Page 29 of Auctioned to the Cowboys

I make a mental note to bake him one as soon as I have a minute in the kitchen. I expect him to drop me onto the bed, but instead, he strides to the wall, pushing my back against the cool plaster.

He holds me like I weigh nothing, all the bales of hay he’s moved over the years solidifying his strength. His mouth is hot on my nipple, and he sucks hungrily, moaning as I arch my back.

I shift my hips against the bar of his cock, seeking friction. Before I can catch my breath, he shoves down his underwear, quickly wraps himself, and notches in just the right place, braced and ready to enter me. I’m slick, but he’s big. Eye to eye, we both breathe fast, anticipation fluttering my heart.

“You ready for me?”

“Yes.” It’s a lie. I’m not ready for anything that’s happening in my life. I’m a tumbleweed, drifting on the wind, a plastic bottle swept from the shore, buffeted by the waves for eternity.

He pushes in just a little, and it burns. My body isn’t used to so much sex, and Clint and Jesse were both big enough to leave a tinge of soreness.

“Okay?”

“It hurts,” I admit.

Maverick lowers his eyes and shifts so he pulls back.

“No,” I tell him. “Don’t stop. Just go slow.”

He searches my face for confirmation of my words.

“I’ll give you an inch at a time,” he says. “Count with me. And if it gets too much and you want to stop, we can… at any time.”

“Okay.”

He pushes his thumb into my mouth and then presses the wet pad over my clit. We both focus between our bodies where we’re joined, and he’s touching me.

“One,” he says. With slow circles, he teases heat between my legs. Then he pushes in a little more. “Two.” He kisses my mouth, sliding his tongue across mine as we wait for my body to open.

“Three.” The stretch burns again, but behind the pain is an ache of pleasure.

“Four.”

I arch my back and tip my face to the ceiling, breathing through as my body spreads to accommodate him.

His big, rough palm clasps my exposed throat, holding me in place.

“Five.”

I’m trembling, desperate for him to force everything inside me.

“Six.”

Oh god. How many more? I know I can take it. He’s made me wet with his teasing thumb and gravelly voice, and the pain has shifted to a hot throb that craves more.

“Seven.”

“Oh,” I gasp. He’s so thick. I want to look between us, but he’s holding me tightly with just a little pressure against my throat. My head spins.

“Eight.”

Surely that’s it. Is he in all the way? I’m impaled. Open. Owned.

“Nine.”

“Maverick…” There’s a gasp of fear in my voice, and he lets go of my throat, pressing his whole body against mine.

“You’re so tight,” he growls.

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