Page 77 of Slow Hands Cowboy

She wasn’t big on self-pleasure, mainly because she had been living with Alan for years now, and it was hard to find moments alone. She had a vibrator, which she liked because it was nice and efficient, so when she did decide she needed to get off, she could do it without a whole lot of time or hassle.

But touching herself like this, exploring herself with her own hand while he looked at her? That was a kind of hedonistic decadence that she had never even fantasized about, and now here she was, tossed into the middle of it.

And loving it.

Even though that sharp knife’s edge of shame was still there, pressing itself to her throat, it somehow managed to be more erotic than awful. And she wanted to celebrate that. By touching herself some more.

And then she looked down as she stroked herself, then pushed her own finger deep inside, flexing her hips up off the bed.

Only then did she dare look back up at him.

There was a fire in his eyes unlike anything she had ever seen before. His jaw was clenched tight, the veins in his neck standing out, the intensity there, shocking. Glorious.

His own hand was moving up and down over his length, slow and measured, almost more like he was keeping himself in check, rather than pleasuring himself.

She swallowed hard, then with her free hand reached up and touched her own breast, squeezing it before sliding her thumb down over her nipple.

“Fuck,” he said, taking a step toward her.

And she felt like she had won something far greater than any battle. She felt like she had won a war. Because as much as she had wanted him for all these years, he wanted her too. As much as she had despised that desire, he probably had too, and now here they were, giving in to it.

And it was glorious. Absolutely glorious.

She arched her hips up off the bed, and he suddenly moved quickly, practically diving toward his nightstand and jerking the drawer open. He grabbed a strip of condoms and tore one off impatiently. Then he wrenched the package open, rolling the condom over his hard length.

“I hope you’re ready,” he growled.

“Yes,” she said.

And before she could take in another breath, he was down over her, kissing her fiercely as he positioned himself over her body, as he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her hips up off the mattress, positioned himself at the entrance to her body and thrust in deep and hard.

She cried out, arching up against him, sensitive nipples brushing against the crisp hair on his chest, sending an electric shock through her, even as his glorious cock filled her to capacity.

She had never been with a man this big before, and it was... a revelation.

She saw stars.

When he began to move, it was undeniable, all glorious friction as she felt every inch of him thrust, then retreat.

She whimpered as he claimed her, over and over again. Over and over again. Cried out as he worked dark magic deep inside of her, as he fulfilled every last fantasy she’d never quite let herself have.

And suddenly she felt like she was spiraling. Like panic had burrowed its way into her breast. Because how long would this last? Would they have time to explore every glorious thing? She had always thought she wasn’t sexual, but this was sexual, and so was she. She didn’t want it to end. She wanted time. Time to actually let herself have the fantasies. Time to try it all.

She wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him thrusting into her mouth, wanted him to take her from behind, wanted to ride him like the cowgirl she’d never been.

She was suddenly inundated with the overwhelming variety of her need, and the sense that she would have to devote herself entirely to being his to reach the end of it.

And who had that kind of time?

Certainly not somebody running a mayoral campaign. Certainly not someone trying to outrun the reputation of her mother, a woman who had given up all of her responsibilities for sex.

And Addison suddenly understood.

That was the very worst part.

She suddenly understood why a person might do that. Why they might be powerless to do anything else.

And then her thoughts were lost again, blown away on the wind of her need as each thrust of his body inside hers carried her higher, faster than the one before.