore them in a way Crow hadn’t allowed before.

“I love how your hair feels,” I told him as he began sucking me again. He didn’t have the most skilled mouth I’d ever been inside, but it was my favorite mouth, regardless. My whole existence already felt completely wrapped up in Crow like this was always where I was supposed to be. It just took a lot of heartache for me to make it here.

He choked once, and I could tell it wasn’t on purpose, then used his hand to stroke me too. Crow raised his eyes so they were on me, and I couldn’t look away from this man between my legs with his wild, hungry eyes, flowing hair, a thick beard, and my dick in his mouth.

He let me continue to touch him, to play with his soft locks until my balls throbbed, they were so full of cum, and I knew I couldn’t hold off much longer. “I’m gonna come. Fuck, Crow, I’m gonna—”

He didn’t pull off when I thrust forward, back arched, and shot my release into his mouth.

“God, that felt good,” I said as I tried not to melt into the bed. “Did you like it?” I noticed paint on his hand. He was definitely painting when he disappeared.

“Yes,” he replied. “Especially swallowing you down, taking your cum into my body.”

“Jesus. You’re going to kill me talking like that. So hot, Crow, seriously.”

He pulled me to him, pushing my head so that my cheek rested against his chest, so I couldn’t look at him. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow what?”

“I teach you how to build a chair.”

I smiled into his chest.

Yes, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Crow

“How did you learn to build things?” Cyrus asked when we were in the shop the next morning. I was still trying to sort through all the confusion in my head about him—why I’d let him stay, why I had him in my shop, building chairs, so both of us could sit down, when one day he would leave.

Why the thought of him going felt…wrong. Like it wasn’t the way things were supposed to be or like the whole damn world would tilt off its axis when that happened.

“Why do you always try to get me to talk?”

My little lamb chuckled. “Because I like the sound of your voice…and I want to learn more things about you…and it would be awfully boring up here if we didn’t speak.”

There was a pinch in my chest at hearing he was already bored. Would Cyrus even last the winter? Would I have to make the dangerous trip down the mountain to take him home?

You wouldn’t have to take him home. You could refuse. You could keep him here.

Which would make me like Chosen, wouldn’t it, and there was nothing I wanted less than to be like him.

Talk to him. Make him want to stay.

“Some I learned…before.” Cyrus stilled beside me, a chair leg in his hands, but no longer sanding. I didn’t look at him as I continued to work. “We had to be useful…me even more than the others.”