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“Ellister.” I’m breathless, panting. “Kiss—”
My request is cut off with fulfillment.
Tightening his hand on the back of my neck, Ellister erases the tiny space between us.
When we connect, warm flesh to warm flesh, there’s nothing hesitant in his demeanor.
He just goes for it, pressing our lips together hard enough to hurt. Ravenous, he kisses me several times in rapid succession.
Equally hungry for him, I open my mouth and lick his bottom lip.
Sweetness. Strength.
He tastes like satisfaction.
When his tongue strokes against mine, I’m doused with desire so strong I can’t help grabbing a fistful of his shirt to pull him closer.
Unintentionally, I tug him so hard he ends up on top of me, his body blanketing mine, and a thrill flows through me when he thrusts against my thigh.
I don’t think he meant to do it. It’s an instinctual action, and it tells me how much he wants me. His desire is obvious from the hard length inside his pants.
“Hannah,” he groans roughly. “We should sto—”
“Don’t say that,” I beg, my words muffled against his lips. “Don’t say we should stop unless youreallywant to. Don’t stop for my sake. Just take what you want, damn it.”
He doesn’t object anymore.
Caving to his desire, he thrusts again, and I move my good leg to accommodate his hips.
I moan when his erection notches against my center. We fit together perfectly, and it feels so good.
He starts to rock over me, and we both let out gruff primal sounds as he finds a rhythm.
In the back of my mind, the lady in me is shouting about how we’re dry-fucking in the barn, of all places. It’s dusty, dirty, and daylight. There are customers milling about right outside these walls. I can hear children laughing. Goats bleating. Parents telling their kids it’s time to go, while they beg to stay.
And here we are, grunting and humping each other like animals.
It’s so uncivilized.
So unlike me.
So… fucking hot.
As Ellister’s erection repeatedly grinds against my clit, I don’t care about anything but right now. Right here.
“Hannah.” This time, when he says my name, there’s no apprehension. It’s reverent and praising.
A sound of encouragement resounds in my throat, and I slide my hand around the back of his neck. My fingertips slip under the stocking cap just a little and sift through his hair.
His hands wander, too. The one that had been massaging my aching muscles glides to my chest, and he cups my breast.
My clothes are in the way, and I feel an irrational level of anger at the layers of material between us.
Before I can ask, Ellister knows what I need.
His hand dives under my shirt. He yanks the lace of my bra down and covers my bare skin with his warm palm. He squeezes my flesh while grazing my nipple with his thumb.
I gasp and arch, silently begging for more.
