Page 11 of Rough Hands on the Prairie
He doesn’t push. He just grunts and presses me back, parting my thighs with his knee. He shoves off his pants—lets them fall—and when his cock springs free…
Holy. Hell.
Even in the faint glow from the snow-lit window, I can see enough to know…
He’s big. Thick. Beautiful.
My lips part. No sound. Just heat.
"You think you can take me?" he rasps, fist stroking the length of himself.
I don’t answer. I just grab the back of his neck and pull him down—into me.
And then…
He slides in.
My body stretches, opens, clenches around him like it’s never known anything else. I gasp—a sound between pain and bliss—and he freezes, forehead to mine.
The look in his eyes? It guts me.
Like I’m the only woman he’s ever seen. Like heknowsI’m his.
And then we move.
A rhythm. A rhythm born of bodies and breath and instinct. He moves slow. Deep. Then faster. Until I can’t think.
I claw at his back. I bite my lip. I cry out into his mouth.
And he never stops looking at me.
This isn’t how I pictured losing my virginity—not by a fire, not with a man from another century—but nothing has ever felt more right.
He wraps an arm around my back and holds me tight as he drives deeper, grunting with every thrust. His hips flex, his muscles trembling.
I feel him starting to lose control.
I want him to.
Ineedhim to.
A low growl in my ear. One final thrust. His heat spills inside me, pulsing, marking,claiming.
And, as our mouths come together again, he sinks himself deeper inside of me. I let out something between a gasp and a whimper against his lips. The feeling of my body being opened like this, it’s a shock, but not a bad one.
I had been prepared for it to hurt, just like I had often been told it would, but instead, something seems to welcome him in as though we have been made for each other.
He draws his face back from mine just long enough that he can look into my eyes, and the passionate need on his face sends another throb of pleasure through my already-overstimulated body.
I grasp for him again, and, at last, we fall into a pace that suits both of us, our bodies coming together over and over again.
In that dim light, I drink in the look on his face, committing it all to memory. It feels...right. As though the universe has come together to put us in the same place at the same time so I can experience what it’s like to be close to someone like this... He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to his chest, his hips flexing as he continues to move deep inside me.
I can feel his body starting to stiffen, his thighs clenching, and I can tell from the sound of his breath in my ear that he isclose. I want nothing more than to push him over the edge, than to know that I’m enough for him – this wild man from another century, this man who wants me, even though he must believe I’m utterly insane.
I want him to lose it inside me. Forme.
My pleasure builds. Fast. Ferocious. I’ve made myself come before, sure—but this?
