Page 167 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Take every inch for me.”

The sound of his voice shreds me, makes me grind down harder on Duke’s cock, hungry for the violence of it, the way I’m nothing but an object of worship and appetite in their hands.

Duke pistons up into me, sweat breaking out everywhere, and I lose track of time or sense or even my own name.

Cody leans in, his mouth at my ear. “You look unreal.”

I feel his hand slide between my thighs, thumb drawing tight circles at the root of my clit where Duke keeps splitting me open.

“Let go,” Cody tells me. “Come again. We’ll catch you.”

And the total confidence in his voice, the way he and Silas and Duke have me bracketed and helpless and cherished, breaks the last of my will.

I shatter, full body, legs locking around Duke’s hips and arms around his neck as I explode, heat rolling up from the base of my spine in a whiteout, deafening wave.

I can barely breathe; I claw at Silas’s shirt, at his skin, at anything to ground myself because I’m floating several feet above the table, disconnected from time. I hear myself screaming, hoarse and wild.

Cody strokes my clit through it, overwhelming even as I try to squirm away, drawing out every last shudder.

Duke bites my shoulder and groans, the sound turning into a broken gasp as he slams up, cock pulsing, filling me with a flood of heat that leaks out, running down the backs of my thighs.

He’s shaking, a whole body shudder that makes me want to laugh and cry and collapse all at once.

I don’t stop convulsing for what feels like minutes. Small aftershocks ripple through my body every time one of their hands lands on my skin, every time Cody leans in to kiss me, or Silas trails his hand down the knots of my spine.

My entire body is vibrating and loose, like every bone has been replaced by flexi straws and all I am is skin and heat and need.

Somewhere in there, Duke lowers us gently down so I’m not perched on the wobbling edge of the table anymore, and settles back on the tile, cradling my hips in his lap, cock still twitching inside me as he rocks me through the aftershocks.

Holy shit. I can’t believe that just happened.

I also can’t believe how badly I wanted it.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Duke

The problem with letting loose and going wild after a rodeo is that eventually morning still arrives like an unforgiving tax audit.

I stand in the kitchen at 6:30 making breakfast with the kind of aggressive focus usually reserved for hostage negotiations because if I stop moving for too long, my brain starts replaying last night in dangerous high definition.

Annie against the truck.

Cody looking one bad decision away from climbing out of his own skin.

Silas kissing her, his restraint gone.

The sound she made when all three of us touched her.

Nope.

Not thinking about that before coffee.

I crack another egg into the pan and try to push all the thoughts out of my mind.

The kitchen smells of bacon, cinnamon, coffee, and the faint smoke scent that permanently lives in Ironwood no matter how often we clean. Sunlight pushes through the windows in pale gold strips, catching dust motes around me.

Normal morning.