Page 23 of Rodeo Rivals
“Good girl.”
Fucking Christ. Of course he had to saythat.
Arching her back, she let out another deep, feral moan. Though it was nothing compared to the warmth of his mouth over her sex. Removing his thumb, he swirled his tongue in figure eights while curling his fingers in a come-hither motion inside her.
She slapped the table and rocked her head back and forth. Her body felt like a sparkler on the Fourth of July—fizzing and popping but not quite exploding. Sheneededmore, but her brain wasn’t working enough to come up with what thatmorecould be. She sure as shit couldn’t take anything else inside her. There wasn’t enough room. He’d split her in half if he tried that.
She quivered at the thought. Death by orgasm. What a way to go.
When he flicked his tongue against her clit, she lost it. Trembling, she squeezed his head between her thighs and found the edge of the orgasmic cliff. Though she couldn’t go over it. The pleasure was just barely out of her reach.
“Fuck me, goddammit,” she hissed.
“Now, that’s not a nice way to ask me,” he drawled into her sex.
When he withdrew his fingers, she whimpered. “No,” she pleaded.
What the hell? Shewanted more, not less!
Using the tips of his fingers, he traced her slit and teased her even more. “So, it’s my cock you want to come on?”
“Yes,” she said between gritted teeth. “Fuck me.”
She’d take anything he’d offer at this point.
On his feet now, he stared down at her and drove his fingers deep inside her. The force slid her up the table until her head grazed the wall. Stars flashed across her vision, and her body pulsed with greedy need.
“Say please, McKayla.”
Grinding her sex against the palm of his hand, all she could do was moan. Words were beyond her. All she wanted was sensations.
His belt clanked against the edge of the table. Over her own panting, she heard his jeans flopping down to the floor and the tearing of the condom wrapper. She couldn’t speak—only feel.
Leaning over her, he filled her vision. Every one of her senses was overwhelmed by him. His cologne, the tequila on his breath, the view of him, the feel of him once again removing his fingers from her sex. All she could process was Wyatt and her desire for him.
Dipping his glistening digits that were once inside her into his mouth, he closed his eyes and sucked. She’d never been so lost in hedonism as she was in that moment.
“Delicious,” he groaned as the head of his cock pressed against her opening.
Reaching for him, she whined, “Please, fuck me.”
He drove himself inside her with the force of a speeding train. In and out, he rocked his hips hard and fast. His hands rested on her shoulders, giving him leverage to take her with the utmost animalistic desire.
This wasn’t the gentle lovemaking of a shy, inexperienced teenager losing his virginity. It felt more like a desperate man hate-banging his mortal enemy. McKayla had never been as thoroughly fucked in her life. It was glorious.
Every muscle in her body tightened and she grabbed at his forearms. Her nails dug into his flesh as she clenched on the edge of the abyss. He lifted her legs so her calves rested against his shoulders and bent her in half, changing the angle, he pistoned in and out of her.
That was it. The thick head of his cock slammed against her G-spot and it was more than she could handle. She screamed through her release right before he grunted through his own.
17
Wyatt
Wyatt wasn’t big on cuddling or anything. Though it would’ve been nice to see McKayla again. She was cozy and soft in all the right places. He actually fell asleep quicker with her by his side. He could get used to that.
Then again, they had utilized every surface in his camper before they finally tried out the bed. That helped get someone to sleep for sure.
Considering they only shared a bed twice, and both times they fucked for hours, could he really attribute his quick and deep slumber toheror the strenuous activity? It wasn’t worth thinking about.
