Page 87 of The Outlaw and the Heir

It was all the incentive he needed to pull his fingers free, which left me with a vaguely empty feeling that I could ignore since it would be remedied soon. He grabbed the jar of oil from beside him and reached to grease himself up. With his dry hand, he reached up and grabbed my hip, giving a little tug to show he was ready for me and letting me take over what came next.

I lowered myself, feeling him push against me as my body did its thing and resisted the intrusion. I tightened the grip of my legs and pushed down with my hips, grunting when the thick head pushed into me and spread me further than his fingers. Letting out a shaky breath, I lowered myself little by little, feeling him creep inside me. It had only been a week, but the sensation of him filling me up felt like it had been ages, and I was eager enough to ignore the burn until I was seated in his lap.

"God," he murmured, fingers tightening on my hip. He was so hard I could feel his heartbeat pulse inside me.

"Don't ask if I'm okay," I said as I saw him open his mouth to ask that very question. I was proven right when I saw his mouth close with an audible click.

I wasn't going to wait until my body was completely ready. I rarely did in my eagerness to have him. I lifted my hips, resting on my knees so I could lower myself. It was tough going at first, but with his help and steadying myself on his shoulders, I moved a little more easily. At first, he seemed to move through me like pushing through molasses, but the more I pushed down, and the more I felt his length push against the spot inside me that took my breath away, the more I loosened up.

Eventually, I could move easily, practically bouncing in his lap as I went up as far as I dared to bring myself back down again. His eyes burrowed into mine, his noises soft but full of growling pleasure and desire as he gripped me tightly. Having to do most of the work helped to make sure I was quiet as pleasure echoed through me, drawing more pleasure with every movement.

His hand, still slick with oil, reached between us and wrapped around me, holding me tight as I fucked myself into it every time I rose from his lap. The effect had me almost dizzy, but I held on tight as I continued, knowing it wasn't going to take long and not caring. All that mattered was he was inside me, that we had this pleasure together, and I would be staring him in the eye when I?—

"Oh God," I groaned, and he reached up with his free hand to clamp it over my mouth and keep me from making too much noise as I pulsed in his hand. I was grateful as pleasure screamed through me, and I felt myself tighten around him as I painted his chest and stomach. His hold on my head and hip allowed him to shove me down, burying himself completely and adding another blast of ecstasy as he gave a low growl, bursting inside me. I shuddered and rocked, feeling him fill me up inan entirely different way. His face twisted into an expression of pure pleasure as he held me until we were both finished.

"I'm...going to lay you…" he told me when we were finally able to talk.

"On my right side, I know," I said with a chuckle, feeling more inclined to be gracious about his doting now everything in my body was loose and fuzzy. Well, except for the wound, which really hadn't liked the way my whole body had tensed when I'd found my release, but that was easy to ignore.

He found a clean rag to wipe us down before he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand coming to rest on my arm. I didn't know when I’d found myself needing him, not just for the sex but for everything else, but it had happened. Not that long ago, I would have considered the idea as abhorrent as it was terrifying, but now it filled me with cozy bemusement as I lay on my side, watching him stare at nothing.

I slid my hand over his thigh, squeezing him. "Still half-hard? Someone's pent up."

"Maybe we can take care of that in a bit," he chuckled, leaning over to rest his arm on my hip. "But uh?—"

"I'm more than okay," I said with a laugh, figuring he’d probably been holding that back since we stopped. "Would it make you feel better if I was honest?"

"You can do that?"

"Do what?"

"Be honest."

I blinked and then let out a laugh. “Sometimes I forget you have a sense of humor. But yes, I am able to be honest."

"Okay, so be honest."

"It does hurt all the time. It hurt while we were doing that, but what can you expect? It hurts when I move, when I'm moved, or when I breathe heavy or roll onto it. I had a bullet shot into me, and then the wound burned. Of course, it hurts. You don'tneed to worry about if I'm going to get hurt or not because I'm in pain all the time right now. But that will pass eventually.”

I looked up to find him staring at me with a blank expression for long enough that I grew concerned. "Uh...Ambrose? Are you okay?"

He snorted, giving me a roll of his eyes. “So, your idea of makin' me feel better was to tell me that you're gonna be in pain all the time? That I'm gonna hurt ya, and I should...not care?"

"Not, not care," I said, my old exasperation at the mother hen in ranch hand form coming back. "But you don't need to fret needlessly. The pain is because I was hurt, and I’m recovering. Not because you're doing anything wrong. You don't have to freak out every time I wince or stumble. And you sure as hell don't have to fret about whether you're going to hurt me when we're fucking."

He sighed, his cheeks coloring at my language. "Ya took a bullet for my sister."

"I took a bullet, that's for sure."

"Samuel."

"What? It's the truth."

He stared at me with a hard expression, which might have been effective, but after a few seconds, I spotted his lips twitching. When he realized I'd noticed, he gave another heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Ya know, for someone who likes to talk themselves up so much, you're not all that good at acceptin' when someone else tries to do it."

"Well, if you talked about how funny I am, how intelligent I am, and clever, and how amazing my ass is, then you wouldn't hear the slightest complaint from me."

Ambrose sighed heavily again, easing himself down so he was sprawled on my thighs, forcing me to turn my body so I could still look at him while holding his weight. "You know damn well what you're doin'...and damn well what ya did. Lizziealready said she knows ya moved, so you were in the line of sight. You heard that shot and knew what he was gonna do, and you put yourself in the way."

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