Dear God, his voice was nearly as dangerous as whatever the hell he was doing with his fingers. He held me down and whispered the dirtiest praises as an orgasm ripped through my body, leaving me a quivering mess.
Before I’d caught my breath, he pulled his fingers free and brought them between us. I could see my arousal coating them, shining beneath the warm, yellow lights.
And then he put them in his fucking mouth, closing his eyes and humming like he’d just gotten a taste of warm peach cobbler.
It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but something ignited inside of me, begging for more of the earth-shattering orgasm he’d just given me.
I pushed him back, enjoying the sound of his quiet laughter as I reached for the button on his jeans. He held his hands up, watching me desperately struggle for it to come undone. “Easy there, killer,” he said, making quick work of the stupid thing and lifting his hips to shuffle out of them.
Then he worked on his shirt, going too slow for my liking. “Come on,” I said, tapping my foot against the floorboard.
“Someone’s impatient,” he muttered. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you good things come to those who wait?”
“Pfft. That’s just what people tell kids to make them behave, and we both know I never behaved.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, but?—”
“Bishop,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m sure whatever wisdom you’re about to spew is insightful, but a little more stripping and a little less talking would be ideal. My nipples are so hard, they could literally cut glass, and I really want you to fuck me so…” I tapped my wrist like I was checking the time. “Could you hurry it up?”
“You little shit,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head and exposing his stupidly hot body. Seriously, this man was ripped from years of working on the ranch. A large tattoo started at the top of his shoulder, dipped onto his chest, and went down his left arm. I’d seen glimpses of it before, but never the full work of art.
I reached out, tracing the black and grey lines of a beautiful landscape. A river ran through a set of trees, and what looked like a small cabin nestled on the banks. And, because I knew Bishop better than most, I made a little noise when I noticed the horse tied outside to a hitching post.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, pulling my hand back.
He dipped his head. “Thank you. It took fucking ages, but my artist is amazing. Couldn’t have done it without her. She’s truly brilliant.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but he placed his pointer finger over my lips and hushed me. “I thought you said you wanted less talking?”
“I do, but even I can appreciate a masterpiece.”
Bishop puffed out his chest. “I’ve been working hard on my?—”
I reached over and threw his penis pillow at his face. He caught it, smiling and tossing it down before grabbing my waist and lifting me toward him. I didn’t know how he could move me around so easily, as no other guy had before.
Then again… No other guy I’d been with had muscles like Bishop. Seriously, how was he so jacked? Was he chugging raw eggs in the morning? I think I’d seen that in a movie once. Was that still a thing?
Bishop sat me down on his knees, and I could make out the bulge beneath his snug blue briefs. His expectant gaze drifted down, lifting one brow as he said, “Take out my dick, killer. I wanna see it in your hand, wanna feel—” His words cut off with a hiss as I reached beneath the band and pulled him free.
“What the fuck, Bishop? How does this thing not get in the way of riding or working or, I don’t know, regular everyday activities?”
Honestly, I would've been worried about what he was working with if I hadn’t felt it when we almost hooked up four months ago. I mean, just because he was a bigger guy didn’t mean he automatically had a bigger dick.
“You’re good for an old man’s ego,” he said, leaning forward for a quick kiss. “Now slide down on me. Let me fill that tight little cunt.”
I saluted him before reaching down and notching him at my entrance. “Yes, daddy.”
I didn’t know if he groaned at my words or the fact his tip had slipped inside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, wait…” he said through gritted teeth. “Condom.”
Fuck was right because I didn’t have one, and I was willing to bet neither did he.
“I have an IUD,” I whispered. “And I get tested every six months. Rodeo circuit life,” I said when he looked at me in question.
“I don’t really wanna hear about that shit when it’s my dick you’re about to come on,” he panted.
“Are you jealous?” I asked, realizing I sounded just as breathless as he did.
“Of all the wasted years? Yeah, it’s not a fucking great reminder, Lennox,” he scoffed. “I’m fine with this if you are. Ihaven’t been with anyone since I was last tested, but I don’t wanna pressure you.”
