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Now what was he going to do? Tell her she's got a horny husband?
She reached out, resting her hand on his forearm. The soft, languid look in her gentle green eyes did him in. He didn't know how to handle this situation. He had been in many gunfights, stared down many a man, but never had he been as nervous as he was at this moment. He had always been better with actions than with words. He hoped she would understand.
He kept a steady hand on the reins while his other hand reached over, took hers, and slowly brought it to rest between his legs. His hand remained covering hers and he squeezed it gently.
Prudence thought to pull away at first, so startled was she. But his hand was firm and his manhood warm and hard. She clearly understood his problem.
"You're so damn desirable. I can't stop thinking about you."
"You desire me?" she asked, surprised by the strength of his passion.
"Desire isn't a sufficient enough word for what I feel."
She didn't move her hand and neither did he. "Tell me how you feel, Zac?"
"Like a wild man, Pru," His answer held no hesitancy. "You would be frightened if I told you the things I wanted to do to you."
"I don't fear you, Zac."
"You should. At this moment, you should." He squeezed her hand more tightly over him, and she felt the strength of him, so hot and alive to her touch.
"I can't," she whispered and stopped herself from adding I love you. Instead, she asked, "When do we stop for the noon meal?"
He looked at her long and hard. She didn't turn away from his stare, she matched it. She was brazenly offering herself to him, without any qualms or doubts.
"About fifteen minutes or so, up a piece, there's a stream the horses can drink from."
"Good," she said, turning her head to watch the path, leaving her hand to rest against him.
It was the longest twenty minutes of Zac's life. He saw to the horses, while Prudence gathered some food and wandered toward the shade and solitude of a large weeping willow tree not far from the stream.
As he approached, she patted the spot on the wool blanket she had spread out for them to share. "I have cider, bread, and cheese, if you're hungry."
He laughed at the way she hastily added the last statement. "I'm not hungry for food, Pru."
"I didn't think you'd be."
His hand reached out, cupping the side of her face, and she turned into it, kissing his warm palm. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "You've changed, Prudence Agatha Winthrop."
"Stewart," she corrected. "I told you I’m—"
"Adaptable," he finished, laughing, drawing her to him and beneath him all in one swift motion. He focused on her eyes as he unbuttoned her shirt and slid her chemise straps down and out of his way. The light breeze combined with his intention was enough to bring her sensitive nipples to immediate arousal.
He grinned and lowered his mouth to the hard pebble nub beckoning him, while his hand ran down over her belly.
Her unchecked passion had grown to match his. Both found their sensuality at a high peak and impossible to control.
"I can't wait, Pru." He moved his mouth to feast on her lips.
She welcomed his quenching kiss. "Neither can I," she murmured between their frenzied tastes of each other.
His hand slipped to her skirt, pushing the mounds of material out of his way. He cursed the damn undergarments he'd have to battle. He was pleasantly surprised and relieved to find she wore nothing beneath. His brow rose in question.
She grinned and shrugged her shoulders. "I thought you might be in a hurry."
He laughed and bent down and kissed her while he released himself from his pants. He didn't wait. He entered her swiftly, and she cried out from the strength and pleasure of him.
He leaned over her, bracing his weight on his hands, and moved at a slow and steady tempo, giving her time to adjust. Then his tempo increased and each thrust grew more forceful, more exhilarating. He was riding her with a fury that knew no bounds, and the powerful sensation was like none she had ever dreamed possible.
It was beyond reality, beyond conception. It was wicked.
She heard the groan deep in his chest. It bubbled forth as did her own, climbing, reaching, struggling to grasp. . . . They exploded together in an eruption so utterly powerful that they both cried out in unison.
Zac collapsed on Prudence, and she cradled him against her, feeling the ebb of the once heavy throb fade blissfully in the distance. She squeezed him tightly inside herself and shivered as the very last tingling sensation rippled away.
"Mrs. Stewart," he breathed heavily, "if you continue to eliminate your undergarments, well never make it to my ranch."
