Page 236 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

Cody’s cock stabs. The pressure behind gets so intense I cry out.

Silas rams it deep and I gag, spit streaming off my chin, eyes watering and sight wobbly bright. Duke’s rhythm changes, short and savage, and the desk beneath me shrieks on the hardwood.

The friction, the heat, the overload, it’s not pain, not exactly, but the part of pleasure that my brain recoils from because it’s too bright, too much.

My body shudders. I come again, shocking hard, and my scream is muffled by Silas grinding his cock into my mouth.

Silas pushes even deeper, cock spasming against my tongue, his whole body vibrating with the force of it, and I want to swallow him so badly I try to drag him down my throat.

He lets out a fractured growl, encouraging, so I hollow my mouth, taking him to the root, eyes streaming because there’s not enough air left in the room for four people breathing this hard.

Duke’s grip on my hips goes vise tight. My back arches and Cody’s cock shoves from behind, stretching me around him until the only thing I can think is how I’m going to split in two for these men. Maybe I want to.

“Fuck, she’s so tight,” Cody pants, and the words are a whip crack straight to my core.

I’m a conduit for need, a wave breaking open at the shore, and I can’t stop trembling. My legs quake, sweat crawling down my sides, and I can’t tell where anyone ends and I begin.

Duke howls something that might be my name or might just be the sound of a man losing his entire sense of self.

His cock pulses inside me, warmth flooding, and he slumps forward, forehead pressed to my collarbone, murmuring “good girl” against my skin. Every molecule of me flares in answer.

Cody’s pace goes jagged, desperate, and then he bites down on my shoulder, hard enough to warn and mark and claim all at once.

He follows Duke with a shuddering groan, cock jerking in slow waves that make me milk him like I was born for it.

My whole body clenches, and I’m not sure which of us is the one keening in relief.

Silas slams his cock down my throat one last time and comes in violent, choking bursts that make my eyes water and my heart nearly stop.

His hand tightens hard in my hair, holding me into each desperate pump until he’s empty and I’m shaking, noisy and raw.

They slide away one by one, gentle hands smoothing over my shaking body, and I collapse on the desk, drool and tears slicking my cheek, the taste of all three of them mapped on my tongue like a secret only I’m allowed to know.

A secret I never want to lose the rights to.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Duke

Turns out public humiliation is an incredibly effective business strategy.

Who knew.

Three days after Vivian’s little supervillain monologue in the study, the town meeting at Colter Creek Municipal Hall hits standing room capacity before sunset.

I mean, sure, Ironwood nearly got eaten alive by internal corruption, organized financial sabotage, and family betrayal wrapped in cashmere, but people could at least pretend they’re here out of civic concern instead of small town bloodlust.

They are absolutely not pretending.

The room buzzes loud with whispers and wet coats and coffee Thermoses while ranchers crowd shoulder to shoulder beneath fluorescent lights that make everybody look vaguely haunted.

Sheriff Miller stands near the back wall with two deputies.

Smart man.

Because if tonight goes badly, there’s at least a forty percent chance somebody throws a folding chair.

Beside me, Cody adjusts the cuffs of his dark button down for approximately the nine thousandth time. Stress habit. Annie calls it his “emotionally repressed Batman routine.”