Page 36 of Fairground (Whitewood Creek Farm #3)

I let him guide me, lowering to the floor of the pumpkin as the float bumps and rocks down the towns' road. My knees dig into the padded base, and I arch my back instinctively, desperate for more friction, more of him. My body’s still trembling from the aftershocks of y orgasm, but I’m ready for whatever he has planned next.

? I never used to be like this. Eager for more immediately after getting an orgasm.

But Cash has changed my mind about everything.

“What are you doing?” I ask, turning my head to look at him because he hasn’t touched me since he caught me and told me to get down here.

He’s standing behind me, his pants pushed low on his hips, boxers tented by his straining cock. It’s hard, pressing against the fabric and I can see the tip of him peeking through the opening in the front like it has no choice but to make itself known. His gaze holds mine as he watches me.

“Beg for it,” he says, voice low and rough around the edges, like gravel and heat.

I glance back at him, heart thudding. A line like that would’ve had me rolling my eyes with anyone else. But with Cash, it lands different. There’s no ego in it—just want. Just worship.

Because even as he tells me to beg, I can feel it—how tightly wound he is. How he’s barely holding it together.

And somehow, that makes me feel like the one in control. Like I’m the one pulling the strings.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaky but full of need. “Please. Fuck me.”

He pushes his boxers downward and wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it lazily as he lowers to his knees behind me.

The tip glistens, and my mouth waters at the sight.

Such a round, smooth head. Probably the most perfect one that I've ever seen.

He slides it through my pussy once, twice, before pressing the head against my clit and rubbing.

“I need more than that, Rae,” he murmurs, his rough hands finding my hips again. He adjusts me, lifting slightly to angle me just right, my ass arched into him. “You know I like it when you say my name. When you tell me exactly how much you want me to ruin you.”

A moan slips from my lips before I can stop it, and I know I’m done for.

This is exactly what I want—to be ruined by the man who names his chickens and has the gentlest hands but can’t seem to keep them off me.

The man who’s supposed to be my rival but is wild enough to finger me in the middle of our town’s parade then fuck me in the bottom of a pumpkin float where the people we're begging to vote for us are standing a mere foot away. The guy everyone says doesn’t have a woman more than once and isn’t interested in settling down yet has taken me so many times I’ve lost count.

“Please,” I gasp. “Please, Cash, fuck me. I need you to ruin me.”

A smirk crosses his face, slow and knowing, as he tears into a condom. He rolls it on with practiced ease, the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He pushes in just enough to make me gasp, then pulls back.

“More,” I whine, my voice cracking with desperation. “Cash, give me all of you. I need it. I need you.”

“Greedy girl,” he teases, his tone dripping with amusement as his fingers kneed the flesh on my ass.

“Hurry!” I snap, my patience fraying. My hands claw at the wooden floor of the float, my body writhing with need. “The parade’s going to end, and they’re going to open this damn pumpkin and find us naked and fucking. It smells like sex in here already.”

His grin widens, cocky and unapologetic. “That’s because of you, my dear, and your sweet cunt. Plus, I like how it smells in here. Isn’t that part of the thrill? Knowing we could get caught? Bet you’re extra wet just thinking about that possibility.”

He pulls back again, completely this time, and shifts his weight until he drops his head between my legs.

His hands grip my thighs as he spreads me.

I let out a moan because I think he’s right.

I never thought I liked the thrill of knowing someone could be watching us, but I realized fast that the thrill turns me on so much more.

“You want to know what you need to say to get me to fuck you fast and hard?” he asks, his voice velvet and gravel all at once.

“Yes,” I moan, my head dropping as his tongue flattens against my slit. He licks me slowly, from my opening to my ass, where he flicks over it with just enough pressure to make me cry out and clench.

“What do I need to say, Cash?” I plead, my voice shaking as his hands tighten on my thighs, steadying me.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers against me. “And tell me you want everyone out there to know it. I've never felt like this before. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Rae.”

His tongue dips back inside me, dragging painfully slow before swirling and sucking his way up my slit. When he reaches my clit, he flicks it once—sharp, deliberate, and maddening. My whole body jerks in response, and I’m squirming now—pissed, horny, flustered, and frustrated.

Because damn him, he’s right.

He’s been right since practically the moment I arrived in this town, but admitting that I'm his? It feels like I'd be baring a part of my soul. It feels so vulnerable. Does he mean what he’s saying or is this still all a game to him?

“No,” I whisper.

He doesn’t stop, though. His fingers reach up, brushing along my pussy again before his thumb flicks against my clit—taunting, teasing, infuriating.

“Fuck you for teasing me,” I groan, but the words barely leave my mouth before his two fingers plunge inside me without warning eliciting a loud gasp. He pumps them in deep, swirling them with just enough pressure to make my back arch as a squeal of pleasure escapes my lips.

“Nah,” he smirks, his voice low and smug. “I don’t think I’ll do that.”

“Cash!” I gasp, louder than I mean to, my head snapping in the direction of the crowd that’s just beyond the pumpkin float.

His hand clamps over my mouth, silencing me instantly. His other hand keeps working between my legs, relentless and unapologetic.

“Careful now,” he warns, leaning in close. “The crowd isn’t that far away and these pumpkin walls you and Lawson built don’t look sturdy. You want a small town scandal, sweetheart? Shouting my name while I’m about to be balls deep inside you in this pumpkin is how you get one.”

I nip at his palm, trying to get him to move his hand, but he only grins.

“Give me those teeth somewhere useful, Rae. On my cock, perhaps?”

I don’t hesitate. As soon as his hand drops, he moves up to my head, kneeling until his cock is hovering over my face.

Like the good girl I am—okay, maybe not that good.

I've never been a fan of that phrase but here I am, being a good woman —I do exactly as he says because I want this so badly, I can’t think straight.

My fingers trail up his shaft before I rip the condom that he just put on clean off his dick.

“Really?” he asks, eyebrows lifting, the corner of his lip twitching upward.

I just smirk. “What? I’m not giving head with that in the way. I don’t like how plastic tastes.”

He doesn’t argue, just laughs quietly. His cock twitches in my grip as my tongue darts out, tracing up the seam of him before tapping lightly against the tip.

Then I seal my mouth around his head, sucking hard and slow.

My teeth graze his length—just enough to make him hiss—and the sound shoots straight through me.

His fingers thread through my hair, tightening just slightly. “Damn, you’ve got a wicked mouth.”

I smile around him, my hands sliding down to cradle his balls, brushing my fingers over the soft skin there.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice tight. “Now, take me all the way down your throat.”

I open wider, letting him thrust forward until he’s so deep I can’t do anything but choke.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I don’t pull back.

Instead, I swallow hard, my throat tightening around him the best I can, my breathing labored.

He groans like it's ruining him, the sound low and guttural.

“Fuck,” he growls, his hips twitching as he pulls back. “This mouth is a dream. Breathe out of your nose, baby, I don’t want you passing out on me.”

I reach for his shaft again, pumping him slowly in my fist, but he loosens my grip and pulls away entirely.

“Stop playing with me, Cash,” I bite out, panting now, my frustration building to a dangerous level. “We don’t have that much time.”

“I know.” He moves behind me again, his cock pressing against my opening, teasing me with two slow swipes. “But now I'm all out of condoms,” he says on a sigh.

“I don’t care.” The words tumble out of my mouth so fast I barely register them. He stills behind me, his cock hovering just at my entrance, as he waits for me to say more.

“Birth control?” he asks, his voice softer now.

I nod, my chest heaving. “And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you in months.”

His mouth brushes against the shell of my ear, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Good. So am I. Thank you for trusting me.”

Then, before I can say anything else, his fingers plunge back inside me, curling slightly as he rubs. He pumps them slowly a few times, pulling another moan from my throat, before he pulls them out and stuffs them into his mouth.

“Sweet,” he murmurs, licking his fingers clean. “Plan on fucking you with the taste of you still lingering on my tongue.”

And then he’s there again, the thick head of his cock pressing at my opening. This time, there’s no hesitation. He jerks his hips forward, filling me in one hard thrust that has me clawing at the wall of the pumpkin, gasping as I try not to face plant on the floor.

“Cash,” I groan, my head falling forward as the stretch of him steals every word from my lips. His warm, completely exposed skin against mine feels different and it’s taking everything inside of me to hold back from telling him everything I’m feeling.

“Hold on, Rae,” he mutters, his hands gripping my hips like he’s staking his claim. “I’m just getting started.”