Page 40 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
“Good boys make their women come.”
I felt his tongue on the shell of my ear then. “You’re shaking, baby. Your good boy’s cock too much? Hmm?”
I couldn’t form words. All I could give him was a moan.
He chuckled then, huffing in my ear. “Good boys fill their fuck toy’s little pussy, don’t they, baby?”
I nodded, arching.
“Filthy woman,” he whispered. “Torturing me on Christmas.”
“M-make me come,” I begged. “Please.”
His hand dropped to my ass, grabbing a handful. “Not done fuckin’ you.”
“Beau!”
“Beg for it,” he shot back, smacking my ass.
“Please, please make me come, Beau.”
“What are you?”
“Your dirty little fuck toy,” I rasped, eyes rolling back as my core began to tighten around him.
He shoved his hand between us, hips still snapping, and found my clit. He pinched it as his other hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me back so he could see my face. “Come,” he commanded, his eyes shining with lust.
I fell into the abyss, my body bucking in his hold as I did as he commanded.
“There you go,” he praised roughly, his thrusts becomingerratic. “There’s my wildflower.”
No matter how many times the roles reverse between us, I would always be his wildflower.
And he would always be my Beau.
“I love you,” I breathed.
He muttered a harsh curse as his cock swelled inside me, filling me.
And by the time we both came down, we were too exhausted to move.
We’d unwrap each other when the sun came up.
Chapter Eleven
Harmony
The sun was rising. Even though I couldn’t see it, my body knew. I could never sleep during the day anymore, unlike my husband, who could sleep anytime, anywhere. Right on cue, as if he sensed my alertness, his rough morning voice filled my ears, heavy with sleep.
“Darlin’? Are you okay?”
I hummed and moved to roll over to face him. The arm draped over my waist lifted only to drop and tighten when my view was nothing but his bare chest. He pulled me close, groaning. “Too early for this shit, beautiful.”
I smiled, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. “It’s Christmas, Mase,” I whispered.
He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply as his arm tightened around me. “Ho, ho, ho,” he grumbled.
I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, soaking up the heat of his body for a few more minutes before we both had to brace thecold. My mind was racing, knowing that next Christmas was going to look completely different. This was the last Christmas we would have together, just the two of us. Husband and wife. Next year it would be Daddy and Mommy. After Mason had taken care of Moonie—yes, after years of therapy, I was able to say his name (out loud and in my head) and Valerie’s mom passed away, we needed some time before thinking about the next step. When I first told Mason about Sammy, the baby I’d lost when I was still under Moonie’s harsh grasp, my bull rider claimed Sammy as his own. He loved her. Even though she wasn’t with us, he loved her fiercely. Seeing that, hearing him say that Sammy was his daughter, I wanted to try again—with him. It would’ve been different, peaceful.
