Page 36 of Bull Rush

“I didn’t say you had to stop, sugar.” His grin is devilish, but his words are soft. “You need it. Use me to finish yourself off.”

I take a breath and roll my hips again, teasing my clit with the friction at first and then leaning into it more. Riding his thigh until my breathing gets heavier and my hands are wrapped up in the quilt on his bed. But I can only seem to brush the edges of my release before it drifts away again, and I quickly start to feel the heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks.

I shake my head in frustration. Ramsey’s the one man who’s been patient enough to help me get off without toys. But it’s been years since we had that kind of connection, since I could enjoy things with him. Even right before our should-have-been divorce, we’d grown too distant for him to be able to help me through it.

“Get out of your head.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You’re thinking too much. Worrying too much. Just grind that sweet little cunt on me.”

I return to my former position, and I can feel my clit pulse with anticipation as I start to grind against his thigh. He changes his position, leaning forward a little to give me more friction. It feels good. So fucking good. I bite back a moan as I take another pass.

“There you go. Just like that. Keep going.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. His breath is warm against my neck and my cheek, and the weight of his thigh between my legs and the possessive way he holds my wrists has me losing myself. I grind away on him like this is a dream where there aren’t any real consequences, and I can just enjoy how good this all is—the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the sound of his voice. I take it all in, and before I know what’s happening, I’m edging closer to the cliff I desperately need.

“Fuck… You should see yourself. So pretty when you let go like this. What fuckin’ dreams are made of.”

I switch my position slightly, chasing the edge of the pleasure I feel start to spark. But it’s still elusive, and I frown as I lose it, changing my rhythm again to try to get it back and sighing when I can’t.

“What do you need? Use your words.”

“I need my fucking toys.” My eyes snap open, and I glare at him, angry all over again that I had to come in here to hunt them down.

“Asknicely.”

“Please give me back my fucking toys.” I narrow my eyes. This is where most guys fail the test, and I have to decide whether I play along with the charade for their ego or whether I’m honest and throw them and their egos to the curb.

Ramsey reaches over me into the guest room nightstand,pulling one of my favorite vibrators out and turns it on. It buzzes to life, and he presses it between my legs. It’s like magic, bringing the edge I was chasing back immediately. I close my eyes and start to rock against his thigh again, solid and roped with muscle, just like the rest of him.

“That’s it. Soak me while you ride it.” He changes the angle of the vibrator, pressing it closer to my clit, and gives me enough to make me desperate to chase the end. I ride his thigh harder; every counterstroke gives another heavy buzz, and before I know it, I’m cursing and practically panting for him. All he’d have to do is ask if I wanted his cock, and I’d probably beg for it. But he doesn’t. He gives me mercy instead, pressing the vibrator all the way down on my clit and bringing his mouth down on my nipple, nipping and sucking it through my tank top as I cry out.

“Oh fuck. Ramsey. Fuck… Please. Bite harder,” I beg him, and he does as I ask.

I scream out because it’s half-decadent pleasure and half-delirious pain. The orgasm chases through my nerve endings, lighting every single one and making me moan as I ride out the last waves of it. My whole body goes limp as it recedes, and the heaviness of the aftershock advances in its stead. He lets my hands go free as he sits back, and I feel the cool air from the AC whip over my body in the gap he’s created between us. It feels like heaven on my heated skin.

I enjoy the bliss for whole moments before I hear the buzz of the vibrator go silent, and then I can hear him—in stereo. His breathing is heavy, and I can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest and feel the weight of his gaze. My eyes open and his glimmer with want. His cock is thick and heavy, jutting against his boxers.

“How long has it been?” I ask as I slip my panties off, and he watches the movement like a feral predator about tostrike.

“Too long, and prison made it longer.” Something about that turns me on. The idea of him, a man who always takes what he wants, having to wait for once in his life. Being starved of his favorite things and driven to the edge like this. I sit up and shift onto my shins until our knees are touching.

I slip my fingers up his thigh and curl them over the inside. “That must have been hard for you. Lots of nights with just your hand. Did you really think of me?”

“I did.” The way he looks at me makes me weak. Makes my heart flutter in a way I don’t like. The kind that needs to be snuffed out. Crushed. Then set on fire all over again.

“Well…” I force a grin. “Then you’ll be well practiced for your time here. But at least now you can use these.” I toss my panties into his lap and stand, smirking as his face clouds with confusion. “Enjoy your night, Lone Ranger,” I call back over my shoulder before I shut the door. I can hear the loud growl of frustration behind me, and I hurry down the hall, dodging into the master bedroom and locking the door behind me.

I’m winded, still trying to catch my breath, but I hold it for a moment to see if I can hear him follow. It’s silent, and I grab my stomach, half a sigh and half a laugh coming out at the same time. I can’t help the smile that breaks either as I close my eyes and lean back against the wall while my breathing slows. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while, which means I’m in trouble if I don’t find a way to stop it.

SIXTEEN

Ramsey

I’min the middle of cleaning my saddle and the rest of my tack in the barn when Hazel bursts in, a bright red backpack flung over one of her shoulders as she roots through a cabinet and searches the wall where the keys are. She brushes a lock of hair back from her face as her eyes frantically scan it a second time.

“Looking for something?” I ask, pausing and adding more leather cleaner the rag as I watch her look through a basket on the counter.

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