Page 121 of For Cowgirls and Kings

I want to fucking bruise her—pour every ounce of unspoken emotion out of my hands and into her body.

But she doesn’t pull away. Her hair tickles my chest as she leans forward, her lips dusting over the shell of my ear, “harder.”

My head falls forward, pressing into her forehead. “Fuck, Dale. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“You angry, your highness?” she coos into my ear, her own hands raking over my shoulders.

I rub my head back and forth. “So fucking angry. You were hurt because of me.”

Her hands drop, looping behind herself to grip my own stillpinched into her flesh. “This. This is you hurting me.” One hand moves to grip my chin, tipping my face to peer into hers. “What you’re saying is fucking hurting me. We might not work out, but it sure as fuck won’t be because what happened to me was your fault. It wasn’t Mateo, and I won’t let you take the blame a moment longer. This is my trauma, my story, my fucking shit. And you’ve been my light through all of it.”

We might not work out—I’ve been thinking it, but hearing her say it shatters something in me. It shatters the part of me that’s been controlled by fear—the idea of the future I thought I had or needed—my idea of obligation and being a good man.

Because if we don’t work out, what’s the point of my life?

My fingers bite harder into her soft flesh, and I press my head heavily into her chest.What have I done?

I know she deserves better, but I’ll be fucking damned if I let her go. I don’t care what kind of man that makes me.

We stay like this for several moments, clinging to the other like we might just fall off the earth, lost to our own insecure thoughts.

“I need you.” It’s a plea, full of more meaning than either of us is willing to admit.

“You have me, Mateo. I’m here.” Her voice cracks. Without thinking, I stand scooping her up in my arms and carry her to the bed. I go to drop her, but her nails dig into my back, anchoring us together.

“Don’t be gentle,” she whispers against my ear, and my grip tightens a fraction before I finally release her with a thud against the mattress.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to be.”

And then I’m stripping from my jeans and crawling over top of her at the same moment she pulls the shirt over her head, exposing her perfect, bare body beneath. Her nipples pebble beneath my gaze, a deep red stain spreading like spilled paintover her tanned skin. The freckles on her breasts dance as she quivers beneath me.

The sight of her is still as breathtaking as it was that first time. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” I moan against her neck, her flesh like silk against my own. I thrust my erection over the soft plane of her stomach, drawing a small glistening path of precum over her skin.

She huffs, but I don’t miss the breathless quality to her voice. “Don’t sweet talk me right now, Mateo. I don’t want the gentleman, I want the beast.”

Well, fuck, if she’s going to be a brat…

I grip her hip with one hand, my biceps quivering as I hover over her, my other wrapped around my already throbbing cock as I line it up with her drenched entrance. “Yes, cowgirl,” I grind out as I thrust into her in one swift punishing push, her body all but tearing at the intrusion.

Dale screams, her back bowing, but her nails dig into my back like she can’t get enough. And that’s all the confirmation I need.

I lift one of her legs, pressing a kiss to her knee as I pound into her, my hips moving at a pace I know I won’t be able to keep up for long, the sounds of our bodies colliding filling the small room. Her tits sway, a deep reddish-purple color, all but screaming to be bitten or sucked, or both.

“You feel so good—like this pussy was made for me,” I growl, stretching her further. My eyes glue to spot where we’re joined, and I watch as her glistening, pink hole sucks me in, greedily gripping my cock. “Look at this greedy little pussy.”

“Yes,” she pants, her eyes wide as she shifts to look down her body. I angle my hips to give her a better view of my cock coated in her want for me, as it slides in and out. She cries out beneath me, her hands running over my skin like she doesn't know what to do with them.

“Do you like being my play thing Dale, my dirty little whore?”

“Oh god, yes.” Her throat bobs, eyes frantic.

“You feel so fucking good, just like a good whore should.”

She nods, trapping her lip between perfectly white teeth. Normally I would want her to have the control, but fuck me.I. Can’t. Stop.

“Get on your knees for me baby.” Dale all but pulls herself off me to do as I ask. “So eager to please,” I coo.

She moves to the center of the bed, her ass bouncing as she situates herself, the skin rippling—soft and untouched. But that just won’t do.