Page 23 of Buttercup and the Beard

I focus on my pelvic muscles, and instead of riding I contract and loosen the muscles inside of me until I’m strangling his cock with my pussy.

“Jesus, Jem. What…”

My own smirk takes over my face as my hips slide back and I grind on him. My clit rubs against the base of his shaft, and soon my tits are bouncing from the force of my thrusts. He reaches around me and swats his hand against my ass.

“Oh fuck,” I groan, my pace faltering at the sound of his hand spanking me.

“My woman likes being spanked while she rides my dick like a good girl?” He grunts and lifts his hips to power into me.

I nod dumbly.

“Fuck me.” His harsh expletive sinks into the air between us.

Lightning streaks through my veins, the pleasure making me lightheaded. In tandem we work together, Boone’s hands on my hips raising and lowering me while he thrusts into me from beneath until we both explode, our orgasms setting each other’s off.

I slump against his chest, trying to catch my breath when he runs his hand over my hair, the thundering of his heart under my ear.

“If we keep going at this rate, one of us is going to kill the other.”

Sitting up, I lean back and savor the feel of him—still half hard—inside of me and smile. “But what a way to go, right?”

My legs are jelly when I climb off him and head toward the bathroom to wash up. After crawling back into bed with him, the sound of his phone buzzing on the table distracts me from what I was going to say.

After a second, and Boone not reaching for his phone, I ask, “Are you going to get that?”

He sighs and then reaches for the phone. I see the flash of a name—Harlan—before he dims the screen and puts the phone back on the table.

“Your brothers?” I ask.

He nods but doesn’t say more.

“Tell me about them?”

Another sigh and silence. Just as I start to think that maybe I’m going too deep too fast he starts to talk.

“Harlan is the oldest at thirty-six. He’s Everette’s sheriff. Has been for the last five years. Finch and Duke are next at thirty-five—Finch is a handyman and exterminator and Duke has his custom furniture business.”

“They’re twins? I ask, interrupting him reciting facts about his family in a rote fashion.

“Yeah. Then there’s Jedd—he’s thirty-three. He runs an automotive shop in town. And Rhett is thirty-two; he’s a firefighter and paramedic.”

“You’re thirty-two, right?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“So you and Rhett are twins too?”

“Nah. We’re Irish twins.”

“You’re telling me your mother had six boys in the span of five years?” I ask, incredulous.

“She did. But remember she was super woman. She kept up.”

“I’ll frickin’ say.”

Boone falls silent and I tease, “Well, now that I know the basics, tell me about them. Not just what they do for a living and how old they are.”

“It’s hard for me to talk about them,” he says after a minute.

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