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Unwilling to wait, I spread her legs open wide and looked down at the site of her pretty little pussy, dripping for me.Any other time, I would have buried my face in her pussy, but now, I ached to get my cock inside her.
Pulling my belt, I opened a drawer and took out a condom. Her brows shot up. “Prepared, aren’t you?”
“I’m a boy scout,” I replied, ripping it with my teeth as Rayna cupped her breast and fingered her nipple with a sigh. The sound went to my cock, and I was ready to fuck her.
With one hand under her thigh and the other on her knee, I spread her legs wider and pulled her close, lining her up against me.
“Please, hurry,” she whimpered.
Holding my thick, throbbing cock, I guided it into her slick pussy an inch, just enough for her to know what was coming. Then—with one hard thrust, I was inside her tight fucking hole. She gripped me like a chokehold, taking every inch as I pushed deeper into her tight body, driving into her with borderline madness.
With one hand behind her for a brace, she gripped the back of my neck, and her hips soon matched my rhythm, her tits bouncing with every hard thrust. I kept my hands around her legs, my grip hard and bruising as I pumped faster, fucking her deep and hard. Our bodies, slick with sweat, slapped against each other, and the table creaked and rocked beneath us as we went at it like a train off its rails, rushing for a cliffside.
This was real.
This was primal.
This was a pure need and untamable lust.
Red-hot lust doused me in flames, and I grunted as I pumped in and out of her. It was rough and blistering, skin pounding on the skin, while the sounds and smell of sex filled the room. Rayna was undone, her mouth open, but no screams came out; she was panting, rolling her hips, taking every thrust I gave her.
She needed me as much as I needed her. Her body was throbbing and tightened around my thickening cock while my blood heated to a boil, and fire raced up my spine. All this was reckless, wild, untamed as I piledrive her body harder and harder. Looking down, I watched as my massive cock plunged into her body.
“Come for me, Ray.” I reached down and stroked her slippery clit as I thrust deep inside. “Come for me. Show me your bliss.”
My balls tightened, her body clamped around me, and I saw a flaming nebula go off behind my eyes. I let go of the last ounce of control and roared, pumping every drop of cum I had into her.
I feel frozen, lingering between heaven and earth, until I felt her hand stroking through my wet hair. Instinctively, I turned my head to meet her lips, kissing her tenderly, pulling away to brush my cheek against her as she buried her head into my shoulder.
I kissed the tender skin beside her ear and whispered, “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”
Fifteen minutes later, after quick showers—separately because I knew I’d succumb to temptation if we washed up together—we were back in my office. Platters of food were laid out; roasted fish, slivers of beef, loaded baked potatoes—with more butter than my arteries would like—and fresh salad.
“Samantha is coming along,” Rayna said, her damp hair drying by the open window as she came to the table. “She’s starting to embrace both parts of herself.”
“That’s good news,” I replied.
“Don’t expect her to be prom queen anytime soon, but she’s seeing that being girly is not that bad.”
Her phone lit up, and she dropped her fork to reach for it, then swiped whatever was open. Her bows shot up. “Oh wow. John, where is your TV? You might want to see this.”
“Downstairs,” he said. “Why?”
“Let’s go.” She grinned mischievously.
After covering our food, we left the room below, and I switched on the TV. The news channel I had left it on a few days ago popped up, and the anchor was looking wry.
“…In other news, the report we had received about a tussle between rival ranch owners and a clip we had aired about a fight between Mr. West and Mr. Maxwell has gone deeper than we had imagined. We have just received an unaltered recording from the Maxwell Estate, which is the true story of the confrontation between Mister Brandon West and Mister Maxwell.”
We stood there as the full recording of West punching me first was shown, and then the rest of the fracas until West and his entourage packed up and left. I turned to Rayna and found her smiling. Reaching out, I tugged her into a one-armed hug. “You had something to do with this?”
“That anchor? She’s the mom of one of my students,” she replied. “I told her what happened and asked her to contact your lawyer. I guess she’s a real journalist.”
Laughing, I said, “Remind me to thank you later, too.”
She hugged me tight and smiled, her eyes brimming with desire. “I’m looking forward to that.”
Tugging her in, I kissed her softly, ready to go back upstairs and thank her again…until I heard, “…Dad?”
