Page 112 of Stables

His grip snugs on my hip and he grinds me against him as his lips touch the bare skin on the back of my neck. “Well, I like this version very much. Don’t be so tough on yourself. I’m the only one allowed to be hard…in you.” He pulls the lobe of my ear between his teeth, sending a shiver through me.

His butterfly kisses down my throat make me giggle. “Well, I guess I’m lucky then,” I manage to pant as he stokes the fire that has smoldered in my belly all day.

He has no idea how many glances I stole of him on his horse and just how absolutely soaked it’s kept me seeing him ride.

I’ve always wanted someone who enjoys the same things as me. Why I ended up with Matt, I have no idea. Whoever said opposites attract is an idiot.

Dixon coils my braid around his hand and tugs my head back, exposing me further to his hungry mouth.

“I don’t know about lucky,” he murmurs against my hot skin. “But you are going to be fucked.”

My arms wrap around him as he lifts me, then he kicks open the door to the tack room.

“But what about your friend? He’s going to be here soon.” I don’t want Dixon to stop, but I also don’t want his family to hate me.

“He can get his own woman. You’re mine.” He closes us in the dim room and sets me down. “Take off that belt.” His eyes flash while he holds firmly to my braid.

Slowly, I undo the buckle and slide it from the loops of my jeans. My hand shakes when I lift it for him, not in fear, but in anticipation.

He winds the leather around his fist. “Unzip my jeans. You need to see what you do to me.” He pulls my cap off and hangs it on a hook behind him.

The brim of his hat shadows his face when he looks down. “Go on, my rodeo queen, get a taste of how impressed I am.” He leansover, brushing the shell of my ear with his breath. “Then you’re going to climb on top and show me how well you can ride.”

A flutter of heat races through me.

What this man does to me, I can’t even describe. He makes me want to beg him to fold me in half. To scream his name and have all his babies.

I want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel.

Finding his zipper, the stiff bulge behind it practically opens his fly for me. Only a thin layer of silk holds back his behemoth cock.

Tentatively, I tug the fabric down, letting him spring free in all his throbbing glory.

Jesus.

“Grab hold, lead me to that stool.” His words are a low rumble as his hand twists in my hair to guide me.

My small fingers can’t even wrap all the way around his thick shaft, but I tug where he points.

“Good girl. Now, get on your knees.”

Why does his voice make me rub my thighs together?

Doing as he says puts my face level with the engorged head of his dick.

I never liked doing this for Matt, and avoided it whenever possible.

But something inside me wants to do this for Dixon. Knowing I can offer him even a fraction of the pleasure he gives me, it makes me eager to do anything for him.

Both of my palms encircle him as I lick my lips in anticipation.

Just as my tongue extends and I lower my head, he pauses me with a tug on my scalp, barely brushing the bead of precum against my tastebuds.

“Unbutton your pants,” he growls. “You come first.” The pad of his thumb rubs my cheek.

Without hesitation, I open my fly and push my fingers under the hem of my panties.

“I bet you’re soaked for me. Show me.” With the belt still around his palm, he brushes a strand of hair from my face.

---