Page 17 of Bouquets and Buckles
“Where do you want me to come?” He grits his teeth. We’re both dangling on the edge as his thrusts start to get jerkier and sloppier, just how fucking good this feels consumes the two of us all at once.
“Inside.” I gasp, barely holding on.
“You want me to fill this pretty little cunt up?” Luke grinds out the words with each punishing thrust.
“Yes. Come inside me.” My words are hardly more than a whimper. “Oh god. I want to feel it.”
Letting out a dark noise, that’s when he seeks out my clit.
I simply dissolve. My pussy clamps down so hard I think I see stars and blank spots behind my eyelids as a powerful climax tears through me.
“Jesus. Fuck.Fuck.I’m gonna fill you over and over.”
Luke’s hips jerk in an unsteady rhythm, and as my orgasm is still rolling through, my pussy still rippling and gripping him, I feel it. The length of him swells, and he makes a rough noise, burying himself deep.
His cock throbs and spills inside me, and I’m pretty sure there are moans coming out of me at how good it feels.
Holy shit, the feeling of him unloading, pulsing inside is like nothing else.
Nothing is going to compare to this.
As we both remain there, joined together, panting and attempting to catch our breath, I suspect that I’ve just allowed part of my foolish little heart to stay right here when I leave this place.
Chapter 14
“Don’t act like it’s the end of the world, Tessie-girl.”
She nudges my shoulder and nibbles the collar of my jacket with a snort as I give her breakfast.
We’re all creatures of routine, and the horses have all looked at me with big, dewy eyes as if I have three heads for being out here so early this morning.
It’s still dark out, the freezing air crisp, and I’ve left a gorgeous girl sleeping in my bed after the hottest night of my life.
However, a ranch doesn’t wait, or give a shit about my sex life—or lack thereof the majority of the time—so I’m rushing around with a flashlight in the dark and trudging through snow.
All so I can get back to her at the earliest opportunity.
Munching noises and gentle huffing sounds follow me as I check on all the stalls and make sure everyone is warm and comfortable after last night’s storm.
The familiar scent of wood, leather, and hay surrounds me. Smells that feel embedded in my very bones after so many years running this ranch. There are plenty of jobs I’ll have to get to later today, but mucking out stalls can wait.
I’ve got somewhere else I need to be.
My phone vibrates in my coat pocket, and I scrunch my brows as I dig it out. It doesn’t matter that it’s Christmas morning; I don’t know anyone who would be messaging me at this time of the day.
Brad:
Merry Christmas, old man.
Guilt immediately floodsme at the sight of Brad’s name. Does my son have fucking sixth sense or what?
You’re up early.
Oh,good. You’re as pleasant over text as you are in person at this time of day.
Repeat after me… “Merry Christmas, my son, the light of my life. I hope you and Flinn have a wonderful day and enjoy the thousands of dollars I just deposited in your bank account.”
Go on. Try it.