Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Maverick sits in one of the armchairs, watching with a spaced-out expression. Jesse kneels next to me, palming his cock. “Taste me,” he orders. I lick the end of his dick and then open to take more of him.
Clint groans, the image too arousing for him to maintain control. He releases inside me in a rush of frantic hips and desperate groans, a towering man brought to his knees by my body.
When Clint rolls from me, collapsing onto his back on the rug, Jesse’s there, kissing the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs wide, his attention like a laser on my sex. “He filled you, princess. Do you want me to fill you too?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.”
He rolls me onto my front, bracketing my thighs with his knees, pushing my legs together. Taking a pillow, he shoves it under my hips, angling me in the way he wants. It’s a new position that speaks of domination, and when he grabs my wrists and holds them both at the base of my spine, his power over me only increases.
I moan when he penetrates me, but my sound is overshadowed by Jesse’s long groan.
“You’re so wet,” he says. “Dripping.”
He presses my legs even tighter together, hammering into me with an intensity that I can barely handle. There’s no way I can orgasm like this, but I’m wrung out, and the feeling of being a vessel that Jesse can use to achieve his release is deeply satisfying.
For the first time in my life, being controlled feels good. These men gave me the chance to fly free, but I decided to stay. Now, I can let go and rest in the safety of their care. Jesse comes, gripping the back of my neck, hammering against my ass, groaning like a trapped bear.
“Fuck,” Maverick mutters.
My eyes meet Clint’s across the rug, and he touches my face tenderly. Jesse presses kisses between my shoulder blades, and Maverick, who has dropped to his knees next to us, strokes my hair away from my face.
“Holy shit.” Jesse’s still shifting inside me with languid strokes. I’m boneless and weak but vital and strong. It was me alone who brought all these big, strong men to their knees. Any doubts I ever had about being at the center of their world have been blasted away.
“You’re ours,” Jesse whispers. “Ours forever.”
“Ours,” Clint agrees, shifting so he can kiss me. He meets my gaze with a fierce intensity that makes me want to cry.
“Ours,” Maverick says, linking his fingers with mine and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“I love you,” I tell them all through a throat so tight with emotion that it sounds squeaky. I’m covered with more kisses as each of my cowboys moves closer.
“We love you, too,” Jesse says, kissing the tip of my nose.
“I think this is one of those times when you gotta let us speak for ourselves, man,” Maverick says with a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, Jesse. I might not be the world’s best conversationalist but this woman’s my wife. I’m capable of telling her I love her without your help.” Clint strokes my face. “I love you, baby.”
“Yeah, muffin. I love you. You know that, right?” Trust Maverick to check that I’ve absorbed his words.
“I know,” I say, losing the battle against my joyful tears.
This journey of life sure is a crazy one, but I’m certain of one thing. All the bad times have swept me into the place I was always meant to be. Three rugged cowboys have lassoed my heart and shown me how to let down deep roots that will keep me grounded next to them. And no matter what else life throws at us, we’ll face it together, forever.
EPILOGUE
JESSE
DREAMS COMING TRUE
One year later
“Are you sure this is the place?” I ask Taylor. She squints at her phone, eying the unfamiliar map with a deep furrow between her brows. She glances around, reading all the names above the shop doorways and cafes.
“It’s up here.” She points further up the cobbled Seville street. It’s reserved for pedestrians only, and colorful three-story buildings sprout up on each side, casting the road into shadow. We’re used to the heat, but somehow, being in a city means there’s less breeze and more of a closed feeling wherever we go. “Aren’t these buildings amazing? I mean, just look around.”
I do, finding distinctive architecture wherever I look. The buildings are painted in a mix of pastel colors, and the doorways are framed with Moorish-style tiles. Taylor explained that this part of Spain was once ruled by the people from Morocco, and they left their mark on the style of architecture and decoration. Brightly painted wrought Iron balconies lean over us, crowded with plants that spill between their spindles. Tiny shops containing souvenirs, cakes and pastries, candy, and cured meats and cheeses, are open and inviting. Ahead, a small cafe with metal tables and dainty wooden chairs comes into view.