Laughing, he catches my wrist and pulls it to his mouth, kissing my pulse point. His moustache tickles my skin. “Okay. No sympathy. But how about selfish masculine pride that I get to be your first?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s better.”
“I’ll show you better.” He pushes his jeans down and reaches for his shirt.
“Wait.” I stop him from cleaning up his seed. “That might help, um…”
His eyes light up. “Yeah?”
Is using a cowboy’s seed as lube toodirty for a moonlight screw on a blanket? I dunno, but I like the idea of it being inside me, so I’m going with my instinct here.
Gently, I shove his shoulder so he flattens out on the blanket, then I throw a leg over his hips.
He lifts my sundress so he can watch as I stroke him, getting him stiff in my hand before I bring him to my still fluttering, sensitive entrance for the first time.
We’re both messy from our orgasms, and that helps him slide right in. All the way, and he’s big, so it’sallthe way, until I can feel him in my guts and my breathing changes.
“Yeah, that’s my girl. Taking every inch of me, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You look so pretty stuffed full of my cock.” He drags in a rough breath. “Are you going to ride me?”
This is more familiar sex to me. This, I know how to do.
I roll my hips and plant my feet, bracing my hands on his chest. He’s thick enough that he stretches me every which way when I sink down, and long enough that my thighs burn on the press up, climbing every satisfying ridge of his erection.
He feels so good inside me.
And I like the way he stares up at me. Not at the hard jiggle of my tits as I bounce on his cock, but at my face.
His attention feels almost as good as his tongue between my legs, and in a different but similar way, it’s hotter and sexier than I expect. It gets me going, starts that fire burning deep inside. Without breaking his locked gaze, his hands slide up my thighs, to my hips and ass first, adjusting the angleso he can punch deeper into my body, stealing my breath. Then around to the front where his thumb finds my clit without even looking.
His eyes glint in the dark, intense and focused, as he rubs me perfectly, making me shudder.
“Good?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He slows down, his thumb almost lazy now, just a little pressure that makes me want to chase his touch with my hips. I shiver as I squeeze around his cock.
“Better?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Tell me, Hope. Always tell me if I can make it better.” His voice is raspy now, loaded with lust. “You’re so beautiful on top of me. I promise that I know I’m the luckiest man in the world to get this with you.”
I shake my head, not wanting that kind of promise. It’s too much, too sweet.
He bites his lip and nods. His expression tightens, but his gaze stays electric.
As we find a new rhythm, he pulls me down on top of him, until my clit kisses his belly and my nipples are grazing his bare chest on every thrust.
And then he kisses me, his hand tangled in my hair, his mouth slow and sweet as he shows me how lucky he feels. There’s no hiding from that, not tonight, not for me, not under the stars and in his arms.
He’s relentless, and it’s so good. And there’s so much pleasure in his embrace when I lose the fight and give in to the feelings.
This is what it means to be loved. This is making love. I didn’t know it could belike this.
