Page 43 of Wrangled Up

Oh my God, where’s his shirt?

At some point, he’d stripped it off and tucked the end into his back pocket. It moved with him, brushing his leg in a way she longed to do.

Who was she kidding? She wanted to rub herself all over him.

She stuck two fingers into her mouth and blew. Her shrill whistle pierced the air. Christian stopped walking and looked straight at her.

Her heart throbbed once…twice. Then it flipped again and sped out of control. Racing, just like her feet were now. Without conscious thought, she’d taken off toward him, running through the grass like a lovestruck woman in a cheesy commercial.

The matching corny grin claimed her features.

Christian kicked it into high gear too, walking impossibly fast even for his long legs. As she neared, she was able to see the harsh rise and fall of his chest and sweat beading his torso.

She drew up short, her curls jiggling forward as if to reach him first. She released several small pants that had nothing to do with exertion.

“Hell, Claire.” He yanked her flush against him.

Dark heat slithered low through her belly. He jerked her off balance, and they tumbled into the high grasses, his strong body pinning hers. The scents of wild switchgrass flooded her senses, along with hard-working male musk.

He stared down into her eyes for a single beat before slamming his mouth over hers. Claiming her. Devouring her.

She nipped at his lips and tongue, writhing to get closer to his extreme heat. His steely erection ground the V of her legs, causing her clit to swell and throb.

“I need you. Right here. Now.” He spattered kisses down her throat to the tops of her breasts even as he adeptly stripped her.

“Hurry,” she breathed. She raked her fingers over his shoulders and down his spine, weaving them under the fabric of his waistband.

He flashed a crooked grin, then ducked his head and sucked her nipple through the cloth of her shirt. Gasping, she arched, seeking more of his insanely hot touch.

When he popped her jeans button, she thought she’d combust. His scent maddened her. The heat of his skin drove her out of control.

He sank his teeth into her nipple hard enough to make her squeak. But oh, what a delicious feeling. Her skin broke out in goose bumps. Then suddenly, he manhandled her out of her top and bra, her jeans, panties andboots, until she was stretched bare beneath the hot harvest sky.

He rested back on his heels, gazing at her with an intensity that made her squirm. Wetness pooled between her thighs and her need to be touched chased over her skin.

He yanked his jeans to his knees and then stood to kick out of boots and fabric. She stared up at him, memorizing the ripples of his upper body and the hard bulk of his hips.

She let her thighs fall apart.

Christian groaned. Very slowly, he stooped to collect the abandoned rope from the ground. She shivered when he doubled it and created a loose loop. “Give me your wrist.”

Her stomach pitched sharply with excitement. She extended her hand, and he slipped the rope around her wrist. With a few tugs, he tightened the coarse hemp. Prickles of awareness broke over her.

“Other wrist.” His gravely tone made her pussy squeeze hard. She did his bidding, and he bound her hands together but about a foot apart. She waited helplessly, gagging for what would come next, as he located one of the rubbers in his wallet and slid it into place.

His eyes darkened. Easing over her body, he guided the rope loop around his neck and poised at her apex. “Hold on, cowgirl. This is gonna be a bumpy ride.”

He buried himself to the root. His cock stretched her perfectly, and she cried out. Juices pooled around his invasion. Using the rope, she tugged his head down and kissed him.

With a jerk of his hips, he pulled out. Gazed at her until her skin pebbled. Then slammed into her once more. Every inch of his cock set her ablaze. A throb the same tempo as her heart took up residence in her belly.

She yanked him down using the rope again.

He hissed as the fibers obviously abraded his skin, just as it was chafing hers. She didn’t care. If he wore her marks and she his, she’d go to bed happy tonight.

Christian licked her lips, her tongue, the inner walls of her mouth. He rolled his tongue down to her cleavage, which he worshiped for long minutes while the sun started its descent in the sky.

When he sucked her bud into his mouth, she felt the first spasms of her release washing over her.

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