I gasp. My hands tighten on the rail.
“Beau, we can’t… that was…”
His hand slides around my waist. Firm. Possessive. I feel every finger pressing into my stomach through my shirt. His thumb stroking a slow circle on my hipbone. His palm is hot. Huge. Spanning half my waist.
“Shhh.” His lips brush my ear again. “Just watch.”
So I watch. The bull mounts the cow. Powerful, instinctive, primal. And behind me, Beau’s hand drifts lower. His calloused fingers trace the waistband of my jeans. Slowly. One finger sliding just under the denim, dragging across my skin. Giving me time to stop him.
I don’t.
He pops the button. The sound is obscenely loud in the quiet pen. He slides the zipper down…slow, deliberate, tooth by tooth…and his hand slips inside. Past the waistband of my panties. Down. His thick, rough fingers part me, and he lets out a low groan against my neck. I feel the vibration against my skin. Feel his chest expand behind me with a sharp inhale. Like touching me undid something in him.
“Soaked,” he murmurs. “Already. Just from my voice?”
I bite my lip so hard it stings. He doesn’t wait for an answer. He strokes me slow. Two thick fingers sliding through the slick heat, parting me, spreading me. Then deeper. Pressing inside with a confidence that makes my knees buckle. I feel his knuckles, the rough texture of his skin, the sheer thickness of his fingers stretching me.
“Feel that?” he whispers, curling his fingers against my front wall. I choke on a moan. “Tight little pussy like this? Gotta get you ready for me.”
Oh God. Oh God. I’m gripping the fence with both hands, my head dropping forward, my breathing ragged. The metal bites into my palms. He pumps his fingers slow and deep. Then adds a third. Stretching me. Filling me. I feel every thick knuckle push inside.
“When I fuck you,” he says against the side of my neck, his stubble scraping my skin, his full lips dragging hot over my pulse point, “it won’t be gentle.”
My pussy clenches hard around his fingers.
“I want you sore. Leaking. Split open on me.”
I shatter. My body seizes, my mouth falls open in a silent scream, and I come so hard around his hand that my legs nearly give out. He catches me. One arm banded around my waist, his massive body bracing mine, his fingers still buried inside me as I pulse and clench and fall apart against his chest.
He holds me through every wave. Patient. Steady. His lips pressing soft against my temple. His breath, warm in my hair. When the last tremor fades and I’m trembling, boneless, he pulls his hand free. Gently. I feel the slow drag of his fingers leaving me and whimper at the emptiness.
Then he turns me around. And I see his face.
His golden eyes are dark. Blown wide. His jaw is clenched so hard, the muscle ticks. His full lips are parted, his chest heaving.There’s a flush crawling up his neck. And behind his zipper…which I can now see because I’m facing him…he’s rock hard. Straining against the denim. Huge and thick and impossible to ignore.
He’s wrecked. This big, quiet, sure man is barely holding it together. And knowing I did that to him, knowing my coming on his hand made him look like this, does something to me that’s deeper than any orgasm.
He kisses me. Long. Deep. Thorough. His rough hands cradling my face like I’m something precious while his tongue claims my mouth like I’m something owned. It’s both things at once. Tender and savage. Like he wants to ruin me softly.
When he finally pulls back, I’m panting. Dazed. Standing in a bullpen on a man’s family ranch with my jeans undone and my brain in another zip code.
What the hell is happening to my life?
He tucks a braid behind my ear. His calloused fingertip traces the curve of my earlobe, my jaw, my chin. Then he zips my jeans back up with careful hands. Buttons them. Presses a kiss to my temple.
“Stay,” he says quietly. “Just for a minute.”
I don’t move. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. He wraps an arm around me from behind, his chin resting on the top of my head. I feel his heartbeat against my back…hard, fast, not as steady as he looks. His arms are warm and heavy around me. His chest rises and falls against my spine.
We just stand there. Breathing. The dust settling. The bull and cow calm now, standing side by side like nothing happened.
Must be nice to not overthink everything.
Eventually, I find my voice. “We should get back.”
He nods into the crook of my neck. His stubble grazes my skin. One more beat. One more kiss pressed to my shoulder, hisfull lips soft against the bare skin where my shirt has shifted. Then he lets go.
We walk back to the main barn in silence, but he keeps his hand spread across the small of my back. His palm, wide and hot through the fabric of my shirt. His fingers curving around my side, his thumb stroking a slow rhythm against my spine. I feel every callus. Every ridge. My body moving in sync with his, his scent still wrapped around me. I’m completely surrounded by him. Inside and out.
