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My eyes dip from the lush pool of her sunset hair to her blue eyes. She has the covers kicked off, and the sight of her dressed in my boxers and t-shirt as she gives a contented yawn like she fucking belongs here makes my dick ache nearly as much as my heart.

She asked you a question fuck-nut.

Clearing my throat, I straighten, coolly folding my arms as I lean against the doorframe. “Yes, ma’am. Just came to check on you.”

Winnow sits up, swinging her legs off the side of the bed so she can lavish Trigger with attention.

Lucky bastard.

“You sleep okay?”

“Yes, sir. Slept like the dead. I think yesterday really took it out of me. How’d you sleep on the couch?”

Terrible.“Fine.”

Her eyes narrow like she doesn’t quite believe me. “Well, it would make me feel better if you let me take the couch from now on.”

Absolutely not.“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

She purses her lips in a restrained smile.

“Is that your way of saying no?”

I’m forced to restrain my own grin. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Winnow’s head tips back with a laugh before she stands and saunters over to me, looking both bedraggled and beautiful, and good enough to make my fucking heart stop. She sidles beside me in the doorway and lays a hand on my arm, making my entire body tingle with awareness as she meets my gaze. “Come on, teach me how you like your food so I can make myself useful while you get cleaned up.”

Her hand moves and pats my abdomen as she echoes my words from last night. “Bet you could stand to put something warm in your belly.”

She saunters away, and my head tips forward, eyes locking on the prominent bulge in my jeans to verify that,yes, I am rock-fucking-hard.

Goddamn, this is going to be a test of fortitude.

“Be right there,” I call back, knowing that I’m going to be a few minutes because there’s no way I can follow her out there with my dick on display.

I don’t even bother to move to the fucking bathroom. I just shut the door where I stand, unbuckle my belt, unzip my jeans and pull my dick out. My head tips back on the bedroom door as I swipe the pre-cum dripping from my tip over my engorged crown. My rough strokes quickly hasten, all while increasingly depraved images of Winnow in submissive positions flicker through my mind:

Tied up and spread wide while I feast on her and coax her into a squirting climax.

Taking every inch of my dick down her throat.

The noises she’ll make, the way her body will tighten and tremble as her pussy flutters with an orgasm around my dick as I fill her with my cum.

That last one is what does me in.

As my orgasm begins to rise, my eyes leap to the unmade bed, and the space where Winnow will be sleeping for the foreseeable future. With a few hurried strides, I’m standing at her side of the bed.

My climax ascends, and my cock heaves torrents of hot, pulsing spurts of cum onto the spot directly where she lays. A twisted sort of satisfaction blossoms in my chest as I continue to milk my cock with gentling strokes, causing sloppy wet sounds to fill the room all while I envision it’s Winnow’s pretty, pink pussy that I’m painting as my fist works over my cum-drenched length.

I have zero intention of cleaning it up. I want her to sleep in my cum every-fucking-night until we both finally give into this and I can instead bury my seed where it belongs–in her pussy.

The burning desire I have for this woman isn’t dimmed in the slightest by my post-orgasm haze. Instead, it burns all thebrighter, and my cock remains unyielding. If Winnow wasn’t waiting for me, I’d continue, but I’m desperate to be in her presence, so I force myself into the bathroom, rinse my dick off, and try to make myself presentable.

WINNOW

Gideon teaches me how to make his favorite sandwich. It’s not nearly as elaborate a meal as I’d hoped—what he calls a BLTPAM: bacon, lettuce, tomato, pickles, avocado, and maple—just a drizzle. A certain pride fills his eyes when he tells me all the ingredients, including the mayo, were either grown on his land or are from another local farm that even has a large greenhouse operation. “I’d love to have a big enough greenhouse one day to grow tropical fruits like avocado. It wasn’t until about two years ago that I was really able to make a comfortable living from the ranch, but I reckon in another year or two, I’ll be able to branch out…”

Gideon swipes a corner of his sandwich into the dollop of homemade chipotle mayo he has near the edge of his plate before taking a big bite, and I follow suit.