Page 53 of Flippin' Cowboy
When he finally withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty, she whimpered an inarticulate protest.
His smile was smug as he raised his glistening fingers to his mouth and licked them. “Mm, sweet as honey.”
Winnie sagged back against the wall. “Wow,” she breathed. “But you haven’t—”
“Yeah, that was all for you,” he soothed. “But I’m going to have to fuck you now. I want to feel your sweet, wet pussy clutching me as you come.”
As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small square packet.
She snatched in out of his fingers. “Let me.”
Then she eagerly fumbled at the zipper of his jeans. She pulled them down to his ankles, and he stepped out of them. Then she palmed the hard length of his cock through his briefs before hooking her fingers in his waistband and freeing his impressive length from the imprisoning fabric.
Winnie fisted him, enjoying his thick length as she rolled on the condom with languorous strokes.
She barely got it on before Nick pushed her back against the wall. He guided his cock against her folds, his breath hot against her cheek.
As it turned out, her climax had only been an appetizer. She was far from satisfied.
“Hurry!” Frantic with need, she clutched his broad, hard shoulders and kissed his mouth.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers sliding around her hips to grab her butt.
Then he lifted her, his hard length dragging along her inner thigh like a wicked promise.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” Winnie said, clamping her legs around his waist.
Nick lined himself up. Then his hips snapped forward and he pushed into her.
He was so much bigger than she expected, and the burn and stretch inside her was exactly what her empty, aching pussy had needed.
He began moving, slow, deliberate thrusts. Winnie clung to him, her head spinning with the pleasure surging through her body. Her hips banged against the wall each time he drove into her.
A fresh spiral of pleasure began to tighten inside her belly. Winnie’s mouth opened as she tried to get enough air. She felt as if she was about to combust.
“Oh, yeah,” Nick groaned. “You feel incredible, sweetheart. I can’t get enough of you.”
Winnie had never thought of herself as a “loud sex” person. Now, she couldn’t stop her desperate cries and moaning pleas formore, more, more, yes, yes, right there, harder.
Pressed up against the wall like this, she had no leverage, no way to steer him or change the pace. Nick was doing all the work, and it felt gloriously selfish.
“Winnie,” he panted, forcing her harder against the wall. “Talk to me. I want to make it good for you.”
“You already have. You feel amazing,” she managed, as his shaft dragged over every tender, pulsating fold.
The lingering ripples of her climax suddenly turned hot and urgent.
I can’t seriously be coming again, she thought, stunned.
In her experience, she was a “one and done” girl. Multiple orgasms only happened in movies and romance novels.
“Oh, oh, my God!” Winnie writhed in Nick’s grip.
“That’s my girl,” he growled.
His thrusts sped up, his hips pistoning against her, until she thought he might drive her straight through the wall.
She was drowning in sensation. His cock, his hands bruising her hips, his mouth working magic against hers, and his grunt and hard shudder as he found his own release—they were all too much.
