Page 34 of Wrangled Up

With a swift movement, he plucked her off her feet and pinned her against the rough wood of the coop.

Heat lashed at her insides. His musky scent captured her, sucked her in. He ground his lower body against hers—thighs and denim and a thick erection. Her panties grew wet and she wished she hadn’t changed out of her uniform into jeans. Her dress would be easier access.

Christian wasn’t about to let that stop him. He gripped her thighs and hitched her upward, pressing her legs around his waist. She clung to him, rocking her aching pussy against the steel of his shaft.

When he kissed her, he scraped his rough facial hair over her sensitive skin, raising prickles of awareness. Every nerve in her body was attuned to him—his scent, taste, feel.

And God, was he a looker. Especially when he gave her that blazing, I’m-going-to-fuck-you-against-this-wall stare.

She moaned.

The barn wood covering the building at her back snagged at her shirt, heightening her experience. Suddenly she wanted to know those rough edges on her skin while Christian assaulted her from the front.

He slipped his palms under her ass and squeezed. “Give me your tongue.”

She opened for him, and he sucked her in. Drew on her until she bucked wildly.

He tore his mouth away, panting hard. “Jeezus, sweetheart.”

Fumbling between them, she located his button and zipper. When she eased his throbbing length from his clothing, his eyes dilated. Remnants of daylight faded, leaving only purple shadows and the hot rasp of his breath.

“Not here,” she said, squeezing the tip of his cock lightly. Juices oozed over her fingers.

He dragged her away from the coop to the solid barn ten paces away. “Here. I can’t wait another minute for you.”

“Mmm.”

“Hell, yes,” he grated out. He let her slide down his body slowly, allowing her to feel every straining inch of him. The instant her feethit the ground, he attacked her clothing, reaching under her hem, locating her bra hooks and popping them. She stripped off her shirt and took the bra with it, throwing them to the ground.

Her jeans were no match for his adept fingers, which navigated her body like the most experienced lover. Though they’d only been alone together once, he knew the places to touch that drove her to the brink of insanity.

Sweet heat pulsated in her core. The view of his bobbing erection filled her with wanting as strong as any she’d known with Tucker.

The realization took her breath away.

She threw herself into kissing Christian, raking her fingers over his broad shoulders and delivering open-mouthed sweeps that made him groan. When he shoved her jeans and panties down her hips, she toed off her boots and stepped out of the cloth.

He dropped his own jeans to his ankles. His T-shirt clung to his skin, but he peeled it away too. A whiff of his personal musk and hard work fueled her need. With shaking hands, he fumbled with a condom.

As he stared at her, electricity snapped between them. His chest worked as if he’d just run a mile after an escaped horse.

Slowly, she flattened her palms on his broad chest.

In a violent motion, he lifted her and speared her on his rubber-covered cock. She cried out as the thick tip parted her inner walls and channeled directly to the spot that would flay every last nerve.

She clutched at his shoulders, riding him, levered by his strong arms and her own want.

“Christ, sweetheart. You’re. So. Damn. Tight.”

Twisting to find his mouth, she kissed him wildly. Tasting. Giving, taking. In the recesses of her mind, she was aware of the sharp chafe of the wood against her back and the low clucking of chickens scattered around them. Her breathing grew labored as her release pounded her body.

Crying out, she gripped Christian hard. “Come with me,” she whimpered.

He did, back muscles rigid as he poured himself into her. The heated waves slammed her, towed her under, raked her flat.

She gained her senses to find him completely lucid, eyes shining with joy.

Dipping his head, he claimed her mouth in a sweet and tender kiss. The light crush of his lips undid her more than the tempest of their fuck against the barn. She closed her eyes and held in the droplets that threatened to spill. Tears for the loss of her heart, which was already in a state of agony at Tucker’s loss.

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