Page 99 of Maybe Baby

“What the fuck do you care whatI'mdoing inmybarn withmyfucking horse!” he yelled. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, Tylar! Sorry if I disturbed your rest. Apologize toMarkfor me when you get back to your bed!”

Oh. Hell. No.

He didnotjust say that to me. I glared at him. He stood there looking at me all cocky, his hands on his slender hips, his five o’clock shadow looking gorgeous, with his now unruly hair. He knew he’d insulted me.

In that instant, all I wanted to do was to wipe that smug look off of his face. How dare he regard me as if I were nothing to him but a piece of ass!

Before I had time to think, I raised my hand back and slapped him hard across his cheek with enough force that his head turned with the contact of my hand. I was surprised at my own strength. What was more surprising, though, was that it didn’t faze Trey a bit. He smirked and went right on giving me that same look. In that moment, I felt like a cheap whore. I felt like my mother’s daughter. No one had ever made me feel that way. No one ever could have except for Trey, and he knew that.

I raised my hand back again, with all my strength, bringing it back around to slap his cheek, harder this time. Trey didn’t take his eyes off of mine as he caught my wrist in a vice-like grip inches from his cheek and held it.

“Let me go, you drunken bastard!” I screamed, struggling to free my wrist from his strong grip.

“Bitch!” he spat, still not releasing me.

I continued to struggle against him but he was stronger. He yanked my wrist forward, so I was pressed up against him, taking my arm and wrapping it around his neck. His put his other arm on my hip, pressing me to him. His mouth found mine, devouring me with his ardent kiss, his tongue plunging into mine with a vengeance. He had bent my head so far back I thought I'd snap. I finally pulled my arms back from around his neck and fisted his chest, trying to push him away from me. His kisses turned softer, gentler. He released his firm hold on me, burying his face into my hair, nuzzling my neck, murmuring softly into my ear.

“I want you so bad, Tylar. I’ve missed you so much.”

I didn’t want to give in. It would serve no purpose. Yet, my body ached for his fulfillment, for our perfect fit and exquisite rhythm. I wanted him to find the sweet spot that we’d discovered together, and to make the magic thing happen that always did when he found it. I returned his kisses passionately. I hated myself in that moment. I wanted him, right or wrong, one last time. I wanted him to fill me again. I needed him inside of me.

He pulled me out into the stable area, grabbing a horse blanket from the rail, throwing it down over the pile of clean straw. In seconds, he was pulling me to him, raising my tee shirt up over my head and tossing it aside, His hands were all over my breasts, massaging them and kissing me passionately. He dropped to his knees, pulling my shorts and panties down to my ankles. I stepped out of them, now dressed only in my boots. He put one of my arms on his shoulder so that I could keep my balance while he removed one of my boots, tossing them behind him.

Now, fully naked, I stood before him, I started to relax back into the makeshift straw bed, but his strong arm kept me upright. In moments his mouth was on my sex, kissing, licking, and using his fingers to explore its depth. I was immediately wet; my body betrayed me with him. He pushed his fingers in and out, while pressing his other hand down just above my pubic bone. I could feel my sweet spot swell just like it always did with him. I could feel the release ready to burst, but I needed him inside of me this time when it happened. He knew what I wanted. He wasn't going to give it to me until I asked for it. I was moaning softly, my hips gyrating around his magic fingers.

“Tell me, Tylar. Tell me what you want,” he coaxed.

“I want you, Trey.”

He laid me gently onto the makeshift bed of straw, kissing my face and neck while he knelt in front of me and lowered the zipper on his jeans, pulling his erection free.

Oh my!

He positioned himself above me, grabbing both of my legs and placing them on his shoulders. He hadn’t taken a stitch of his clothing off.

“Trey, wait,” I gasped, “a condom?”

“Fuck that,” he rasped, guiding his erection into me.

“No—stop,” I insisted, my hands were now pressed against his strong chest, pushing him back. He lowered his lips to my mouth, silencing any further protests. His tongue was ravaging my lips and mouth. I felt his passion and mine mingle in our kiss. With one quick thrust he buried his unsheathed cock into me, filling the void perfectly. He pulled back and slammed himself into me again, roughly. I cried out.

I didn’t care if he was rough. I needed rough right now. I needed to feel every inch of him inside of me. My hands no longer pushed against his chest. They found their way to his ass, gripping each side as he continued to rock in and out of me. It felt so good, so full, and so right. This was my Trey; I loved him no matter what.

He slowed his rhythm; his thrusting grew gentler, going into the familiar circular motion. Trey’s cock was curved perfectly to hit my sweet spot and he knew exactly how to hit it, with the perfect rhythm and timing. I moaned with pleasure each time he thrust himself in and out of me. My body was building to its climatic explosion; Trey was timing it perfectly. We were going to come together and the build-up was almost painful. As he continued the steady rhythm of thrusting, each time making contact with my G-spot, I felt my breathing getting shallower and shallower. My body ached to consume him; I could feel my muscle contracting, squeezing him in timed spasms. As our momentum increased, I heard myself moaning and groaning with pure, unadulterated pleasure. This was a seamless coupling of two people that truly loved one another, I was convinced of it.

I felt the heat at my core, spreading slowly throughout my body, building to a crescendo of peak pleasure with my love. His thrusting increased steadily. I felt tears spring to my eyes at the pure pleasure. This was a first for me, the emotional part of it. I felt that Trey was right there with me, kissing me and holding me. He usually talked to me during this part but perhaps the intensity of this coupling was as new to him as it was to me.

I heard him moan as he continued his exquisite thrusting. I could tell he was ready. He should pull out now I thought to myself. We were not protected. In the next moment I knew I didn’t want him to stop. I'd gone beyond reasonable thinking as my release was ready to explode. I grasped his firm ass, still inside his jeans, pulling him closer to me as if I wanted to devour him there as well. We both climaxed at the same time, crying out so strongly I was sure we woke the horses. I felt Trey stiffen as he came, followed by the rhythmic pumping as he emptied himself inside of me. I was right there with him, pulling every last drop from him.

“That’s it Tylar, take it all,” he said, thrusting the last of his climax into me. When he’d finished, he pulled out of me and rolled onto his back, finally catching his breath. I was doing the same. Our breathing steadied; Trey didn’t move to pull me close or kiss me, which is what he usually did after we'd made love. I was covered with sweat and straw, but fulfilled in every way.

“What a fuck!” Trey said, tucking his glistening cock back inside his jeans and zipping up his fly. He lay back, raking a hand through his damp hair and promptly passed out in the straw.

My heart tore into a million pieces. I stood up in the straw and searched for my clothes. My vision blurred with flowing tears. I found my panties and shorts in one heap, my tee shirt a few feet away. I hurriedly dressed and ran from the stables. I stumbled back up the short path to my cottage. Slamming the cottage door, I let loose with sobs. His words came back to haunt me.

What a fuck.

That was the same thing that Daniel had said to my mom on prom night. My mom, the whore, deserved to be talked to that way. I'd done nothing to deserve that, or the nasty comment about having Mark in my bed. Where'd that come from? There was nothing between Mark and me except friendship. I had told Trey this. Our problems had nothing to do with Mark.

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