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Katie could get used to this.
* * *
Antonio had never cleaned the stalls so fast in his life, knowing what was waiting for him when he went inside his house. He washed up in the sink outside tossing some water onto his face and cleaning his hands, running them through his hair, combing it into something that resembled submission.
He had a woman to make love to.
Stalking to his house, he ignored all the things that needed to be done and went straight inside and into the kitchen where his woman waited for him by the table.
She was just setting down the last plateful of fluffy scrambled eggs and toast smeared with avocado and some spices sprinkled on top.
“Looks delicious, but it’s gonna have to wait,” he growled just as he wrapped his hand around her waist and tugged her to him to taste her mouth again.
Soft and sweet, she was everything he’d ever wanted. He ate her whimpers as he devoured her mouth, holding her body against hers.
God, he’d been scared to tell her those things in the barn. Scared she’d say she was still sad and thinking about whether her life was worth living. He didn’t think he could survive if she tried to do that again. The news about her miscarrying had been terrible, the worst. But a baby was something that should be made with love, not whatever was happening to them in that moment. It was something they could try again for when they were ready. But if she was thinking suicidal thoughts, thoughts about not being here anymore, he would just wither away and die, like his mother had. Knowing she was alive and away from him would be hard, but knowing she was totally gone was a nightmare he didn’t think he’d wake from.
He told her all of this with the life-affirming kiss he gave her, and she responded with what he needed.
Hands around her thighs, he lifted, wrapping her legs around his waist, supporting her weight with one hand on her ass. She wrapped her arms around him and went along for the ride to his bedroom, where he lay her on the bed, following her down and covering her with his body.
Burying his hands into her hair, he leaned his forehead on hers.
“Say you won’t leave me. That you’re mine,” he demanded on a desperate growl.
Her eyelids lowered and she nipped his bottom lip before answering. “I’m yours, and the kitchen needs paint, so I’ll stay.”
He chuckled as he kissed her, devouring her lips and relaxing on top of her.
“Whatever color you want, Cariño.”
She looked so happy here. When she’d first walked into the barn, he’d lost his breath a bit, a hitch in his chest taking it all. She looked so at home in jeans and a t-shirt, every bit as comfortable as she had on the city streets, dressed up and classy.
Right now, the flush in her cheeks was unmistakable and went along with the desire shining from her eyes. His cock twitched in his jeans at the memory of her pussy squeezing it as she climaxed, her breathy moans hitching in the hotel room when he first lost control and pounded inside her like a maniac.
He wondered what it would feel like when he went slowly.
She sat up and took off her shirt, revealing a white lacy bra that had him swallowing hard. The lace cups didn’t hide much, and the dark brown of her areola peeked through the lace.
“So fucking beautiful. Let me see the rest.” His words were choked, hoarse with need, and he moved as she complied, smirking as she unbuttoned her pants and shimmied them off.
“You too,” she said and actually sounded shy.
He was afraid if he got naked now, he wouldn’t go as slow as he wanted to, so he compromised with the quick removal of his shirt.
He lay back on top of her, relishing her squirm when their hot skin touched. She was so warm and her skin so smooth, he wanted to rub all over her like a cat in heat.
He dragged his skin down hers as he kissed a trail around that delectable bra teasing her nipples through the lace. Stiff peaks, they begged for attention. One hand tugged down her bra cup until her tit spilled out. He played with it, while he laved the other with his tongue, rubbing the wet lace against it.
She writhed under him, arching up against him, rubbing against his zipper, which was notched between her legs when he curved his body into hers. He was so damn hard, he was about to explode, but he was determined to hold back. Go slow.
Her hands in his hair were tugging, shooting tiny pinpricks of pleasure pain rocketing through his body.
“God, I want more. Get inside me.”
When he looked at her face, her eyes were glittering with need. He used his free hand to rub her mound through her matching lace panties. Slipping them to the side, he fingered her, feeling the nub erect and ready, before dipping a finger inside to feel her slippery heat. Her hips arched into his hand, and he slid in and out of her, rubbing the heel of his hand on her clit while she moaned her appreciation.
Then he remembered last night and how he’d had to stop because of condoms. His movements froze.
