She was panting now, her fingers pinching and plucking her nipples. “You won’t do that h-here?” she stammered.
“Only thing I’m planning on doing out here is chasing you, tying your hands together, and fucking you in the dirt,” I told her simply.
Those honey-sweet lips parted, and her hands fell away, heat blooming in her cheeks. “You’re going to chase me?”
I gave her a single nod before jerking my chin. “Run, Wildflower.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Abbie
My bare feet pounded against the pine-needle-covered ground, my body feeling free for the first time in over have a decade, humming with anticipation. I rounded a tree and put my backagainst it, ignoring the rough bark against my skin. The summer air felt good against my skin, and to my right, I heard a twig snap, followed by Beau’s velvet voice.
“My pretty little wildflower,” he praised in the distance, hidden among the trees.
I smiled through my pants, feeling the wetness between my thighs. From above, I heard the cry of hawk, and I looked up, seeing its mighty wings soar over the tree line. I took that as my sign to run, and I pushed off the tree, running through the forest, my hair flying behind me, my breasts bouncing with every step as my body cried out for him, a raw, overwhelming need pulsing between my thighs. Eventually, the pine trees began to thin, their needles fading underneath my feet, replaced my lush grass. I looked over my shoulder, finding Beau chasing after me, his lasso in hand now.
Oh, God.
When I looked straight ahead again, I came into a small clearing, the sunlight covering the soft green grass dotted with orange and pink wildflowers. I came to a stop in the middle of it, completely in awe of the beauty around me. To my north, I could see the Langston brothers’ mountain, the trees finally blooming years after the fire Beau told me about and to my east and west, there was nothing but bright blue skies and fluffy, pure white clouds. It was breathtaking.
“Jesus.”
I spun, smiling wide at my cowboy, who was standing a few feet from me now. His eyes were fierce, the blue flame within them burning brighter than the sky above us. The shadow of his hat couldn’t even hide it.
“You still want me to run, cowboy?” I asked, tipping my chin.
He didn’t answer me, tossing his lasso around me instead. It rested on my shoulders, and he said nothing, holding onto the rope. “Is that the best you got?” I taunted, breathless.
In a flash, the rope was tightened around my neck, and my eyes went wide.
“No, baby. I got a lot more,” he finally said, his voice dark.
Then, he tugged.
I jerked forward with a gasp, but he kept pulling. He roped me into his arms, my naked body plastered against his clothed one, my hands braced against his biceps, my fingers clinging to the cotton of his white T-shirt. With a snarl, he fisted my hair and slammed his mouth down on mine.
He kissed me until my knees went weak, not stopping when I melted against him. The rest of the rope was curled into his hand at the base of my spine, the rough ends swaying against my ass as he devoured me.
“Finally plucked my wildflower,” he growled against my lips, his teeth scraping against mine.
From behind, he tugged at the rope, forcing my head back before he trailed his lips down my neck, tracing his tongue around the rope. My hands slid up his arms and over his shoulders, holding on as the rope kept me right where he wanted me. His big, rough hand cupped my ass, kneading and squeezing my flesh before giving it a light smack. He pulled back, and I was pulled into the heat of his eyes, compelled by the pleasure I craved.
Holding his gaze, I dropped one of my hands from his shoulder, to his chest, down his abdomen, feeling the chorded muscled underneath his shirt, not stopping until I was cupping the front of his jeans. His eyelids were hooded then, his lips tipping up on one side. “That what you want?”
I nodded, feeling the rope tighten around my neck with the movement. I was still able to breathe and I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.
“Drop to your knees for me, Abbie,” he murmured. “I want to fuck your pretty little throat in the middle of this meadow.”
I did as he asked, dragging my hands down the length of him as I went. He wrapped the rope around his fist a few times and cupped the underside of my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “What are you?”
“Your little fuck toy,” I whispered, my nipples growing tighter by the second.
He hummed, his thumb stroking my jaw, the sunlight making him look like a god. “What else are you, Abbie?”
“Your woman.”
A slow, magnificent smile stretched across his handsome face then, taking my breath away. “That’s exactly right,” he praised, dropping his hand from my jaw and working his belt, flicking it open before undoing his pants.