Page 103 of Something Like Sunflowers

“Thought you were gonna be a good little girl for me, but you just can’t help how fuckable you are, can you, Devy?”

Oh, my God. The dirty words on his lips coupled with my childhood nickname send me over the edge. He hasn’t even touched between my legs yet, but it’s all I feel, pulsing, throbbing. My thighs slam together, trapping his knee between them, and I grind my body against it until I’m coming and cursing. He smirks, licking the shell of my ear with his whisper.

“Do you feel better now?”

I nod, twisting my lips as an embarrassed smile pulls across my face. But he wastes no time. He slides his fingers into my hair and hoists me up, bracing me from behind and bringing me to my feet, angling my head so I have no choice but to look into his eyes. Eyes that could open to the blue sky above us and I wouldn’t even know the difference.

“Good. Because what we’re about to do requires you to stand perfectly still, and I can’t have you coming all over my pants the way you like to while I’m tying you up.”

“Tying me up?” My voice is thick and husky, and I lick my lips, unaware of where this ho inside of me comes from, but embracing her all the same as I throw a coy smile his way. “I thought we were going to play out your fantasies, not mine.”

His eyes darken, as he curses beneath his breath.

“Fuck. Take off your clothes.” His eyes rake down my body as he scrapes his tongue across his lips.

Slowly. Tantalizing. And I’m pretty sure when he does it, there’s a button that presses against the swollen bud between my legs.

It drives me wild.

Goosebumps prickle my body while I do as I’m told, removing my blouse, then my shorts. Next go my black bra and hot pink lace panties that earn an appreciative groan from Hunter, who’s standing there in his full clothes watching me with a hunger I don’t think I’ve ever seen in a man’s eyes.

My heart thumps wildly as I bend down to remove my pink cowgirl boots, the ones I had Dad ship me from the city after my heels met their maker in the muddy fields. I pull one halfway off, but Hunter stops me, his voice a thick command that settles in my core.

“Leave the boots.” A curve tilts his lips. “I want you spread open, covered in mud, and ready to work, like the Good Lord intended.”

Oh, my God, the filth that pours from his mouth is sinful. And I can’t help how turned on it makes me feel all the same. I want that, too. I want to be tied up in front of him, put on display for him, to do whatever he wants. To take the pressure of all that away from me.

To own my body so I won’t have to, if only for this moment in time.

“Don’t speak unless prompted, do you understand?” I nod, but bite back my laugh. And yeah, don’t get me wrong, normal Devyn would show this cowboy a thing or two about where I can shove these pretty little shit kickers when I’m told what to do, but normal Devyn has clocked out and gone home for the night. This is the Ex to Hoe Ratio thing…Jeremy is on to something. Because why else would I agree to something so controlling, taboo, and…

Who am I kidding?

It’s sexy and kinky and I want it.

Hunter takes my wrists and places a soft kiss on the inside of each, maintaining eye contact all the while. He carefully arranges my body, positioning me face up on the bench, my thighs hanging open, straddling either side so my boots are flush with the dirt.

“You did something bad, Dev. Do you want to know what?” A shiver of delight passes over me, an excitement I can neither quench nor explain as he unbuttons the cuffs on his sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his muscled forearms. He lowers his head to just above my center, and I want his mouth on it like I want air.

“You called me Daddy,” he says, his eyes hard and menacing. He plays the part so damn well. If I didn’t know any better, his shift in energy would scare me, but I do know him better, and all it does is make me wet. He groans as he drags his fingers over my leg, where it drips down my thigh, coating his fingers in my desire.

“In those books you read—” He rubs his hands on my thighs, going higher with each hitch of my breath, until he’s mere inches from where I want him to be, his gaze scraping over me possessively. “It means he’s the Dom, doesn’t it?”

I bite my bottom lip, averting my eyes, but he uses his other hand to grab my chin between his thumb and forefinger and whips my focus back on him.

“It does,” he says, “and I decided I like it.”

He stands tall and circles the bench, tweaking my nipples and tugging my hair on his circumnavigation of my body. I could tell you it feels degrading, but it’s hot as hell, and all it does is make me insatiable, my desire soaking my Spanx right through.

“I like the idea of you falling apart under my command. Submitting to me.”

I moan when he twists my nipple, just lightly enough not to hurt, but rough enough to make me need him, crave him. I rock myself against the bench, and he coos.

“The only words I want to hear from those pretty lips of yours are Daddy and Sir,” he says firmly, tugging me closer by the same nipple he has yet to release. He holds it, possessively. Like it’s his.

And I’m so turned on in this moment that I’d agree in an instant if he’ll promise to put it in his mouth and run his tongue around it like he did inside my mouth earlier.

“Yes, Daddy,” I tease, rolling my eyes and earning a slap to my bare pussy, and I can’t help the moan that pops from my lips in response. It feels so good, the pleasure that comes just after the pain.

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