Page 51 of Chasing the Wild
Her pouty little mouth is right there, and as I collar her slender neck, she darts her tongue out to lick at my tip.
My chest tightens, and my dick jerks in my hand.
As my grip works up and down, it’s her lips that struggle to close around me, but she’s determined to take every inch. Her tongue glides, swirls, traces underneath my length.
She’s such a good fucking girl for me, taking me deeper and deeper, until I’m tapping the back of her throat as she swallows around my tip. I squeeze and massage her throat each time and feel her moan with pleasure beneath my palm.
I’m pumping faster. Tingling builds low in my spine. My stomach clenches, and the vision I have of her is so visceral as she bobs up and down. I even watch, entirely captivated, as her cheeks hollow.
My balls tighten.
Holy fuck.
My hand strokes harder, my release loading, her soft moans still ringing in my ears from last night, as if she’s right here in the shower with me. She looks so pretty, taking all of me. Hums around my length. Sucks me harder, and all I can imagine is the sight of filling all her holes, leaving no part of her unclaimed.
The filthiness of that image, of my release spilling out after fucking her bare, is what finally does me in.
A grunt bursts out of my chest, and thick ropes of cum shoot forward to paint the tiles in front of me as my cock jerks with the force of my climax.
I feel like I just ran a mile. My head spins, heart thunders, it’s too good and almost too much at the same time.
Apparently, my self-restraint is non-existent, because even though I collect myself and hose the streaks of evidence pointing to my shameful obsession off the shower wall, I can already sense that it’s not enough to satisfy my interest. It’s bad enough that she’s technically my employee, and here I am, forty-two years old, acting like a horny teenager.
This shit has got to end.
Throwing the extra layer of her past with my son into the mix makes me feel like a real asshole considering the depraved sorts of ideas occupying my mind.
Dangerous goddamn ideas that I’ve never experienced in my entire life, but when it comes to Layla, they’ve risen to the surface unbidden.
As much as I don’t want to, I have to face reality today. The spillover of me losing control like I did last night makes resignation sit heavy in my gut, knowing that I’m going to have to put in a really big fucking apology. Most of the early hours of this morning were spent laying awake worrying that she was going to have disappeared under the cover of darkness. Lying in bed, my hearing was attuned to every goddamn creak in the house—could have sworn the front door clicked shut about three times.
I wouldn’t have blamed her. Seeing the crushed look on her face as soon as I stopped things between us was nearly enough to have me going back on my word. I’d rather stab myself in the eyethan be the person who causes her to have tears in hers again. She deserves so much goddamn better.
Better than I can offer her.
And that’s the entire dilemma I’m in… I want her to have the moon and the stars and the sun itself, but I don’t want anyone else to be the one giving it to her because I am a selfish, old bastard.
When it comes to Layla, it turns out I’m possessive as all hell and barely keeping that side of me on a leash. That girl would flee this mountain and never return if she knew the messed up way I can’t stand the thought of anyone else even looking at her… the ways I can’t stop myself from fantasizing about claiming her.
Which only reminds me of the shit show that today is likely to be, not to mention tonight.
Any minute now, there will be a bunch of randy bastards crawling all over my ranch. Most of them are good kids at heart, but they are all at an age where they have nothing better to do than chase after something pretty. Putting the girl currently under my roof and my care, firmly as the cherry on top of Devil’s Peak.
My fingers itch with the need to shove the barrel of my shotgun between their teeth until they get the picture.
None of them are going to lay a fucking hand on her, or I’ll cut them off and send them down the mountain bleeding out.
I’ve barely got my jeans belted and my shirt buttoned when I hear noise coming from outside.
Trucks pull into my yard, and the tightness in my chest strangles me like a vise. Looks like this morning, I’m going to have threatened half the mountain with murder before I’ve even had my coffee.
Chapter 16
Idon’t usually sit out here in the mornings. Most of the days fill up too fast for me to sneak a moment to sink into one of these ridiculously comfortable outdoor armchairs and take in the vast beauty that is Devil’s Peak, wrapped in her cloak of snow like a winter queen.
Of course, it was no surprise that I hardly slept last night and have been up since long before the first purple streaks of dawn caressed the wide horizon stretching out in front of me.
This ranch is breathtaking, achingly beautiful, yet I feel like I’m drowning under ten feet of water. There’s hardly a scrap of oxygen reaching my lungs. Life is cruel and unfair, and the worst part is that I care about Colton Wilder too much to hurt him by forcing something he refuses to act on.
