Page 27 of Oops I Fell For The Cowboy Next Door

He moves lower. Hooks his thumbs into my underwear and drags them down my legs. His mouth finds the inside of my thigh. Kisses up, slow, deliberate. My hips lift off the mattress. His hands push my thighs apart, spreading me open.

"Every morning," he murmurs against my skin. "For the rest of my life."

His tongue drags flat against my pussy, root to tip, and my head falls back against the pillow. He eats me with the focus of a man who has learned exactly how my body works and has no interest in rushing through it. Slow circles on my clit. Two fingers sliding inside, curling forward, pressing that spot that makes my vision blur. His other hand flat on my lower belly, holding me down.

The orgasm builds in waves. I grab the headboard with one hand, fist the sheets with the other. His name falls out of my mouth in fragments. He groans against me, the vibration pushing me over, and I come hard, thighs clamping around his ears, back bowing off the bed.

He doesn't stop. Works me through it until I'm trembling, then pulls back, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and crawls up my body. His cock is hard against my thigh. I reach down, wrap my hand around him, stroke once. He groans into my neck.

"Need you inside me." My voice is wrecked.

He pushes in. One stroke. Deep. My legs wrap around his hips, ankles locked at the small of his back. His forehead drops to mine. For a moment he holds still, buried to the hilt, breathing.

"You feel so fucking good." The words rumble through his chest into mine. "Every time. Like coming home."

He moves. Slow, deep thrusts that rock the headboard into the wall in a rhythm that matches my heartbeat. My nails drag down his back. His hand grips my thigh, angling my hips up, hitting deeper. The sound I make is loud in the quiet room, and he swallows it with his mouth.

"Harder." My voice against his lips.

He gives me harder. His hips snap, driving into me with a force that makes the bed frame creak. His thumb finds my clit, pressing circles in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation coils tight in my belly, building fast.

"Come for me, wife." Rough. Possessive. That voice. "Let me feel you."

The orgasm tears through me. I cry out, clenching around him, pulling him deeper. He follows with a groan that shakes his whole body, spilling inside me, my name on his lips. Raw. Reverent. Repeated.

We collapse.

His weight settles over me. Warm. Real. He's still inside me, softening slowly. His face buried in my neck. My fingers tracing lazy circles between his shoulder blades. Our breathing slows together.

After a long moment, he shifts. Rolls onto his side, pulling me against his chest. His hand finds my stomach again. Rests there.

"I'm gonna be late for chores," he says.

"Second time ever."

"Both times your fault."

"I accept full responsibility."

His chest shakes with a quiet laugh. His lips press against the top of my head.

Outside, the sun is coming up over the Bitterroots. Gold light spilling across the valley, catching the creek, setting the cottonwoods on fire. Through our bedroom window, I can see the path worn in the grass between the old cabin and the new house. The creek running bright in the morning light. The cattle already moving toward the water, unhurried, following a routine that predates both of us.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Mom:

Good morning sweetheart! How's my mountain girl?

I look at the test sitting on the bathroom counter. Look at the man beside me with his hand on my stomach, already protecting something he can't see. Look at the mountains through the window.

Me:

I have news. Call you in an hour?

Mom:

!!!!!!! I KNEW IT. CALLING NOW.