Page 38 of Snowed In with the Rancher

“No. It’s actually kind of hot if you think about it. I mean, I doubt your brother is gonna leak it to the press, and even if he did, we’re nobodies.”

“He’s not going to leak it.”

“So we have nothing to worry about.”

Heat flared in his eyes and he slowly stalked toward her, the tent in his boxers was growing and she had a hard time peeling her gaze away from it. “You’re really fucking cool, you know that?” he said, reaching her and circling her waist with his hands.

“I have been told such things from time to time, yes.” She tipped her head up and pinned her gaze on his. “Thank you for telling me, though. Not all guys would have been so open or understanding about my privacy and right to know.”

Lifting her up, he plunked her bare ass on the countertop and his hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt that she was wearing, tracing up her thighs and sending hot sparks of desire zapping through her.

“I’m not a big talker,” he said, his voice deep, gravelly and so damn sexy it made her nipples pebble.

“I’ve noticed.”

“I like the quiet.”

“The quiet can be good.”

“I prefer to show how I’m feeling, rather than say it out loud.”

Sliding her tongue along her bottom lip, she let her gaze drift down to his erection and brushed it with her hand through the soft fabric. “I can see how you’re feeling pretty clearly right now.”

He shook his head. “No. I mean really show you.” Then he dropped to a crouch, pulled her ass to the edge of the counter, and went ears-deep between her legs.

Her head fell back and knocked the cupboard as her fingers wove their way into his hair and she held him in place.

Yeah, the man wasn’t much of a talker, but he was sure talented with that mouth of his. And to be honest, talking was overrated when they could do things like this.

He pushed two fingers into her channel and pumped, coaxing that simmering orgasm that burbled and bubbled right at the surface.

She squirmed against him, loving it when he sucked on her clit hard enough she thought he was trying to remove it from her body. Then he’d ease up and waggle his tongue over it, sweeping that strong, limber muscle up between her folds. He chased his tongue with his stubbled chin and she nearly lose her damn head.

He knew the precise spot to hit her clit and where to press inside her that had her bucking against his face, her leg jerking and stars bursting behind her closed eyes.

But he also knew just how hard to press and suck to not tip her over the mountain top. To keep her riding the edge, it was decadent torture that infuriated her just as much as it turned her on.

It all felt so incredible, and yet she knew what waited for her with just a little shove.

Pure bliss.

“Asher,” she crooned, tightening her grip on his hair and pressing her pussy harder against his face.

He ignored her and kept eating.

“Asher … dear God.”

He didn’t let up, if anything, he ate with more determination, more vigor, and when his other finger pressed at her ass, then gathered some of her juices only to press again, she was biting her lip too damn hard to say anything.

That was until he breached her tight hole and the unfamiliar pressure and pleasure sent her headfirst into the most epic, brain-exploding orgasm of her entire life.

His suction on her clit had her lifting off the counter, pressing her back against the cupboard to arch into his face, while his fingers inside her pressed up hard on her G-spot until she felt like she needed to pee.

But it was that finger in her ass—something she’d never done before—that had sent her hurdling over the edge of the cliff and straight into the clouds filled with rainbows, singing angels, and cotton candy craping unicorns.

Her limbs went stiff and she yanked harder on his hair, pressing him against her pussy until he probably couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. And he didn’t seem to, either.

Only when the orgasm that felt like it would never end finally ended, did she slump back to the counter and begin her gentle float back to earth, waving goodbye to the unicorns and angels.

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