Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“You smell like a man. Like a cowboy.” I tipped my head back and winked at him. “And cowboys happen to turn me on.”
He groaned, and against my stomach, I felt his cock start to swell through his jeans. “Did you come up here to torture me?”
“Maybe.” I moved one hand to his crotch and rubbed the thickening bulge, my insides igniting.
“What did I tell you about teasing me that way?” he growled, backing me toward the bales of hay lining one side of the loft.
“I forget,” I said breathlessly, moving my hand up and down over thick denim. “Maybe you should remind me.”
“Maybe I should do more than that.” He gave me a gentle shove, and I toppled backward onto a pile of scratchy golden hay. Thunder boomed again. The shadows in the loft grew deeper. “Don’t move,” he said.
I stayed where I was, panting and anxious, while he looked around. Then he walked over to the opposite wall and grabbed a length of rope hanging on a nail. As he sauntered toward me again, he wound it through his big, strong hands.
“What’s that for?” I asked, my voice a little shaky, more from excitement than fear. My heart raced as I looked up at him.
“That’s to make sure you don’t torture me while I have my way with you.” Dropping to his knees, he worked fast, not only tying my crossed wrists together but securing them to a post just behind my head.
“What are you going to do to me?” I tugged against the restraints, but they were knotted tight.
He looked amused. “Told you I was good with a rope.” He pushed my dress up to my waist and yanked my panties down. Then he tossed both legs over his shoulders and lowered his head between my thighs.
“Beckett!” I cried out as his tongue swept up my center. Rain began to drum against the roof. “We don’t have time!”
“You’re not the boss here.” He drew circles around my clit, making my entire body tingle. “I am.”
I moaned, relieved that for once I could be loud while he did this to me—he was so fucking good at it. “But what about—”
“They’re fine.”
“But it’s raining—”
“So they won’t leave the house.”
“But I said I would—”
“Woman, do I need to tie up your jaw too?” Reaching beneath me, he pinched my ass—hard—before stroking me again with his tongue. “Now be quiet so I can make you come with my tongue before I do it with my cock.”
“How am I—supposed to be quiet—during any of that?” I gasped for breath as he set my whole body on fire, every muscle in my body pulling tight. “You make me want to scream.”
“Then scream,” he said calmly. “I’ll enjoy it.”
In less than two minutes, the rain was pounding against the barn roof and I was crying out at the top of my lungs, yanking at the ropes around my wrists, bucking up beneath him, my legs locked tight around his head, his fingers digging into my thighs.
The moment the tremors subsided, he took off his belt, whipped off his shirt, and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down around his hips. Then he stroked his towering cock while I watched with wide, greedy eyes. “This is exactly what you wanted. Admit it. This is why you came up here in that dress you know I like. You did it on purpose.”
“Yes,” I said, desperate for him, pulling against the ropes even though I knew I couldn’t escape and my wrists were rubbed raw. His eyes raked over my body—dress hitched to my waist, breasts straining against the bodice, bare thighs open to him. He was so gorgeous and sexy, his chest massive and slick with sweat, the muscles in his arms bulging, his cock big and hard, I writhed on the hay in front of him, unashamed to let him see how much I wanted him. Unafraid to say the words. “Beckett, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
“You have no idea what you do to me.” His voice was raspy with desire, his blue eyes dark as storm clouds. “What you’ve always done to me.”
“Show me,” I pleaded. “Let me feel. You can punish me for it—you can tie me down, scold me, bruise me. But let me feel the way you want me. Let me feel like I’m yours.”
With a deep groan rumbling in the back of his throat, he pushed inside me and began to move. Unlike the past two nights in his bed, it wasn’t sweet or gentle—it was rough and sweaty and dirty. He fucked me like I asked him to, like he wanted to punish me. Like he wanted to leave marks on my body. Like he wasn’t sure whether he’d hated me or loved me all these years.