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Suddenly, I was sideways across his lap, straddling one hard thigh, my back against his chest and my legs draped over his. The shift left my ruined jeans gaping open and my bare, dripping pussy exposed to the cool air and to him.

I barely had time to catch my breath before his hands attacked his belt. The buckle clanged, the zipper pulled down, and he shoved his jeans just low enough to free himself.

Of course he wasn’t wearing briefs.

His cock sprang out, thick and hard, the broad head already slick and shining with precum. The sight of him stroking his massive length made my spent core clench all over again.

“Fuck, Sienna,” he rasped as his fist pumped fast and rough. His eyes were locked on my spread thighs and the swollen, glistening mess he’d made of me. “Look at this pretty pussy. Still dripping for me. Still begging.”

His hips jerked up into his fist, his abs flexing hard under his shirt as he stroked himself faster, chasing his release.

“I’m going to paint you, baby,” he growled in a needy voice. “Mark this ruined little cunt so you feel me on you all fucking day. Because you’re mine, Sienna. Every perfect inch of you is mine.”

One more stroke, and he came with a groan, thick ropes of hot cum streaking across my bare folds, splattering over my clit, dripping down into the torn opening of my jeans. He aimed every pulse, milking himself dry until I was coated, claimed, his release mixing with mine in a sticky mess that marked me as his.

He shuddered through the last of it, and his forehead dropped to my shoulder, both of us breathing like we’d run miles.

For a long moment we just stayed like that, wrapped together on Dante’s back, everything quiet except for our ragged breaths. His arms stayed locked around me, tight and protective, like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go.

Mine, a dark voice whispered in my head, but somehow it felt like a good thing.

Eventually he stirred, pressing a soft kiss to the mark he’d left on my neck. “Hold on, baby.”

He tucked himself away, zipped up with one hand, then guided Dante with a gentle nudge of his heels. Dante ambled the short distance back to the barn like nothing wild had just happened on his back, calm and steady as ever.

When we reached the cool shade inside, he swung down effortlessly, then reached up for me. His big hands gripped my waist, lifting me off the saddle as if I weighed nothing. My legs were jelly, though, and my thighs were trembling as my boots hit the ground. I had to lean into him to stay upright.

He steadied me instantly, pulling me against his chest, one palm smoothing down my spine while the other tangled in my hair. I glanced over at Dante, who was already nosing at some hay like the perfect saint he was.

“Sorry, buddy,” I mumbled faintly with cheeks burning. “I, uh…didn’t mean to use you like that.”

Sterling’s low chuckle rumbled against me. He tilted my chin up, and his blue eyes gleamed with wicked amusement and something softer. Then he crushed his mouth to mine in a hard, claiming kiss, pouring every ounce of that obsessive hunger into it until my toes curled in my boots.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed my swollen bottom lip. “Don’t apologize to him,” he murmured. “He just helped me teach you who you belong to.”

Sterling scooped me up bridal-style before I could sass back and carried me toward a back room like I was something precious.

The door creaked as he shouldered it open, the scent of leather polish and soap wrapping around us. He didn’t stop until we reached a long wooden table in the center that was scarred from years of use, covered with a folded horse blanket for padding.

He laid me down gently, like I might break, but his eyes were anything but gentle. They burned as he stepped between my thighs and pushed the ruined halves of my jeans wider apart.

I was still trembling from what we’d just done, and his cum was cooling in thick streaks over my pussy, mixing with my own release in a glistening mess.

He grabbed a clean-looking rag from the stack of folded cloths nearby, but he didn’t use it yet. Instead, he just stared at me reverently as though he were memorizing the sight of me marked by him.

“Fuck, Sienna,” he rumbled thickly. “Look at you. So pretty like this. Dripping with us.”

Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, and his hands slid under my ass to tilt me up to his mouth.

The first slow lick dragged his tongue through the mess, and I knew he was tasting his cum, my arousal…all of it. I gasped in shock, my back arching off the table. “Sterling⁠—”

He hummed in pleasure and licked again, deeper this time, swirling over my swollen clit before dipping lower to gather every drop. My hands flew to his hair, and my fingers tangled in the dark strands while my hips rolled helplessly into his mouth.

Sterling pulled back just enough to look up at me, and I gaped at his shining lips, that wicked smirk devastating across his handsome face. “Love the taste of us, baby,” he murmured. “Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever had.”

My vision blurred at the edges. I might actually faint.

We hadn’t even had sex yet, and already this cowboy had given me the most erotic, insane, body-shaking encounters of my entire life.