“Please.” Tally’s skin is shiny, coated in sweat.
“You’re so pretty like this, weeping for me to let this cunt explode. Does it ache, baby?”
“Yes.” She begins pulsing her cunt, like little Kegel exercises that try to keep me inside with every thrust.
“Fuck.” My vision goes black as she steals the blood from me and my balls tingle with this foreign need. I lose control and suck air through my nose. “Fuck!” This time it’s a shout, and I pull my dick back just slightly and lift my fingers off her clit.
“I’m going to spank you,” I warn her, my hand hovering right above her pussy. “Then I want you to soak me, Tally darlin’.”
Tally’s eyes are golden pools of trust, but I can taste her nervous excitement as she sucks in a breath and then nods.
I hit her clit—hard—and Tally’s head falls back as she convulses around me. Then I roll my fingers over it before doing it again and again, rapid little smacks and then soothing circles, as I speed up my thrusts. My legs grow weak as my orgasm draws near, but I give myself no break, knowing she’s close and needs the steady cadence.
“Holy fuck, Walker,” she cries as she completely comes apart on my cock. I draw her close as she spasms and swallow her moans, right as I lose the battle and paint her insides, forever marking her as mine.
CHAPTER 30
Tally
“So tell me why you really stayed away from the farm all these years.” Walker strums his fingers through my hair, almost putting me to sleep with his touch. We’re lying in a brand-new bed in one of two bedrooms in the cottage. This is one of the bigger cottages that I’ve always loved. Probably because it’s in the wildflower field. After round one—or maybe it was round one and a half?—of sex, he carried me in here, telling me he needed more room to play. I wasn’t complaining when I had my third orgasm of the night with my head buried in a pillow as he took me from behind. Now we’re both still naked, the sheets tangled around our waists as I relax my head on his chest.
Still, I really don’t want to answer his question. My fingers curl around the smattering of hair on his chest, and I absently pulse my grip as we talk. It’s a mindless movement, but it eases some of the tension from this topic. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
Walker’s fingers dig into my hair, and he tugs so I’m looking at him. “Please. I want to know.”
Warmth rolls through me at his interest. “That’s sweet, Walker, but—”
“No buts.” His grip tightens. “Let me in, woman.”
“That’s what he said,” I respond with a giggle.
Walker rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious.”
“Damn. For a man who doesn’t like talking, you are saying an awful lot of words.”
“I like talking to you.” He says it almost defensively. And though it’s a soft admission, it comes out a bit harsh. Like he’s mad that he feels this way and even more mad that I haven’t realized. I have, but sarcasm is my defense mechanism. If I keep people right on the outskirts of touching the real me, there’s less chance I’ll get hurt when this temporary fling comes to an end. Because it always does. I’ll leave, and he’ll forget about me. Because I’m just the temporary girl. The one who comes in and fixes things for a bit, not enough to be the one to keep.
Even so, with the way he’s looking at me, I find myself spilling the truth. “I never went to college. I’m sure you’ve noticed that this farm doesn’t make a ton of money.”
Walker’s brows furrow.
“Don’t get me wrong, my parents would have mortgaged the land or sold off part of it if it meant I could go to school. I couldn’t let them do that. And Penny was the bookworm. She was good at all that stuff, so I just figured their investment was better funding her.” I sigh as his grip loosens on my hair and he goes back to running his fingers through it. My gaze falls to the window in the corner of the room; there are no curtains up yet so the lightning storm outside continues to brighten the space. “I figured that if I traveled to different resorts as a seasonal worker, I could save up money and eventually be able to afford culinary school without being a burden to my family. I’ve enjoyed it, too, don’t get me wrong; I’ve really enjoyed it. I’ve gotten to work for some incredible chefs, and the one in Nantucket this summer, she’s one of the bestpastry chefs in the country. Restaurants hire her to fix their menus. To train their staff. And she asked me to help.” I bite my lip. “So that’s my story. I wasn’t running, and I don’t hate being here. I just have a plan that I need to see through before I can think about coming back.” I tilt my head to look up at him again. “And I’ve already been accepted into the New England Culinary Institute in the fall.”
“Tally, that’s incredible.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “You’reincredible.”
“Well, I can only go if I make enough this summer to get me through culinary school without working. They offer the entire program online, but I want to do it in person.” I bite my lip. “I just want to experience it, ya know?”
He brushes his lips against mine. “You will.” I’m swept up in the kiss as he breathes me in, as my nerves ping-pong around in relief from finally having told someone everything.
Sure, Penny knows bits and pieces, but even she believes I left here because I wanted to. I never wanted my sister to feel bad that she went after her dreams. I did, too. It’s just taken me on a different path and a bit longer than others my age.
“So tell me about your idea to sell baked goods at the festival and farmers market.”
I shake my head. “It was a silly idea. There’s no time. I’m supposed to be helping you prepare the cottages and everything else around the farm. Besides, I don’t have anywhere to bake.”
Walker’s fingers dig into my hair and he tugs me so I’m looking at him again. “You’ll use the kitchen in the big house. We’ll make it work.”
“We?”
