My gaze shifts from his dick to his face, and I press my lips firmly together in silent defiance.
His eyes are bright, and he’s looking down at me with a contained smirk. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he watches me. "Youcan do as you're told, or I can make you open that mouth for me. Your choice."
Seeing Wes take control, so sure of himself, sends a thrill down my spine. It's intoxicating—the way he moves, the authority in his voice. It has me melting, willing to comply with his demands. I let out a slow, exaggerated breath, holding his stare as I slowly part my lips—just enough to make him wait for it.
“Just like that. Show me what that filthy mouth of yours can do.” He settles himself on my tongue and I lick up his shaft in slow and languid strokes, like a cat lazily dragging its tongue across a paw. He might have made the demands, but with him resting on my tongue, he's atmymercy now.
He groans and I immediately close my lips around him, creating enough suction on his tip that my cheeks hollow out. I suck on him, working him to the back of my throat, slowly. Inch by thick inch.
His hands are still tangled in my hair, and I love the feeling of him guiding me down his cock. Wes taking control is a fucking sight to see. Primitive lust dances behind his gaze, and his attention flicks between where I take him in my mouth and looking me in the eyes.
I reach up and roll him in the palm of my hand. He hisses a breath between his front teeth, exhaling a muted "fuck"as my tongue presses against the underside of his cock.
He thrusts into my mouth roughly, tightening his grip on my hair. My eyes tear up as he hits the back of my throat and I gag, but when he tries to pull away, I dig my nails into the muscles at the backs of his thighs. I take him as far as I can, and he can’t help but pump into me when I swallow around him.
His pace picks up, and he slams into my mouth like he’s happy to shut me up, and truth be told, I like it. It’s real and raw and filthy.
My knees are scraping against the concrete of the dirty stable floor, and I don’t give a fuck when Wes is in control like this because seeing this self-controlled city boy go full on feral and fuck my face in the stable like a true cowboy is damn near everything.
His pace falters, and a moment later he’s pulsing on my tongue. His hot cum cascades down my throat, and I swallow him, my thumbs massaging his thighs as he shivers slightly.
His eyes are hazy as he smiles down at me, his rough fingertips scraping over my jaw. “God damn. That mouth might be my favorite thing.”
I smirk through the pain in my knees. “Good. Then you won’t mind when I use it to tell you off some more.”
He chuckles. “Save it for after we eat dinner, would ya? I’m starving.” He helps me up from the hard floor and I suppress a groan from the ache that radiates through my joints.
I must wince at the pain because he looks at my slightly scraped knees and grimaces. “Maybe I should have brought you inside to do that.”
I shake my head at him. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“Your knees wouldn’t be scraped to hell for one.”
I laugh. “Come on, cowboy. Let’s go eat.”
He snags the bags of food from the bench he set them on, and I grab the bottles of root beer before leading him back to the house in the cold drizzle.
1. You can find the recipe for Mrs. Mackey's Pumpkin Bars in the back matter of the book. #chapter=x44QwaHc3hsQlfKO
Picnics, Pumpkin Bars, and Pussy
Wes
My body is still humming from the way she swallowed me down without blinking an eye. When her eyes flared in hunger as I pushed her to her knees, I knew she would match my energy and levy a challenge right back.
I adore that about her.
That T-shirt she’s wearing is adept. This woman can’t be tamed, and fuck anyone who would dare try.
She opens the bottles of root beer I’d brought while I spread out the plaid blanket I’d grabbed out of Pops’ closet onto the living room floor.
She glances back at me. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Making us a picnic.” I plop down on the blanket in the middle of the floor and gesture for her to come sit.
She sidles into the living room, a soft smile on her face. “Are you trying to butter me up so I don’t yell at you some more?”
“Is it working?”
