Page 28 of Wild and Unruly
“I need verbal confirmation.”
“Verbal confirmation,” I repeat, mostly because it’s the only thing I can do right now when all I want is to rip my jeans off and spread myself for this man.
“You have to say it’s okay. You have to tell me I’m not hurting you or moving too fast.”
“It’s not too fast.”
He hesitates and I worry maybe I’m pushing him, maybe he’s not ready. “Stetson, if you’re not ready for this step, we can stop.”
His gaze meets mine, and I’ve never seen a look like that on any man before. It makes me feel like I’m going to melt into a puddle.
“Bo.” He swallows and licks his lips. “I’m trying real hard to hold back, but if you tell me it’s okay, I’m about to strip thesejeans off and taste you until you’re screaming my name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”
I frown for a moment and look around at the empty woods, then look back to Stetson, who raises an eyebrow and nods. “Exactly.”
I sit up further until we’re almost chest to chest, and I give him a long kiss, pulling us back in the moment. Then, I lie down and start to unbutton my jeans, scooting them down my legs, and watch as Stetson takes the job into his own hands and slides my boots and jeans off. Then he reaches up and tears my panties down my legs, leaving me completely exposed.
I can tell by looking at him that it would be relieving for him to take his own jeans off, but then he looks at me and says, “Lie back. Lay the hat over your eyes.”
“Over my eyes?”
His eyes hold mine as he says, “I want you to focus only on my touch.”
Holy heck, this is actually happening.
I do as I’m told. I feel him move my thighs up and out of the way, lying them on his shoulders, and I have a brief thought that I’m so glad I got a pedicure last week.
“Honey, I’m not focusing on your toes.”
I pinch my eyes shut at the realization that I said that out loud, but the worry over embarrassing myself ends abruptly when his tongue hits my core. I feel my muscles tense and feel his hands come and wrap around my hips, holding me to him as he kisses over my mound and down over my clit before licking my core again.
I let out a rough breath of air and focus on the feel of him working me over. It was sadly not going to take much to get meto the end, but I was enjoying every little second of what this man’s tongue was doing to me.
I reach for something, anything to hold while I let him take care of…whatever he needs to take care of. I let a moan out, and he hums back in a new kind of communication I didn’t know existed.
He lifts me higher, holding me while his tongue drives forward, making me gasp and moan louder. Finally, my hands find his, and he manages to hold on to my hands, pulling me closer and closer. His tongue works in and out, leaving me breathless, and when he lets go of one of my hands, I let it wind into his hair while his fingers find my clit.
The magic the man works over me has me breathless in seconds, and I moan and gasp as I come harder than I’ve ever come in my life. For a few seconds, he continues to work me over until I’m trembling so hard I’m afraid my muscles are going to freeze up.
“Well, if they do, I’m excellent at massage.”
I’m still lying there breathless when sunlight hits my eyelids again, and I see Stetson placing his hat on his own head, looking down at me with a satisfied grin on his face.
He lies down beside me, resting on one elbow and reaching over, cupping my jaw, and placing firm but sweet kisses on my mouth. I’m still lying there in just my bra as his hand moves down over my stomach and pulls me closer.
“You know you’re fucking gorgeous, right?”
I blush—actually blush—after what he’s done to me, and lift a hand to my forehead, shaking my head with a crazy smile on my face. “You know your tongue is magical, right?”
“Ah.” He leans back over me, nearly covering me again, and places several kisses all over my face before leaning back to lookat me again. I can’t describe the look he’s giving me, and I almost don’t want to, scared I could be wrong. “We’re gonna have some fun together, Bo. Just wait and see.”
Smith Performance Horses had a brand-new facility, its old barn nowhere to be seen, and a new, huge, and shiny barn sat where it used to be. At the front of the entrance to the barn are white columns that are as big as the ones at the White House.
It’s excessive and showy and clearly spent using the money he takes from his poor, naïve clients. I would know. I used to be one of them.
Walking inside, there’s a hallway that leads to the actual barn area, and I stop in horrified surprise to see a large trophy case extending what has to be twelve feet to take up one side. There are belt buckles and trophies, pictures of clients in the winner’s circle, and ribbons by the excess.
So much so that they’ve lined the bottom of the case with them.
