But then she shifts, just a little, and presses her hips back into me—into the erection I’ve been trying to ignore all morning. It’s been there since I woke up with her in my arms, and now it’s impossible to pretend it’s not.
She tilts her head slightly, voice soft and teasing.
“But first …”
Her hand reaches back, guiding mine down her stomach, with a deliberately slow pace. She presses my fingers between her thighs, and I feel it—the heat, the slickness, the way her body’s already aching for me.
“I’m so wet for you, Ford,” she whispers. “You can’t leave me like this, can you?”
I press a kiss to the back of her neck, letting my hand move with intention now, fingers sliding through the wetness she’s offered me.
“No,” I murmur against her skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She arches into me as I stroke her gently. I do it slowly, savouring every sound and every shift in her breath. Her hand reaches back again, curling around my thigh.
I move against her, my body fitting perfectly to hers, and the world outside the bedroom fades. No ranch. No chores. Just Stormy, warm and wanting in my arms.
I tease her gently. I don’t rush because I want her to feel every stroke—every slow circle around her clit. She gasps, hips bucking, and I tighten my arm around her waist, keeping her close.
“You feel that?” I ask against her skin. “How soft you are for me? How ready?”
She nods, breath catching as I work her slowly, edging her with every pass of my fingers. I kiss her shoulder, her neck, and the curve of her jaw, tasting the heat rising in her skin.
“You’re shaking,” I whisper. “You need more, baby?”
“Yes,” she begs. “Please …”
I ease her hand toward the drawer beside the bed, guiding her fingers to the handle. She opens it, pulls out a condom, and holds it out to me with a shy smile that makes my chest ache.
I take it from her and tear the foil open. She watches over her shoulder as I roll it on, and then I lift her leg gently, hooking it over my arm to open her up.
“Just like that,” I whisper. “Let me in, sweetheart.”
I guide myself to her entrance, sliding in slowly, inch by inch, until I’m buried deep inside her. She gasps, her body arching, and I hold her close, letting her adjust to the fullness.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She nods, voice breathless, eyes fluttering closed.
“… so full,” she sighs, like it’s not just sensation, but surrender.
“God, Stormy … you feel too good,” I murmur, kissing her neck. “So tight. You were made for this, weren’t you?”
She moans, her fingers gripping the sheets, and I start to move in slow, deliberate thrusts that make her whimper with every stroke. I keep kissing her, whispering against her skin.
“Tell me how it feels,” I say. “Tell me what you need.”
“Harder,” she gasps. “I need you … all of you.”
I grip her hip, thrusting deeper now with more demand. Her nails dig into my arm where it’s clasped around her waist, and I feel her body start to tremble again.
“Keep talking,” she whispers.
I smile against her skin.
“That’s it,” I groan softly. “Take me, Stormy. Take all of me.”
I reach between her legs and find her clit, stroking it in circles as I thrust into her, and I feel her start to unravel. “Such a good girl,” I groan, barely holding myself together. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
