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I threw my head back, biting back the scream threatening to erupt from my throat as whole body reacted to his roughness. He pulled me to him, crushing me to his chest and rolling me over onto my back again.
It only took one more thrust, and I was shaking, stars blurring my visible.
He cried out, his forehead pressed to mine as he trembled around me, pressing his cock as deep as he could go before spilling himself inside of me.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my fingers tangled in his hair.
“Oh, my God, Grant,” I panted desperately. “I’ve never come like that in my life.”
He rocked his hips, which only made the ripples of pleasure still ricocheting through my body heighten.
He kissed me deeply, his tongue gliding along mine.
“Just wait,” he breathed, biting down on my lower lip. “I mean to make you come like that every fucking night. Bring that little toy of yours next time. I want to see.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Grant
It’d been years since a woman had slept over in my bed.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t had random one-night stands with women after a night at Pete’s bar, or that I’d never been in a serious relationship before. In fact, I had been in a serious relationship during my mid-to-late twenties, a relationship that spanned the course of half a decade.
But during that five-year stretch I hadn’t thought about putting a ring on that woman’s finger. Not once. The thought, as bad as it sounded, hadn’t ever crossed my mind.
There were pieces of me that sometimes wondered what would have happened if I had followed the status quo and married her, had a family, got a fucking doodle dog mix, or whatever the hell they were called.
But those thoughts were fleeting. I’d never wanted that life.
Not until now.
I rolled over and wrapped my arm around Moira’s waist, curling into her as we slept side by side. I’d been up for a while now, my body unused to sleeping past six in the morning, but whatever needed to be done on the ranch in the early morning hours could wait, at least for a little while.
Moira was warm to the touch, her breath soft and even as she slept. Her hair tickled my cheek as I closed my eyes again, my heartbeat slowing as I drifted back into a shallow slumber, even though it was nearing eight in the morning.
She hadn’t stirred since we finally fell into a heap of sheets and discarded clothes close to two, and I thanked whoever was listening to my silent prayers that she had been able to sleep soundly without having a nightmare.
But someone was awake, and he was currently creeping up the stairs.
“Shit,” I whispered, sliding away from Moira and slowly rolling out of bed. I really, really didn’t want Day to walk in and see me and his mom naked in my bed. For all he knew, Moira was asleep in the guest bedroom across the hall. If he didn’t find her there, the next person he would look for was me.
I hastily pulled on a pair of boxers and some shorts sitting in the basket of clean laundry I’d yet to fold and crept across the room, careful not to wake Moira up. The door squeaked on its hinges as I opened it just enough to step out into the hallway and I winced at that grating sound.
Nothing a little WD40 couldn’t fix, especially if Moira and I were going to be sneaking around like this for a while, and I meant a while. I had no plans to send her back to the bunkhouse anytime soon, or ever, if I was being honest.
That was up to her, however. I tried not to think about what things would be like as the haze of last night lifted and we were left with the startling reality of how far we’d taken things.
Right now, Day was looking for his mom. If he wasn’t looking for his mom, he was looking for breakfast.
I could handle at least one of those things.
“What’re you doing up so early?” I asked as I leaned on the banister and looked down at the kid from the top of the stairs. He peered up at me, puffy-eyed and ruffled from sleep. He yawned hugely and smacked his lips, shaking his matted hair. “Damn, kid. You need a shower. You still have hay and dust in your hair from the auction yesterday.”
Day gave me a sleepy smile as he shrugged, reaching up to rub his eyes. “Is Mama awake?”
“I haven’t heard her,” I replied with a shrug. It was a half-truth, at least. “Want some breakfast? After you eat, I can hose you down in the yard, but we have to do that before your mom wakes up and yells at me for it.”
“I want to go jump on her bed until she wakes up!”
