Page 69 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

His lips find the hollow at my throat, tracing down to the valley between my breasts. Each kiss is a spark, lighting embers under my skin.

He captures a nipple between his teeth; I arch, hips lifting into the delicious bite. Then he slides lower, tongue flicking sensually across my belly before dipping beneath my hip.

“Cody, please…”

He presses his mouth to me, breath scorching, tongue flicking over my clit. My back bows off the bed, a raw moan ripping free.

He sinks in two fingers, curling them with precision as his mouth devours every cry. His hands clamp my thighs, holding me open, keeping me his.

“Come for me,” he growls, thick with need.

I shatter around his touch, I can’t help myself. White hot pulses rocking through my limbs, his name tumbling from my lips in a cry that echoes off the walls.

He keeps going until I’m gasping, tremoring against the silk restraints, every nerve alight with aftershocks.

But he isn’t done with me yet. I can tell by the dark hunger gnawing away at his eyes.

“Oh, Annie, you have no idea how good you look when you lose your mind.”

He flips me over, hips clutched in his hands, and the mattress bows as he positions himself behind me.

An unspooling anticipation turns my body to glass, every nerve so clear I throb with it. His fingers skim my spine, chasing goosebumps down my thighs.

He lifts my hips, and then his cock nudges at the slick, frantic seam of me, the slow, agonizing pressure making me arch and whimper.

He fills me in one, driving thrust, the force pressing my ribs to the wood slats of the headboard, and I’m pinned, utterly, beautifully trapped.

He doesn’t move at first. Just holds me, cock buried to the hilt, his whole body vibrating with the effort of restraint.

His hands dig bruises into my hips. His breath shudders against my shoulder blade.

I can feel his heartbeat jackhammering through him, hot, irregular, desperate, like he’s hanging on by a thread and the thread is made of my skin.

He starts moving, pulling out in excruciating inches, then slamming back in. The headboard rattles against the wall.

I can’t control the noises coming out of me—cries, curses, and sobs, laughter so high and wild it barely sounds human.

I beg, shameless and torn open, for more. Maybe for everything.

I don’t even remember how the sheets got untucked, but they snarl around my knees, trapping me, threatening to tear if I kick much harder.

My shoulders burn with the effort of holding me steady. I want to touch him. I want to claw at his hair, drag him down, scratch trails into his back.

He knows this.

He must.

Each time heat flares behind my eyelids and a fresh wave shudders through me, I know I’m going to come apart one segment at a time until there’s nothing left.

It’s electric, the current of want building and breaking but never dangerous, never not contained by the boundaries he’s staked out and the glaring, desperate checkpoints of my own consent.

“Fuck…”

I crash so hard my vision blue shifts, muscles quivering so bad my teeth tingle.

It’s impossible to know how long I’m blind with it, only that when sensation returns, Cody’s arms are wound around me so tight I can’t tell where I end and he starts.

“Annie, I can’t stop…”