Knocked up by the Mountain Man (Silver Ridge Mountain Men)

13. Clara

13

CLARA

W hat the hell is wrong with me?

I sit on the edge of Thomas’s bed, my hands trembling as I pull the blankets up to his chin. His soft, even breaths a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. He looks so peaceful, clutching his teddy bear, unaware of the turmoil that erupted in the living room just moments ago. I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and linger there a moment longer, drawing strength from his innocence.

Why did I kiss Beau?

The question echoes in my mind, relentless and accusing. My heart is still pounding, each beat reminding me of the impulsive act. To make it worse, Beau is still out there, in the living room, probably feeling as bewildered as I am.

It all started when I saw Beau laughing with Thomas. It was such a simple thing, two people enjoying each other’s company, but it was like a switch flipped inside me. The sight of them together, laughing so naturally, scared me.

Beau and Thomas, together, looking like father and son.

The resemblance is uncanny, and the realization hits me like an arrow through the heart. I’ve never considered the possibility of telling Beau the truth, but in that moment, it felt like my carefully constructed world was on the verge of collapsing.

I stand up, smoothing the blankets one last time, and walk out of Thomas’s room, closing the door quietly behind me. My steps are hesitant as I make my way back to the living room and to the hurricane I had left behind. Beau is there, standing by the window, his back to me. He turns as he hears me enter, his eyes searching mine for answers.

The silence between us is thick, a tangible tension that I can’t seem to cut through.

Beau’s gaze is intense, filled with questions he hasn’t yet asked. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the weight of what just happened pressing down on me.

“Beau,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, but he interrupts me, stepping closer.

He doesn’t say a word.

Instead, he looks at me with an expression that is both confused and tender. My breath catches in my throat, and before I can think of what to say next, he closes the distance between us. His hands gently cup my face, his touch warm and steadying. For a moment, I feel frozen.

No, we can’t do this.

We have to talk…

But before I can find the words, Beau’s lips are on mine again, and this time, there’s a desperation in his kiss that mirrors the chaos inside me. I melt into him, my resolve crumbling, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away.

Beau’s lips are soft yet insistent, moving against mine with a fervor that sends shivers down my spine. His hands slide from my face to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the moment. My own hands find their way to his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. His mouth is hungry, passionate, as though trying to make up for lost time, to convey years of unspoken words and hidden desires in this one moment.

Beau’s tongue grazes my lower lip, seeking entrance, and I part my lips for him, a soft moan escaping me as his tongue meets mine. The sensation is intoxicating, a heady mix of warmth and desire that makes my knees weak. He tastes of mint and something indescribably him, a flavor I realize I’ve been craving without knowing it.

His hands are roaming now, one sliding down my back, pressing me firmly against him, the other tangling in my hair. I press my whole self up against him, my body responding to every touch, every movement. The world outside ceases to exist; it’s just the two of us, caught in this whirlwind of desire and unspoken emotions.

Beau’s hands begin to tug at the hem of my t-shirt, and I lift my arms, helping him pull it over my head.

The cool air hits my skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of his touch.

He lets the top fall to the floor, his eyes trailing over me with a mix of reverence and desire, like he still wants me, even after three long years.

I could stop this.

I know I should put a halt to it right now.

But I don’t.

I can feel my own hands shaking slightly as I reach for the buttons on his shirt, my fingers fumbling in my haste to undress him. Our movements are urgent yet tender, as if we’re both afraid this moment might slip away. Beau’s shirt joins mine on the floor, and I run my hands over his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath my palms. He’s stronger, these days, thicker. He shivers at my touch, and I revel in the power of knowing he wants this as much as I do. He leans in to kiss me again, his mouth hot and demanding against mine. My fingers move to the waist band of his jeans, and I begin to unbutton them, my breath catching in my throat with anticipation.

I can’t believe we’re here again.

I can’t fucking believe how good it feels.

Beau follows my lead, his hands deftly undoing the clasp of my bra and letting it slide down my arms. The feeling of his hands on my bare skin feels overwhelming, each touch igniting a fire within me.

We shed the rest of our clothing in a desperate frenzy, the air between us thick with desire. It’s familiar and new all at once, an exhilarating blend of comfort and excitement. As Beau’s hands explore my body, mapping out every curve and contour, I realize how much I’ve missed this… missed him .

He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the couch, and lays me down gently, his body pressing against mine. Our kisses grow more fervent, and desperate, as we give into the temptation that has been simmering beneath the surface from the moment I got here. He might have looked at me with hatred in his eyes, but that was just hiding this .

Beau’s mouth moves down my neck, his kisses trailing fire along my skin. I arch my back, a soft gasp escaping my lips as he reaches my chest. He pauses for a moment, his breath warm against my skin, and then his mouth closes around my nipple.

A sharp jolt of pleasure shoots through me as I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him close. His tongue teases and circles, alternating between gentle flicks and firm, insistent sucks. I can’t help the moan that escapes me, my body responding to every movement of his mouth.

Beau’s hands are not idle; one grips my hip, holding me steady against him, while the other slowly trickles down my body, seeking for what I so desperately want him to discover. But he’s teasing me, giving me nothing just yet. Instead, he switches to my other breast, giving it the same attention, and I feel my body tremble beneath him. The sensation of his mouth on my nipple and his hand exploring my skin is intoxicating, driving me to the edge of control.

I pull him up, our lips meeting in another searing kiss. The taste of my own skin mingles with his, and it only heightens the desire coursing through me. My hands wander down his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath my touch, and I press him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me.

Fuck, it’s no wonder no one else compares to this man.

He’s just too much!

Beau’s hand finally slips between my thighs, and I gasp against his mouth, my body leaning into his touch. He glides his calloused fingers against my velvety soaking wet slit, making my head spin with need. His fingers move with a knowing precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me. I can feel the tension building, a coil tightening in my core, and I know I’m on the brink of losing myself completely.

“Beau,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need.

His name on my lips both a plea, and a declaration. He responds by pressing a kiss to my lips, his fingers never faltering in their rhythm.

Beau’s kisses trail down my body, each one sending a shiver of anticipation through me. When he reaches my hips, he pauses and looks up at me, his gaze filled with desire and tenderness. I finally start to see him again. The sweet boy I had known for my whole life; which is why when his hands gently part my thighs, I let them open willingly. I’m rewarded with a rush of warmth which spreads through me as he settles between them.

His breath is hot against my skin, and I can feel my pulse quickening in anticipation. Beau’s lips find the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his kisses slow and deliberate, driving me wild with need. He takes his time, building the anticipation until I’m aching for more.

I’ve never experienced this with him before, and I have to admit, I can’t wait.

When his mouth finally finds my hyper sensitive clit, a wanton cry escapes me. His tongue moves rapidly, tracing patterns over my nub in a way that has me gripping the cushions beneath me. He alternates between gentle, teasing licks and firm, insistent strokes, each movement driving me closer to the edge. I can’t catch my breath, not when he’s tasting me like this. Like a mad man on an mission. It’s an onslaught of bliss.

Beau’s hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he continues to fuck me with his tongue. The intensity of his focus, the way he seems to know exactly what I need, leaves me breathless. His tongue circles and flicks, his lips sucking gently, and I feel the pleasure building, a sensation that threatens to overwhelm me.

I can barely think, can barely form a coherent word as he brings me closer and closer to the brink.

My moans fill the room, and I can feel desire twisting tighter and tighter within me. Every nerve in my body is alight with sensation, every touch sending sparks of pleasure through me.

“Beau,” I gasp out, my voice trembling with the intensity of what I’m feeling. He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire. The sight alone is enough to push me over the edge.

With a final, skillful flick of his tongue, the wave crashes over me, and I’m lost in the pleasure that washes through me.

My body tenses, then releases, trembling with the force of burning hot bliss, shattering me from the inside out. But even as I buck and scream, Beau doesn’t stop, his tongue continuing its rhythmic movements, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until I’m left breathless and spent.

Even then, he moves back up my body, pressing gentle kisses to my skin as I careen down from the high. When he reaches my lips, I kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue. I didn’t know how fucking sexy it could be to taste myself on someone like this.

But then everything he does is sexy.

This is still Beau Marshall after all.

I pull him closer, our bodies pressing together, the aftermath of my release tingling through me. His hands continue to explore my burning hot skin, as if he’s memorizing every inch of me. I can feel the hardness of him against my thigh, a reminder of his own need, and I can’t wait to bring him the same pleasure he’s just given me.

With a swift motion, I push him back against the couch, reversing our positions. His eyes widen slightly in surprise but quickly darken with intense need as he watches me. I straddle him, my thighs on either side of his hips, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against my core.

I lean down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, my hands running through his hair. I can feel his hands on my hips, guiding me, his fingers dig into my skin with a desperate need. I shift my hips, grinding against him, eliciting a low groan from deep in his chest. The sound sends a thrill through me, and I can’t help but smile against his lips.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. The intensity in them takes my breath away.

“Good,” I reply, my own voice trembling with the anticipation of what’s to come.

I reach between us, my hand wrapping around his length, feeling the heat and hardness of him. Beau’s breath hitches, his grip on my hips tightening as I guide him to my entrance. I take my time, teasing him, enjoying the way his body responds to my touch.

When I finally lower myself onto him, it’s a slow, deliberate movement. The sensation is overwhelming, he’s so big I have to stretch around him, which makes my heart thunder through my whole body. Beau’s hands grip my hips, steadying me, and I can feel his body tense beneath me as he tries to maintain control.

“God, you feel incredible,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. I move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside me, the friction building with each movement. The sensation is electric, a fire that spreads through me, igniting every nerve ending. “Fuck, Clara…”

Beau’s hands guide my movements, his fingers dig into my skin with a desperation that matches my own. I quicken the pace, riding him with an urgency that leaves us both breathless. The room is filled with the echoing sounds of our bodies slapping together.

I lean forward, my hands bracing on his chest, and he meets my movements with thrusts of his own. The pleasure builds with each motion, a swelling that leaves us both teetering on the edge. I can feel the pressure of bliss within me again, the promise of release just within reach.

Beau’s hands move to my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending jolts of joy through me. The combined sensation is too much, and I feel myself teetering on the brink of yet another orgasm. I look down at him, his gaze locked on mine. The intensity there shoves me over the edge, I fall fast and I fall hard.

Harder than ever before.

With a cry, I come undone, my body trembling with the force of my release. The orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave, relentless and consuming. It starts as a deep, pulsating throb at the center of my being, spreading outward in waves of ecstasy that ignites every nerve ending. Electric sparks shoot through me, setting my skin ablaze with sensation.

“Fuck, Clara…” Beau’s voice is ragged, his words a desperate plea that only adds to the intensity. His hands grip me tighter, anchoring me as I surrender to the torrent of pleasure. I ride the crest of sensation, my body moving with an urgency born of overwhelming need.

The room spins with the intensity of the moment. My body quakes, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through me. As Beau nears the climax, his breaths become ragged and uneven, each exhale a desperate gasp. His muscles tense, every fiber of his being straining with the intensity of the moment. When release finally overtakes him, a deep, guttural groan escapes his lips, and his body shudders with the force of his climax.

His hands grip me tighter, fingers digging into my skin as he surrenders to the waves of pleasure crashing over him. The sensation is electric, sending tremors through him that seem to reverberate in the air around us. For a brief, breathtaking moment, it’s as if the world stands still, and there’s nothing but the raw, primal connection between us.

I collapse against his chest, our skin slick with sweat, our hearts pounding in sync. His arms wrap around me, holding me close as we both come down from the high.

For a moment, we lie tangled together, our breathes slowing as we come down from the high. Beau’s hands stroke my back gently, a tender gesture that makes my heart swell with emotion.

In the post orgasmic bliss, I feel a sense of warmth and contentment I haven’t felt in a long time. But as the minutes pass, reality starts to creep back in, bringing with it a rush of anxiety. Wyatt could be back at any moment. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I realize what I have to do.

Reluctantly, I push myself up and away from Beau. He looks up at me, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice still rough from our earlier exertions.

I bite my lip, my heart heavy with the words I need to say. “Beau, you need to go.”

His expression shifts from confusion to hurt. “What? Why?”

I stand up, gather my scattered clothes and quickly start getting dressed. “Wyatt could come back any minute. If he finds you here...”

Beau sits up, running a hand through his tousled hair. “But I thought we…”

“I know,” I interrupt, my voice trembling. “But we still have to be careful, right?”

He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Finally, he nods, understanding dawning in his expression. “Okay. I get it.”

I feel a pang of guilt as I watch him gather his clothes and get dressed. This isn’t how I wanted things to go. But I can’t risk Wyatt finding out, not when everything is so precarious.

We still have so many issues between us.

One burning hot moment isn’t going to change that.