Page 31 of Love Harvested on Thanksgiving
“Yup,” I say, “loads of them. It’s been a while, but I’ve got enough experience.”
He nods, “good.”
He reaches out, helping me onto Ginny. Once I’m settled, he swings up onto the blue roan with ease. He rubs the neck of his horse, “This is Mary,” he says.
“Nice to meet you, Mary,” I say.
The hillside stretches out around us, fields of gold and brown stretching as far as I can see. The trees are shades of redand brown, leaves crunch under our horses’ hooves as we ride along the dirt path.
We talk about everything—my favorite books, my friends, my family. I can’t believe he actually cares to listen, really listen. It’s… refreshing. Almost unbelievable, the way he seems genuinely interested in the things I care about.
After a while, we stop on top of a hill. The horses nicker softly as we dismount, and Finley pulls a rolled blanket from his saddle. He spreads it out on the grass, patting it like it’s an invitation.
We sit down, shoulders almost touching, and I watch the sun drift lower in the sky. The light spills across the fields like molten gold.
I turn to him, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “The view is beautiful, Finley, thank you for today. I really needed a day like this.”
He looks at me, “the view is stunning, princess.”
I blush.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the horizon. Then, he finally speaks. “Brown,” his voice low and certain.
I laugh. “Like dirt?”
He finally looks at me, one corner of his mouth lifting. “No. Like nature. Like life. Like the golden rays of sun on Thanksgiving morning.”
My cheeks warm instantly, and I look down, smiling.
He studies me for a second, then asks, “what about you?”
“Blue,” I say softly.
His hand inches closer to mine until our fingers touch. My breath stills and I turn toward him. For a long moment, neither of us say a word—we just study each other.
Then, before I realize I’ve moved, I’m in his lap, his arms wrapped around me. And he kisses me. It’s deep, it’s warm and full of passion.
His hand strokes my back as I run my hands through his thick beard.
A large, calloused hand trails up my spine, past the back of my neck and fists my hair, tilting my head back, exposing my throat.
His lips move from my mouth down to my neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as a breathy moan escapes me.
I slide off him, removing my pants with urgency as he does the same. The chill nips at my bare ass cheeks until he’s there, lifting me, his warmth replacing the cold as I wrap my legs around him.
He walks us to the large oak tree, gently setting my back against its rough bark. His mouth crashes against mine, lips moving with urgency.
His hand is firm at my neck the other anchoring me to him—strong and possessive.
When his teeth catch my bottom lip, a gasp escapes me. He looks down at his thick engorged cock pressed against me. “Put it in,” he says, voice rough.
My hand moves between us, gripping the base of him as I guide it inside of me. I moan as he fills the space of my hole, the pain easing as he stretches me.
“Can we ever just fuck in a bed?” He asks.
I laugh, “Where’s the fun in that?” Then, my fingers twist in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. I close my eyes and let out a slow breath, savoring every inch of him as he sinks deeper with every thrust.
