Page 17 of Her Filthy Cowboy

“Not yet.” His voice is commanding as he cuts me off. “I want you to wait. Can you do that for me?”

I nod, biting my lip. The need for release is almost painful, but I’ll do anything he asks.

Suddenly, Brody shifts our position and lifts my legs over his shoulders. The new angle allows him to penetrate even deeper.

Then, he wraps his hand lightly around my throat.

My breath catches. But it’s not from fear, it’s from a surge of unexpected arousal. I’ve never been into anything like this before, but with Brody, it feels right. I trust him completely, and I know that he would never hurt me.

As he continues to thrust, I lose myself in the sensations. The pressure of his hand on my throat, the fullness of him inside me,the intensity in his eyes as he watches me—it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Oh, Brody.” I grip his muscular shoulders. “Right there, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby.” Brody’s pace is relentless. “Take all of me. You’re mine now.”

The possessiveness in his tone should bother me, but it only turns me on more. I’ve never felt so desired, so completely claimed by someone. I feel my climax start to build rapidly. “Brody, I’m so close. Please, please, please. I need to come. Please let me come.”

His grip on my throat tightens just enough to make my pulse race.

“Do it. Since you asked me so nicely. Do it, Savannah. Come for me. Let me watch you fall apart.”

With one more perfectly angled thrust, I shatter.

Waves of pleasure crash over me as I cry out Brody’s name, my body clenching around him. It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced before. Brody is right behind me, spilling into me in hot spurts while he groans my name.

As I come down from my high, Brody gathers me into his arms and pulls me against his broad chest. I nestle into his warmth, feeling utterly sated and surprisingly emotional.

“That was...” I trail off, searching for words. “Brody, that was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He presses a tender kiss to my forehead, a contrast to the roughness of our lovemaking. “You’re amazing, Savannah. I knew you would be.”

As we drift off to sleep together, I can’t help but wonder what this means for us. Can a Clayton and a Sullivan really make this work? But for now, wrapped in Brody’s strong arms, I push those thoughts aside and let myself enjoy the moment.

When I wakeup the next morning, sunlight spills through the gaps in the hotel curtains the next morning. I turn, expecting to feel Brody next to me, but his side of the bed is empty. The sound of the shower running drifts from the bathroom.

I stretch languidly, my body deliciously sore in all the right places. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opens, pulling me from my thoughts. Brody emerges with a towel slung low on his hips. Water droplets cling to his broad chest, and his damp hair curls at the nape of his neck.

He grins when he sees me awake. “Morning, sunshine.”

I can’t help but return his smile. “Morning, yourself.”

Brody crosses to the bed, his eyes darkening as he takes in my naked form tangled in the sheets. “You look good enough to eat.” He lets the towel drop to the floor and leans down to kiss me, one hand slipping beneath the covers to skim along my thigh.

But before we can get carried away, my stomach growls loudly.

Brody pulls back with a chuckle. “Guess I better feed you first.” He presses a quick kiss to my nose. “Shower’s all yours. Then we’ll rustle up some breakfast.”

As he turns to get dressed, I catch his hand. “Brody...”

He looks at me expectantly, but I hesitate, unsure how to put my swirling emotions into words.

I swallow hard, settling for a safer truth. “Last night was amazing.”

His eyes soften, and he lifts my hand to his mouth and brushes a kiss across my knuckles. “It was. And it’s just the beginning, Savannah. Trust me.”

With a wink, he releases me and starts pulling on his clothes. I watch him for a moment, blown away at the easy intimacy between us. The sense of rightness.

Then, with a sigh, I drag myself out of bed. The shower calls, as does my growling stomach.

---