Page 40 of Cowboy Mountain Man

The sounds he makes are no longer words. His face a picture of bliss. Eyes rolled back, and eyelids squeezed shut. Trying to maintain control.

Good luck, Cowboy.

“How’s your shoulder?” I ask, looking up at him through my lashes.

“What shoulder?” he murmurs, looking down at me, his pupils blown wide.

“Need more of you,” I gasp, swallowing him, savoring his heat and firmness, the way he slides down the back of my throat.

I swallow again.

His entire body goes rigid.

He’s close. So fucking close.

All I can think about is his flavor, taking all of him.

His hands squeeze my shoulders, and he freezes. “Need inside you, Hope.”

I look up, throat tightening. He inches back until he pops free of my lips.

“But I really want to taste you. Swallow you,” I say breathlessly.

His chest rumbles, and his hand slides to my cheek. “Then you’re gonna have to stay with me.”

“For how long?” I ask with a wicked grin.

“Long as I make you happy.” Something raw—even ardent—threads his words.

“That could be a very long time, Cowboy.”

“What I’m counting on.”

He settles between my legs, and my hips slide up, demanding. He teases through my folds with his tip, then stops for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Your pussy’s too damn good, Darlin’. But I gotta take you there first.”

I moan as he slides inside, slowly, incrementally. I feel every inch. His hand finds my hip, sliding lower until he has my thigh hooked over his forearm.

“God,” I wince when he drives home.

Too much.

Yet I want more.

“You okay?” he asks, stilling over me. His eyes search mine.

“You’re too big for me.”

He inches back immediately. But I grab his ass, pulling him back into me.

His forehead furrows, confusion flashing.

“I’ll figure it out,” I gasp, finding his mouth and tasting myself there. “Now, fuck me, Harlan. Please.”

His hips find a wicked rhythm, our mouths still locked as he drives into me again and again. And I lose my everloving mind.

I gush.