Page 25 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“Please,” I gasped. “Please.”

He trailed his lips up my neck, teeth grazing as he groaned low. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you . . . inside me.”

A low, wicked laugh rumbled from him, making me shudder. “Not enough. Use those pretty words, baby.”

I groaned, the pressure inside me building unbearably as his hips moved against mine with effortless precision. Each roll was rhythmic, nothing like the lifeless plank I was used to having sex with. This was art, his body moving like it was made for mine. My body burned, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Fuck me, Beaudreau. Please. Stretch me wide.”

His hand gripped the sensitive skin at my neck and his teeth nipped at it. The sting melted into the heat radiating off me, every inch of my body feverish and alive under him. I cried out as his touch consumed me.

“As you wish.”

His hands left me long enough for him to shove his briefs down and grab a condom from his jeans pocket. He crawled back over my body and settled his legs between mine. His cock was free and pressing against me. I could feel every inch of him, and my breath hitched as he rolled the condom down onto his shaft.

Fuck.

This was my undoing . . . or maybe, my rebirth.

“Buckle up, Cowgirl.”

In one swift motion, he thrust into me, and I cried out as my body stretched around him. He was massive, nothing like what I’d known before. This was the difference between a pencil and a damn jumbo marker. The feeling completely overwhelmed me.

My legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, holding him tighter as he adjusted us, scooting me toward the center of the bed. One arm cradled my back, keeping my chest pressed flush against his, while his free hand traced the edge of my face. The tender touch was a sharp contrast to the raw intensity of what he’d done, and I clung to him, breathless, as my body adjusted to the thick, pulsing heat of him inside me.

He didn’t waste time, pulling out enough to tease before slamming back into me.

“Fuck, you’re so thick,” I gasped as the bed creaked beneath us. His rhythm was perfect, each thrust sending waves of heat straight through me.

“That’s it, Cowgirl,” he growled, gripping my hips tighter. “Take it all. Stretch that tight little pussy around me.”

The steady power behind his thrusts left me shaking, the motion so smooth and controlled. “You’re so good at this.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, baby, I know. That’s why all those buckle bunnies wanna fuck a bull rider. We know how to ride.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I froze.

What the hell is a buckle bunny?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter—I wasn’t just someone looking to hook up with him for bragging rights or some imaginary conquest.

My chest tightened, and I blurted, “I’m not doing this because you’re a notch on some bedpost.”

He stilled, his thrusts pausing as his hand moved to my face, cradling my cheek in a way so reverent it almost made me melt. “I’m sorry if I implied that, baby. You’re not just anyone. You’re my salvation.”

My breath caught, my mind reeling. I blinked up at him, trying to process what he’d said. Salvation? He couldn’t mean that. He wanted to fuck, to have this moment, and yet his words lingered.

But before I could even sort through the thought, he moved again, slamming back into me, and my mind shattered with the sensation.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his voice rough, teasing, as his cock stretched me with every thrust. “Getting wrecked by me, letting me use this sweet little body. You’re nothing but my perfect little Cowgirl, aren’t you?”

Gripping my hips tighter, he pulled me against him as his rhythm quickened and his cock pushed deeper.

“Get on top,” he rasped suddenly, pulling back and lifting me.

I blinked, but obeyed, awkwardly straddling him. My knees pressed into the bed on either side of him as his cock teased against my entrance. I froze, unsure of what to do next, heat rising in my face. I’d never done this before—never been on top. This was completely uncharted territory.