Page 10 of Snowed in with the Cowboy

CHAPTER 11

Minnie

Clay is true to his word. He nips, sucks, and licks at my skin until he lands near my breast. Still, he doesn’t go where I need him the most. He’s building me up slowly which, truth be told, I’m not the least bit surprised. Clay Garcia seems like the type of man who will take his time and won’t finish until he knows the job is done completely. His tongue skates around my nipple, first one and then the other, not taking it into his mouth no matter how much I arch my body.

“More.” My hands go to the back of his head, attempting to hold him to my breast. It doesn’t work. He’s a man on a mission, chipping away at my patience one devastating lick at a time. In the grand scheme of things, the wait will be more than worth it, and in the meantime, I’ll keep pressing my thighs together, clenching the muscles back and forth.

“You want something, sweetheart, tell me,” he whispers across my skin. The wetness he left in his wake only makes me shiver with goose bumps even more.

“I want your mouth on my nipples.” Clay’s looking up at me as he drags his tongue around the puckered flesh again and again. My eyes close, head slamming back on the refrigerator. A shocking contrast, the cold metal to my heated skin.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.” He wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth. An electrical jolt radiates through me. My leg hikes over his hip, trying to gain some type of friction, needing to come so badly I’d do anything to ride out the feeling he gives to me. He moves from one to the other, giving both the attention I crave and desire. What he doesn’t do is linger too long. Nope, he's hellbent on making me squirm.

“Oh god.” Clay lowers his body, tasting my sweat-slickened skin along the way. I’m in over my head with a man willingly going to his knees for me, a man’s man.

“Going to hear you scream my name, sweetheart.” He looks up at me one last time. A puff of air hits my clit just as he hitches my leg over his shoulder, hand going to my lower stomach and holding me steady, or at least I think he is. His tongue hits my clit, and he doesn’t mess around. He tastes me, down one side and up the other, sinking inside me and opening his mouth, overwhelming me in the best way possible. His hand presses deeper, his other disappears from holding the back of my thigh, and that’s when I feel it. Clay’s mouth is wrapped around my clit, greedily sucking on the tight nub while one finger slides in, gliding in and out. The only noises in the house are my panting, Clay’s breathing, and the wetness he’s helped create between his mouth and fingers.

“Clay.” My eyes close when I feel him adding another digit, hooking them forward. My stomach shudders. He presses my lower abdomen and then works me all the way up until I’m completely and utterly depleted of energy. My orgasm hits fast and hard. Wetness coats me like I’ve never felt before, and it’s in that moment I realize why he had his hand on my stomach. Clay wasn’t using it to hold me up; he was doing it to create something I’ve never felt before. Jesus, I’ve only heard about this happening to others or in the form of a romance book Lenniemade me read because she swore the sex scenes were hot. I can now clearly state real life is in fact better than fiction. Clay’s lips and tongue thoroughly work their way over my sensitive skin, whether it’s to continue tasting me or licking me clean, I’m not sure, and I really don’t think I care enough to ask either.

He stands up, hands clasping my waist, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around him. My hands grip his shoulders. I won’t be the only one with marks all over my body. Clay will have a matching set. My nails dig into his skin when he grazes my clit with the underside of his cock. Wetness from his mouth and my orgasm coats his length. A shudder rolls through me, still coming down from my orgasm.

“Oh God, you’re big. Too big.” He slams inside of me with one swift shift of his hips. He may have worked me with his mouth and fingers, but he’s big, really big, bigger than I’ve ever had before.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” He holds still. My legs tighten around his waist.

“I’m good.” My muscles relax around him. Greediness takes over, and then I’m lifting up slightly, barely an inch with how he has me pinned to the fridge. It’s an utterly amazing sensation to know this sexy cowboy can hold me up without even flinching.

“Hold on, Clementine. I’m gonna fuck you now.” As if he hasn’t been doing that since the moment our clothes dropped to the ground. A tight delicious burn works with each snap of his hips, this time slower and steadier. His eyes lock on mine, our breaths mingling with one another and each powerful movement of his body enveloping mine.

It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced.

It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before.

And it’s looking a lot like love.

“Clay,” I whimper his name. The pain is gone. Nothing but pleasure is taking over. Every time he pulls back and pushes inwith a swivel of his hip, his pelvis hits my clit. It’s enough for me to see stars. “I’m not going to be able to last much longer,” I tell him. The inferno inside me is blazing, yet goose bumps coat my body.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good, wet and tight, taking me so good. You like this, don’t you. Taking me bare, knowing I’m going to come inside you, feeling myself mixed with you. Gonna want this forever, Clementine.” His admission sets me off. My center clenches down, his words and the way he moves doing it for me.

“Clay!” True to his words, he’s making me scream his name. My orgasm hits fast and hard. Even if I wanted it to slow down, there’s no way I could.

“Christ, Clementine.” His eyes close just as mine open, and I get to watch him lose himself inside me. It’s the hottest thing ever. I feel him come inside me. Each flex of his hips has him pouring deep into me. His orgasm may only be subsiding, but I can’t wait to have him again.

CHAPTER 12

Clay

Clementine is dozing on the couch, wearing one of my shirts I grabbed from the laundry room, slid on her, and told her I’d grab whatever she needed from her van. There’s no need for her to get out in what has to be two feet of snow. Hell, she’d have to wear more of my clothes, which I’ve got no problem with, but I’d rather her be safe and sound inside my house. The list she gave me wasn’t long: her laptop, charger, some clothes, and a pair of slippers. I grabbed her a pair of socks immediately after she made the comment for the shoes. In all fairness, I should have done that a while ago. This house can get damn cold with the hardwood floors, even with the fireplaces going. I go about stoking the fire, adding more wood and making sure the screen is closed.

The house is quiet with only the news playing softly in the background on the television. I grumbled and groaned when Clementine suggested it, not wanting to listen to the doom and gloom. She made a valid point that when her sister, Lennie, called, or she checked in with her, it’d be better to have the facts than to hem and haw only to create more worry. As the news would have it, the two feet of snow we have on the ground now will double if not triple come tomorrow morning. We’ll bestaying put indefinitely, and I warned Clementine she’d need to call her sister today before it gets much worse with the snow. The phone and power company have yet to switch to underground lines. Kind of hard to do with digging into the rocky terrain.

I drop a kiss to her forehead, pull the blanket up to her chin, and smirk at how tired and worn out she is. All her energy is completely zapped from her body after the two orgasms I gave her. After we cleaned up, me helping her for the majority of it since I’m the man who made her walk bow legged to the point she was nearly unable to walk, I placed her on the kitchen counter and made her a cup of coffee, this time with creamer consisting of milk instead of the normal half and half she prefers. The next time I head into town, I’ll have to grab her more of what she likes. After I prepared pancakes, bacon, and eggs, I stood between her spread legs while feeding her a bite and then myself until we were both full.

I never thought I’d have a woman in my home, much less a woman like Clementine Sinclair. She’s strong yet soft and independent yet still needs a man, this man, at times.

My phone is on the coffee table. I chose to keep it on silent instead of it blasting through the room and waking up my sleeping beauty. I pick it up to check if I missed anything important and see that Amos sent a text hours ago. There’s only a handful of people who have my new phone number. When I hung up my hat in Texas, changing numbers and being unavailable to outsource animals became my first priority once the property sold. That part of my life is closed, yet some people couldn’t get it through their thick head. If they didn’t want animals, they’d call to ask me to do long-haul trailering even though most of them knew that type of service only came if they bought animals from me.

Amos: Hey, bud, you doing good? This weather on your first winter is shit.

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