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“Tell me, sugar. How does that feel?”
“Good, Chad. So good.”
He pushed his finger farther into her. “That?”
“Heaven.” She rasped against his cheek, kissing it, letting the day’s growth of his beard prickle her lips.
“Let me tell you something, Catie McCray.”
He helped her unbuckle and unsnap his jeans. Nibbling on her ear, he pushed her jeans down, and then his own. When the hard head of his cock pressed against her wet flesh, she shuddered.
“You’re mine. All mine.” He pushed his cock into her wet channel. “You’re not for Grayhawk or anyone else around here, you got that?”
She gasped as he withdrew and pushed into her again.
“Answer me, damn it.” His voice was raw. Untamed.
“Wh-What?”
“Who do you belong to, Catie?”
“You, Chad.”
“Whose bed are you going to sleep in from now on?” His thrusts became faster, more urgent.
“Y-Yours. Only yours.”
He plunged into her again, at the same time as his mouth came down on hers and assaulted her. They kissed in a frenzy of tongues and teeth, devouring each other, as though they’d been starved for years, centuries.
When he broke the kiss, Catie drew a deep breath, her passions rising, her skin tingling.
“That’s right, sugar. Come for me.” Chad’s fingers touched her swollen flesh as he continued to pound into her. “For me. Only for me.”
At his command, she shattered, her body quaking as the rapture took her through a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. From somewhere outside her body, she heard her own voice—or a husky, low imitation of it—echoing Chad’s name.
As she started her descent, Chad pushed harder, stronger, flooding her with new and vibrant sensations.
“Damn, you’re even tighter after you come, baby. Give me one…more…ah!”
He thrust into her so deep, that for a moment she thought they’d become one being. His whole body trembled against her, perspiration trickling down his cheeks and neck, dripping onto her neck, trailing down between her breasts. He stayed there for a precious moment, holding her, leaning into her, before he pulled away and pulled up his boxers and jeans.
He pulled a blue bandana out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here,” he said. “Clean yourself up.”
Then he left the stable.
What? Catie stood dumbfounded, her jeans and pant
ies still around her ankles, Chad’s hanky hanging limply from her fist.
This was really it?
Her cheeks heating, she wiped the evidence of their lovemaking from herself with a few quick swipes, pulled up her jeans, and fastened them.
Again, he’d taken her to the stars.
He’d made love to her with a passion so fierce, she wasn’t sure it was real. In her inexperience, she had nothing to compare it to. Was it always like this?
He’d said she was his.
