Page 79 of Ace of Spades
I reach up on my toes as he spins around, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as I bring my lips to his, gentle to not injure his cut lip.
The kiss is soft, our lips exploring tenderly as we melt into each other, my fingers brushing through the dark hair peeking from under his cowboy hat. His arms raise to wrap possessively around my waist.
“What was that for?” he whispers against my lips.
“Consider it a thank you,” I tell him. “I’ve never had anybody stand up for me like that. And I know it was partly for your sister, obviously. But still, thank you.”
He flashes me that dimple of his, our lips centimeters apart.
“I would fight a hundred grown men on any given day to defend your honor, Sorrels.”
Heat rushes through me, my insides dancing at his words as our lips meet once more.
I let my hands fall to his chest, pushing him up against the wall as his back hits the wood with a faint thud. His belt buckle is cool against my touch as my hands move to undo it, the clink of the metal ringing in the air as I unbutton his jeans next, reaching inside his boxers to find him already semi-erect.
“Sorrels,” he groans against my lips. “What are you doing?”
“Thanking you,” I tell him, dropping down to my knees in front of him, the dirt cool beneath the material of my jeans.
“What about our bet? Chance said you placed first in barrels. If I remember correctly, that means that I should be the one down on my knees.”
I look up at him, his green eyes vivid in the dim barn lighting.
“Will you stop talking?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I pull his thick length out, swallowing a gulp as I realize just how massive it is now that it’s up close and staring me in the face. No wonder I was so sore after last night.
“Hailey,” Weston breathes as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, his head falling back against the wall as his eyes shut.
I use my hand to wrap about the base, taking him as far into my mouth as I can before pulling back and teasing his tip with my tongue. Forcing my throat to relax, I swallow him as far back as I can, a deep groan escaping his lips as his hips buck slightly.
I begin working his length, my free hand gripping him as my fingers curl into the back of his thighs. His tip hits the back of my throat, causing me to gag as embarrassment momentarily washes over me.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I feel the caress of his thumb on my cheek as he cups my face, looking up at him only to be ensnared by the wild lust swirling in his gaze. I breathe through my nose, adjusting to his size as I slowly start moving again, finding a rhythm.
“You’re so goddamn perfect,” he tells me, his free hand moving to grab a fistful of hair at my nape, his hips slowly thrusting as my throat accommodates him, my eyes watering from the pressure.
I remove my hand from his base, gripping onto his jeans and letting myself take him all the way, drool running down my chin as my cheeks hollow.
“Such a fucking mess for me,” Weston drawls, holding my gaze as his thumb wipes at the tears now streaming down my cheeks.
I pick up speed, mesmerized by how the vein in his neck bulges as I continue to work his shaft, reaching a hand to cup his balls.
“Fuck,” he breathes, anchoring me by the grip in my hair as he thrusts harder, chasing his release as I fight not to gag around him.
A guttural groan leaves his lips as he empties down my throat, stilling inside of me as I swallow every drop. His heavy panting resonates through the stall, the grip in my hair turning into a gentle caress as he comes down from the high.
He lifts me by the elbow, helping me to my feet as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. As soon as I’m up, his mouth slams to mine, Weston spinning the both of us so that our positions are reversed, my back pressing into the wall as his hard body presses to mine.
Both of his hands cup my face possessively as he devours me, not caring about the fact that he just finished in my mouth as he kisses me deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough. I melt into him, the two of us entwined as I feel myself falling, as if I’m drowning but I don’t want to come up for air.
Vegas lets out an agitated snort as the sound of a barn door slams down the way, voices growing louder as they head in our direction.
“Weston,” I breathe. “Someone’s going to see us.”
