Page 32 of Old-Fashioned Rancher

“I changed my mind,” I said.

Grady blinked.

“What?”

I could see the flicker of hesitation cross his face. He thought I’d changed my mind about the wedding. About him and our future together.

I slid my hands up Grady’s chest and toyed with the button at his collar, stroking the hollow of his exposed throat.

“We can dance later,” I amended. “We have the rest of our lives to do that. Take me away.”

Grady’s face softened. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, his thumb anchored firmly over my diamond. Picking a path through the crowded reception, he led me up to the house. We had barely reached his room—our room now, I realized—before he was fumbling with my skirts. He hooked his fingers inside my barely-there panties and slid them down my legs.

Then he looped an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him as he dropped onto the mattress. I sprawled on top of him with a squeak of surprise.

“Ride me,” Grady said, gruffly. “I want to look at you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Using his chest to anchor myself, I shifted position until I straddled him. I rolled my hips against the bulge in his jeans. He pushed my skirts out of the way until his hot, rough palms settled on my smooth thighs.

“So pretty and pink for me,” he murmured, tracing his thumb over my clit.

I moaned and tilted my head back at the slightest, sweetest friction. Grady skimmed one hand over my lace-covered breasts, giving them a squeeze. I started to tug his shirt free from his jeans, then got too impatient halfway through and gave up. Leaning down, I sucked at the juncture of his neck and jawline. The rumbling vibrations of his answering growl tasted heavenly on my tongue.

“God, Grady, I need you inside me,” I rasped.

“Go on then,” he replied. “Take what you want, sweetheart. I’ll give you everything you ever ask for.”

I brought my hands down to his belt buckle, scratching lightly at the strip of exposed skin above his waistband. He’d put on some weight since our marriage at the courthouse, rendering him softer around the middle. I liked to see him padded with comfort now, instead of the lean rancher hardened with muscle that I met two months ago.

After making quick work of Grady’s belt, I unzipped his fly and dragged a knuckle along the ridge of his hard cock. He groaned deep in his chest, flexing his hips up toward my touch. He curved his palms around my hips, clutching me tight.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, strained. “Have mercy on this old man, will you?”

I huffed a laugh and thumbed at the head of his cock until he squirmed beneath me.

“You’re not old. That’s what you always say when Avery teases you.”

Grady sat up, sucking a kiss into the top of my breasts.

“That’s different. I’m looking for a little sympathy here, love.”

Wrapping an arm around me, he tugged my zipper down my spine until my dress gaped open. After he pushed the fabric aside, he swept his thumbs along the swell of my cleavage, circling over my lacy white bra until my nipples hardened.

“Would burying your face in my tits offer enough sympathy for you?” I replied with amusement.

Grady pulled the cups of my bra down, pinching my stiff nipples until jolts of pleasure raced through every nerve in my body.

“It might do the trick,” he said. “I’d have to check.”

I shook my head with a smile and looped my arms around Grady’s neck, pulling him closer. He pinched, sucked, and licked my nipples, flicking his tongue over them until the empty throb between my thighs was unbearable.

Ever since our wedding, Grady and I rarely used condoms. My birth control would be enough. And I loved the feeling of nothing between us but skin against hot, pulsing skin.

I set the tip of Grady’s cock at my entrance and slowly sank down. That first breach never failed to take my breath away—the perfect stretch, thick, scorching, and so good. The slick sounds of my pussy mingled in the air with our labored breathing as I rolled my hips in a steady, even rhythm.

Grady cupped my ass in both hands, encouraging me to rock back and forth. The wet heat of his mouth matched the easy glide of his cock—in, out, deeper, dragging against my walls until my world became filled with the sensation of him. His heat. His taste. His mouth. His hands.

I pushed him back against the mattress, growing frantic as I chased the heady rise of pleasure building in my body.

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