Page 57 of For Cowgirls and Kings (The Trauma Bonded #2)

Her hands drop, looping behind herself to grip my own still pinched 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 paint over 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.

My hand lands with a loud crack against her perfect flesh before I have a second to reconsider and she cries out, pressing her ass higher toward me. “That’s for keeping secrets from me.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, and I can’t help but chuckle darkly in response.

“I highly doubt that.” I run a finger through her quivering pussy, the lips silky against my calluses as I gather her slickness, drawing a line up her crack to the puckered ring of her ass. “Should I fill you here as your punishment?”

She shivers, her entire body rippling beneath my touch, but she doesn’t say no. And as badly as I want to fill her every hole, I also know I’d never forgive myself for taking her in that way, like this. I’ll just save that for another day.

“You’ve never done doggy style.” I know she hasn’t, but the primal, beast part of me wants to hear her say it. I run a hand over my shaft, gently pumping myself as I wait.

“No, never. You’re the only person I’ve been with.”

Gripping her hips, I pull her back to me, lining my cock up once more, pressing just the head into her. “That’s right. You’re my whore, and only my whore.”

“Yes, only your whore,” she cries as I press another torturously slow inch inside of her. And then I smirk, pausing.

“You ever have something this big inside of you before me, baby?”

She pauses, and I can sense her annoyance even if I can’t see her face. My little whore doesn’t like being teased, denied. “No, never. Now fuck me, Mateo.”

“Never?” I push another inch inside her heat, and pause once more.

She screeches, slamming a fist into the mattress before looking over her shoulder at me. “You know I haven’t.”

“What about a dildo—black and glittery? Extra-large?”

Her eyes widen, mouth popping open like a fish, but no words come out.

“Careful, or next time I’ll fuck your mouth open like that while I fuck your ass with the dildo molded after my own dick. I didn’t want you fucking anything that wasn’t me, Dale. Not then, and never again,” I growl.

She groans, her head drooping between her shoulders, and then I thrust the rest of the way inside, filling her completely.

“Oh, god. I’m so full.” She moans.

“That’s right, so full of my cock.”

“Yes, so full of your cock,” she parrots. “And I want you to fuck my mouth and my ass. I want to feel you everywhere.”

“Shit, Dale.” Her plea only pushes me closer to the edge, my balls tingling with unspent release as they slap against her flesh.

“You’re going to have to come soon, baby. I can’t last much longer.”

“I’m so close.”

“Touch yourself.”

I feel her shifting beneath me, her face falling to the covers as her arm snakes down her stomach to her clit. This new angle allows me to go even deeper and with each stroke, I feel the fire erupt to an inferno in my belly. We cry out in unison, each pump pulling us closer to the edge.

“Harder,” she cries, and I oblige her, pounding harder and faster into her greedy pussy. Her skin glistens with beads of sweat beneath me, my own no doubt matching hers. The bed rocks and squeaks, the headboard raking across the wall.

But even in a house with other people who can no doubt hear us, all I can think about is ruining her the way she’s so completely ruined me.

Dale Mendes will be the death of me. And if she’s not, then I’ve completely failed in this life.

“Mateo, I’m coming,” she cries, her body stilling, spine stiffening before her pussy viciously clamps down around me. Dale grips me so tightly, her body as desperate for my release as her own, and I’m a helpless victim to her wants.

My own finish barrels forward, flooding my senses so completely that I don’t realize I’m shouting her name over and over as I pump inside of her, filling her so much, cum starts to spill down her thighs around my cock.

Her body trembles beneath me as we both fight to catch our breaths. I reluctantly pull out of her, watching the proof of us running out of her pussy as she clenches and unclenches with each labored breath.

“I should get something to clean you up,” I whisper, suddenly very conscious of the fact we were no doubt overheard.

Dale turns to me, pulling her legs beneath her before patting the space beside her. “Lay with me, just for a second.”

Crawling into the space beside her, I stretch out, and Dale lays down, her leg slug over my own.

Our sweat mingles, making our skin sticky, but I can’t be bothered to care.

She rests her head over my heart, her face flushed, curls damp at her temples.

And I watch her eyes flick back and forth, no doubt a million thoughts racing in her own mind.

For the first time ever, I think Dale might just be willing to walk away. She might have heard all my insecure thoughts and feelings and took them as truth, when they couldn’t have been more of a lie. I said everything I thought I should say, when they couldn’t have been farther from how I felt.

What if she believes me? What if she thinks I don’t want her?

That thought alone makes me pull her tighter to me. A gentleman would let her go, but I’m done being a gentleman—it’s never once done me any good.

I’ll give up anything, destroy anyone, to keep Dale. And then I’ll prove to her for the rest of time I’m the one who will protect her, make her happy, love her the way she deserves.