Page 123 of My Cowboy Freedom
“This here is my seduction, Prudence.” His smile was boyish and warm. “You just hush.”
“Oh shit.” I tucked my face into my arm. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Laugh, my ass. I gonna make you beg. And scream my name.” He kissed the side of my neck with a loud, smacking sound. It tickled. “Except you have to keep quiet because I don’t want everyone at the Rocking C running out here thinking some animal is in pain.”
“Ow.” A hard pinch on my nipple startled me.
“Gotcha.” He leaned in to nibble the skin he’d pinched, and then he licked me to soothe the burn. He met my gaze while scattering a series of fluttering, breathy kisses over my abs.
And lower still.
“Ah.”Christ. There go the ties, the pants, my shorts. Swept off in a second’s impatience.
Hard place? Meet Rock.
His lips closed around me, hot and wet. I curled my fingers into his soft brown hair, scrabbling to hold on to him while his mouth launched me into space.
His touch was knowing. Expert. I hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected that he’d be skilled and serious and fucking fearless.
“Oh shit.” I squirmed while he sucked me. Licked me. Worshipped me. When he drew my legs up over his shoulders that sweet suction, the rhythmic drag of his lips and the threat of teeth was too much sensation for me. I had to pull in great lungfuls of air.
All touch, all thought, all effort focused on the center of my body. His lips clung to my cock. Hands roamed my torso and over my hips, down my legs, pulling me tighter, closer to Rock, closer to release.
“Gonna.”
He pulled off.Ah, Christ.
“If I let you come, can you go again?”
No stopping. Not now!
“I’m twenty-six.” My voice cracked on the words. “I’ve been in prison for eight years. If you don’t let me come I will probably violate the hell out of my parole.”
“Whatcha going to do about it?” he teased.
I punched my dick up through his fist and nearly took his eye out. “If you won’t finish me, at least let me suck you. I’m not so good at lying here like a—”
“Rock?” Those pretty blue eyes sparkled. “You look damn good to me, babe. You look so fucking hot.”
His mouth closed over me again. Slick, careful fingers opened me with hardly any pain at all. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, until I was rocking between his hot mouth and those long, musician’s fingers, huffing short sharp breaths to get enough air.
Swipes of his tongue over my piss-slit laid me bare, like he was trying to tease something loose from my foreskin. Lashes of sensation melted over my body, warm and cold. Shivery and painful.
His tongue was too good and too much and just enough. I felt myself slide into orgasm when he pressed the tip of his tongue... oh, right there.
“There. Oh God. Yes. There.” Dizzying spirals of colors swirled behind my closed eyelids. My hips shot up, and I flooded his mouth, shooting pulse after giddy pulse.
He swallowed, spurring me on until pleasurable sensation dragged on too long. I hissed, letting my legs fall open.
“Hey, you.” He crawled up my body.
We shared a kiss that tasted like my spunk while he rubbed his cock against my thigh. He was still needy, still hungry for me.
“C’mere.” As his fingers played lightly over my balls, his eyes drifted shut. Fluttered open. From somewhere he produced a condom.
“Can I?” He waited for permission to take me.
Someday I’ll tell him he doesn’t need to ask for what he wants. Someday I’ll tell him I’d be just as happy if he took it without asking. Without even maybe giving me any warning at all.
