Page 87 of 11 Cowboys

Conway leans in and kisses my shoulder, lips soft against my skin. “We won’t. Not until you forget the world exists outside the walls of this room.”

He doesn’t realize that’s already happening. Bit by bit, everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought was important, is slipping away. The world outside of the fences that encircle this home seems like an illusion, a dream I’m forgetting hour by hour.

I arch into Corbin’s mouth as he presses two thick fingers inside me and curls them perfectly. I stare into Conway’s eyes as he watches me writhe, cataloging everything so he can ruin me again when it’s his turn. He caresses me with soft touches like a brush over canvas, marking the edges of my form until I fall into pleasure so deep, I drown, gasping and curling, trapping Corbin’s fingers deep inside me as my thighs clamp together.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing my knee. Corbin shifts upward, his chest pressing to mine, his mouth brushing my ear. “You okay?”

I stroke his cheek with the back of my fingers. “Yeah. More than okay.”

Conway threads his fingers with mine as Corbin presses a kiss to my collarbone, then my sternum, then lower still.

Somewhere in the press of skin on skin, the weight of their gaze, and in the way their hands never stop learning me, I stop thinking about what comes next.

I just feel.

And I fall a little deeper.

31

CORBIN

I kiss her, stroking my tongue deep as I slide my cock through her wetness and over her swollen clit. She’s everything right now: her taste in my mouth, her scent fogging my senses, the feel of her beneath me, and the promise of her heat.

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be this version of me; a man on the brink of losing control.

Nothing else matters, only Grace’s hips undulating against mine, craving to be filled, and my building arousal. I close my eyes, wanting to shut out the world and bury myself inside her, where everything is sweet and good. When the head of my dick slips inside an inch, I feel it everywhere.

She pants, “Yes, oh fuck” as I put my full weight behind my cock and force my way inside, too lost to ask her if she wants this and if it’s okay. Her body parts around mine, accepting me, cradling me, holding me like I could float away at any second.

I forgot about the magic of sex. The strength of the totaland complete bonding a person can feel with another when all the emotions are right. I don’t move. I can’t. The way her body opens around me, heat drawing me deeper, is enough to short-circuit all thought. My arms tighten around her without realizing it, as if holding her too loosely might let the moment escape.

Grace arches under me, her fingers gripping my shoulders like she’s anchoring herself, and her eyes—half-lidded, glazed with need—meet mine.

There’s no pretense anymore.

No gentle flirting. No presenting the right version of myself for her article or sanitizing the truth of what we’re looking for in this house.

We’re real and raw without walls.

I roll my hips, slow but insistent, grinding into her until her breath stutters, her lips parting in a silent gasp. I can feel her everywhere. Her thighs tightening around me, her nails scraping down my back, and her slick heat pulling me closer with every heartbeat.

I lower my forehead to hers, trying to stay tethered when everything inside me is breaking loose. “You feel… fuck, you feel so perfect.”

She moans, soft and broken, the sound catching in her throat like she didn’t mean for it to escape. “Don’t stop.”

I wouldn’t, even if the world was ending.

I thrust again, deeper this time, watching her expression falter, her eyes fluttering shut. Each movement wrings a new sound from her, small, breathy whimpers that do violent, beautiful things to me.

There’s a rhythm building now as our bodies find a language of their own.

“Corbin… oh…”

My name falls from her lips like a prayer. My grip on her hip tightens as I sink my teeth into her shoulder, desperate to consume her. Needing to mark this moment and remember what it’s like to be inside someone who meets me in every way.

Emotionally. Physically. Completely.

Grace’s legs wrap around me tighter, pulling me in as if she doesn’t want even an inch between us. Her hands roam my back, my hair, my face, like she’s trying to memorize me, every inch, every movement.