“Kiss me damnit,” I say—voice breaking, hands fisting his shirt.
He does—deep, claiming, like he’s making up for every second we lost. His hands slide down, gripping my ass, pulling me flush against him. I moan into his mouth—loud, needy—legs wrapping tighter around his waist. The world narrows to this: his mouth on mine, his body hard against me, the sun warm on my back, grass under my bare feet, Tennessee air thick with heat and promise.
Chapter 39
Love in the wild
Cole
The way she looks right now, bare feet, sundress hiked up around her thighs, the sun hitting her skin beautifully while she’s laying in the grass next to me—makes my chest feel too small to hold everything inside it. This is real. This is all I need for the rest of my life. Just her and I and this ranch. No more silence. No more fear. No more almost-losing her. The grass is still warm from the day, soft blades brushing my bare arms, the faint smell of wildflowers and sun-heated earth mixing with her—vanilla, sweat, us.
“What are you looking at, cowboy?” she asks, voice soft and teasing, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen from kissing.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” I say, looking straight in her eyes, voice low, rough, more plea than order.
“Not going to happen,” she whispers back. “You’d have to kill me before I’d ever leave you.”
“Damn, dark,” I say, a small laugh breaking through the ache in my throat.
She laughs loudly, that bold, bright sound I love, the one that cuts through every wall I ever built. It echoes across the pasture, startling a bird from a nearby tree. The sound settles something deep inside me.
“Get on top of me,” I say, biting my lip, voice dropping to gravel.
She smiles, slow, wicked and crawls over to me, straddling my hips. Feeling all her weight in my lap gets my dick hard instantly, thick and aching again, pressing up against her through my jeans. Her thighs grip me, soft and strong, the heat of her core right there, already wet from before. I can feel every curve of her settling over me, heavy and perfect, exactly where she belongs.
I slowly pull her tits out of her dress, massive, hanging there, full and soft in the golden light. I suck one, deep, hungry, then the other, tongue swirling around the hard peak while she moans and grinds slowly on me, hips rolling in that way that makes my vision blur.
I lean back onto the grass—cool blades against my shoulders, sun warm on my face—and let her take control. She undoes my jeans with quick fingers, pulls my thickness out—gripping it hard in her hands, stroking once, twice, making me groan low in my throat.
“Let’s make a baby,” she snickers—half-joking, half-serious—eyes sparkling with mischief and heat.
“You got to marry me first,” I growl, hands sliding up her thighs, squeezing the plush softness there.
“Tomorrow?” she teases, voice breathy.
“Tonight,” I say, dead serious, thumb brushing the crease where her thigh meets her hip.
She laughs loudly, throat exposed, sunlight catching in her hair. Then she bites her lip, lifts her body off, angles me right into her entrance, hot, wet, ready and slides down slowly, feeling all of me inside her.
“Oh my god, you feel so good,” she moans, voice breaking, head tipping back, hands braced on my chest.
She pulls her dress completely off—tossing it aside—naked now, soft belly, full breasts, hips swaying as she starts to move. She’s naked in the pasture, in nature, under the open sky. She’s a dream. She’s mine.
I love her so much. I love the way her thighs tremble when she rides me. I love the way her tits bounce with every roll of her hips.
I love the soft curve of her belly pressing against me when she leans forward. I love the freckles across her nose that only show up in sunlight. I love the way her hair falls wild over her shoulders when she loses control. I love how she looks at me, like I’m everything.
I love how she feels, tight, wet, perfect, made for me.
“I love you,” I say, voice rough, raw, finally free. “I love every inch of you.”
“I love every inch of you,” she says, moaning as she grinds up and down my cock, sliding in and out, slow at first, then faster, chasing the edge.
She starts riding harder now, thighs flexing, breasts bouncing heavy, hands braced on my chest for leverage. I’m grabbing her ass, spreading her cheeks as she rides, thrusting up to meet her—hard, deep, the wet slap of our bodies loud in the quiet pasture.
“Yeah baby, take all of me,” I growl, voice thick with need. “Ride that cock. Show me how much you want it. Show me how much you love it.”
Her moans get louder, broken, desperate, head thrown back, hair spilling like dark silk. I can feel her clenching, fluttering, right on the edge.
