Page 22 of Stalked By the Farmer

"Is that so?" He nuzzles my neck, and I moan. "Seems we did alright to me."

His hands slide down to cup my ass as he grinds into me. I can feel how hard he is through both our jeans. My breath hitches.

"Conner," I gasp. "The hay—"

"Can wait," he growls. He lifts me up and sets me on the edge of the flatbed, stepping between my legs.

"We should get this loaded before dark." But even as I say it, I'm fumbling with his belt buckle.

Conner bats my hands away and unzips his fly, freeing himself. "I've been hard as a rock all day watching you in those little shorts. Now, we're finishing this."

He lifts my skirt and thrusts into me without warning. I cry out, clutching his shoulders.

"Conner!"

He pulls my head back by my hair and breathes against my neck. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," I moan.

"Damn right you are."

He starts to move, hard and fast, and I throw my head back, closing my eyes. The pleasure and pain mix until I can't tell the difference. All I know is Conner, and the delicious way he's pounding into me.

When he comes with a roar, it sends me tumbling over the edge. I clench around him, stars bursting behind my eyelids.

We stay there for a long moment, panting against each other, his face buried in my neck. Finally I laugh, breathless.

"Well. I guess the hay can wait after all."

Conner chuckles and lifts his head to kiss me slow and deep.

"Told you we had a good harvest, darlin'."

* * *

The next morning, Conner and I stand on the porch with mugs of coffee, watching our kids chase each other around the yard.

"Look at them," I say with a smile. "So much energy."

Conner wraps an arm around my waist and kisses the top of my head. "Just like their ma and pa."

I laugh and lean into him. After ten years of marriage, he still makes me feel like a giddy teenager.

Our twin boys, Caleb and Luke, are chasing our dog Buddy, their blonde heads bobbing. At six years old, they're little balls of endless motion.

Our daughter Sophia is sitting under the big oak tree, her nose in a book as usual. At eight years old, she's already devoured more books than I have in my entire life.

"Think the boys will settle down enough to help with chores today?" Conner asks wryly.

"If we bribe them with extra story time tonight," I say.

Conner smiles down at me. "You're too soft on them."

"And you're not soft enough," I tease back.

"Reckon that's why we make a good team." He kisses me again, slow and sweet, and I melt into him.

After all these years, my heart still skips a beat at his touch. I never dreamed I'd find a love like this, a man who is my partner in every sense of the word.

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