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I reach out, my hands seeking any part of her I can have. I grip her breast, plumping it in my hand, stroking and tugging at her pink nipple.

Noisy gasps of pleasure fall from Delilah’s lips. “That’s right, darlin’. That tight little cunt’s begging for it, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes, yes…”

I give three hard, ruthless thrusts, and she shakes with each of them. Her knuckles are white as she grips the bar edge. She rocks her hips, moaning and panting and whining for more. How she looks is how she fucks. Sexy. Sensual. Tormenting.

Draping my body over hers, I drop close to her ear, growl, “You know how to make me fucking feral, don’t you?”

Her scent’s all over me. Baby oil and honey. Glitter dust kisses every inch of her creamy, bare skin. Unable to help myself, I dip my head and kiss her shoulder.

Desire tightens in the deepest part of me.

Sex. It’s just sex.

It has to be.

At this point, I’m not entirely convinced that Delilah wasn’t sent to this ranch to single-handedly wreck my life.

As I rut inside her like a fucking animal, I glide a hand to her clit and rub the soaked flesh. Her hips lift, and her breath catches.

I have her where I want her. On edge. Ready.

I pull out of her.

Whimpering, Delilah looks over her shoulder. “Cole,” she gasps, lips pouting. “What are you doing?”

“Need your eyes on me when you come, Delilah.”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly, and reaches out her arms as she turns away from the bar and toward me. It’s that goddamn gesture, that small act of trust, of innocence that makes my heart clench.

I lift her up my body. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I pin her to the wall. She stares at me. I stare at her. Then I kiss her ravenously.

We groan together, shaking and clinging to each other as I slam my cock into her. Christ. She’s so goddamn wet.

My hand runs up her breastbone to her throat, where I give it a small squeeze. “You come when I tell you to, you understand?”

Eyes wide, she nods. I release her throat.

I pound hard, brutally, with such force the photos on the walls shake, the bottles rattle. Her eyes flutter, and she arcs into me. As I thrust myself to the hilt, I hold her so close I could absorb her. Because I’m addicted to her. Her scent, her sounds, her softness. In the morning this feeling will fade, but tonight I want to hold it close as long as I can.

“Cole…” Her pink mouth opens and closes. She’s on the brink of climax. And I’m nearly there too.

“Come for me,” I order.

She grips my neck. “Cole, I’m going to…”

“Now, Delilah. Now.” I thrust. Hard. Letting her know I’m not just another man fucking her. Tonight, I’m her man. Hers.

Her body jerks as she comes, clamping down on my cock. Her big brown eyes fly open and latch on to mine. I watch in awe as her face floods with emotion. She releases a scream. “Fuck, fuck, oh, Cole, fuck…”

In seconds, I’m bellowing my release. A grunting growl that charges the air between us. “Fuck, Delilah.” My head drops forward, burrowing into the curve of her throat, torturing myself with her scent.

We stand there, swaying for a few seconds. The tasting room pulses with our uneven breaths, with the music from the speaker. Then Delilah unfolds her trembling legs from my hips. Gently, I settle her on the ground. I cup her cheek. “You good, darlin’?”

She smiles and nods. “You know how to make a girl happy, cowboy.”

Damn if that doesn’t fuck up my breathing.