Page 10 of The Cowboy's Close Quarters Claim

Gunner teases my nipples through tank top till the material is wet from his tongue sliding over each stiff peak and I've barely got a practical thought left in my brain.

Tonight has ended up going a hell of a lot differently than I'd expected.

That last practical thought-- the one about bad ideas and bosses and employees and having to get up at dawn to start working-- that thought winks out of existence like a candle being snuffed as the rough skin of Gunner's callused hands slides over my bare skin.

One large hand works its way under my top and wraps around my breast, giving it a squeeze that's not exactly gentle. Paired with the feel of his hot mouth clamping over my now bare nipple, it's already enough to have me panting and needy; but when Gunner's other hand presses against my hip and I feel his fingers slip under the edge of my underwear, that's when I lose the last ounce of restraint I might have been holding onto.

A warm hand works the shorts down my legs till they're forgotten somewhere in the dark, then thick, blunt fingers move between my thighs and stroke through the folds of my sex.

"You're so fucking wet we're gonna have to hang the blankets out to dry in the morning."

"Nice to know you're still an asshole even when you've got your face full of pussy." Just to make my point, I lift my hips in search of friction.

"It wasn't a complaint, darling."

His voice is dark and as rough as the pads of his fingers as they slip through my seam and across my swollen clit.

The involuntary buck of my hips earns me an appreciative grunt.

"Hold still. You're squirming like a roped calf."

"Just get to it, O'Leary, you're wasting my time."

I do my best to hide the anticipation from my voice, but it still comes out sounding reedy and wanting.

My hands find the top of his head and I wind my fingers through the longer strands I can find, steering him in the direction I need him.

He doesn't spend more time trying my patience. His tongue connects to my center, hot and slick as he probes my opening before firmly licking back to my clit.

He doesn't eat me out like he's taking a taste test. There's nothing hesitant or careful about it and I fucking love it.

Gunner's confident touch is enough to have me grinding against his rough chin, my fingers tightening their grip in his hair to pull him closer.

Either that, or the noises I'm making, is enough to convince him to give me more, or maybe he's the one who needs more. I feel him shift his position between my knees, giving him better leverage so he can seal his mouth to my pussy and begin a full-fledged assault that has me gasping.

I'm determined not to let the man's name fall out of my panting mouth-- Gunner already thinks highly enough of himself as it is-- but then he slides one, then two, of those broad fingers deep into my channel, stroking along the perfect spot inside me like he's done it a thousand times.

The pressure is building and I'm moving frantically now, chasing an itch that has to be scratched before I lose my mind. Then his lips lock on my clit and there's no way I could tell you what he does next because I'm coming harder than I ever have in my life.

Apparently, that includes screaming his name like he just scored the winning touchdown in a small-town homecoming game because when the white noise starts to recede from my hearing and my vision clears, he's looking up at me with a lopsided smirk on his face.

"Glad to hear you know who owns this sweet little cunt of yours." He slips a thumb along my seam, causing me to whimper when he hits my sensitive clit. "I like that you want everyone in a ten-mail radius to know it too. Too bad there's no one out there to hear you howlin' but the cattle."

That cocky attitude of his is enough to have me wanting revenge, but he's not letting me move. His fingers keep moving, strumming me like a guitar and stoking the fire in me back up.

"Just fuck me, already, O'Leary." I hate to sound like I'm pleading, but who am I kidding? I'm desperate to feel that thick length from earlier moving inside me, filling me up to capacity like I know it will.

"Greedy baby," he accuses darkly as his mouth finds its way back between my thighs. "Greedy enough that you're gonna give more than one tonight."

It seems like a bad idea to argue with the boss, so I let my legs fall open a little more to give the man room to work.

Gunner

Clementine's pussyis the sweetest thing I've ever put to my lips. I'll be addicted after this, but I don't care. There's no way I'm going to let her go now anyway and by the time I'm done with her tonight, she won't be able to remember any man before me-- and there sure as hell won't be another one after me.

I love the way she meets me halfway, rocking up to meet every touch I give her like she's going to force her orgasm from me. As if I had an intention of holding back on her.

That's not me, I want her coming all over my face. I'm starved for the feel of her clenching down on my fingers while I drink up every drop of cream that's spilling over my hand. After knowing what this feels like? I can't imagine I everwon'tbe starved for her.

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