“Tex,” I moan against his lips.
He breaks the kiss. He trails his mouth down my jaw. He tugs at my earlobe with his teeth. I feel his breath, hot and ragged.
The scent of him fills my nose. Leather. Hay. Sweat. And underneath it all, the sharp tang of Alpha arousal.
It coats my throat. It makes my head swim.
“I want you,” he growls, the words raw and strained. “I want you so bad it hurts.”
“Then take me,” I whisper.
He pulls back, his eyes dark and dilated with a hunger I can feel. With a firm grip on my hand, he leads me away from the tree and lowers me onto a bed of daisies.
The ground is soft beneath me, flowers cradling my back as the scent of crushed petals rises in a sweet, heavy cloud.
Rolling on top of me, he pins me with his weight, though his forearms take the brunt of it. He stares down, a stray lock of hair falling over his forehead as he searches my expression.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
His next kiss is different, charged with purpose. His hands find the hem of my shirt and slide underneath, his rough palmsskating up my ribs in a way that makes me arch into him, desperate for his touch to go higher.
But he has other plans.
Backing away to sit on his heels, his gaze drops to my waist. His fingers find the belt buckle, and the metal clinks in the silence before the leather is pulled free and tossed aside.
The button of my jeans pops open under his thumb. Then, the sound of the zipper sliding down rips through the quiet of the clearing.
“Tex,” I moan again. I can’t help it. My body is on fire.
He leans down. He nuzzles my neck. He breathes me in.
“Your scent,” he says. His voice is strained. “It’s driving me crazy.”
He slides his hand down, pushes past the open waistband. He slips his fingers under the fabric of my panties.
He groans. “You’re so wet.”
I am. I can feel it. The slick has been building since he kissed me in the truck. It’s pooling between my legs.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “So wet for me.”
He slides a finger through the slick. He finds my entrance, circles it. He doesn’t push in. He teases.
I cry out. My hips buck off the ground.
He smiles against my neck. He kisses the sensitive spot below my ear.
I reach for him, finding his belt, and fumble with the buckle. My hands are shaking.
I finally get it undone and unzip his jeans.
I reach inside. My fingers trace the outline of him through his boxers.
He is hard. Huge. The head of his cock beads with moisture.
I wrap my hand around him and squeeze.
