Page 12 of Hayrides with Hank

My eyes fluttered open. Watching him above me—his face etched with concentration and passion, the corded muscles in his neck straining, the sweat beading on his chest—was the most potent aphrodisiac. I felt the coil of another orgasm already tightening deep within me.

“Touch yourself,” he forced out, his pace increasing, each deep stroke hitting a spot that made me see stars. “Come with me. I want to feel you come around me.”

My hand slid down my slick stomach, my fingers finding the swollen, aching bud. I circled it in time with his thrusts, my moans becoming louder, less controlled.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his own control fraying. “Let me hear you. But be quiet…be so quiet for me…”

“I can’t,” I whimpered, my hips meeting his thrust for thrust. “Hank, you feel too good. You fill me up…”

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded, his rhythm becoming punishing, perfect.

“You!” I gasped, my eyes rolling back. “Only you. Always you.”

“Come for me, Maddie. Now.”

His command was my undoing. Heat exploded—a silent, screaming wave of pleasure that clenched around him, milking him, pulling his own release from him. He buried his face in my neck to smother his own guttural roar, his body shuddering as he spilled into me, his hips jerking through the last powerful pulses.

For long moments, the only sounds were our heaving breaths and the faint, happy music from the nearby fall festival. He collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms, our skin slick and cooling.

He nuzzled my hair, pressing a kiss to my temple. “We’re definitely going to get caught one of these years.”

I laughed, a soft, sated sound, and curled into his side. “Let them try,” I murmured, tracing the familiar lines of his chest. “We’ve been working this fair for ten years. I think we can outsmart them.”

He held me tighter, the steady thump of his heart under my ear the truest sound I knew. “Yeah,” he sighed, contentment smoothing the edge from his voice. “We definitely can.”

Outside, the sounds of the festival continued—children’s laughter, the distant call of vendors, the creak of carnival rides.Our festival. Our community. Our life we’d built together, one season at a time.