Page 60 of For Cowgirls and Kings (The Trauma Bonded #2)

FORTY-FIVE

ADALENE

Mateo’s hand engulfs mine across the center console of his truck, squeezing lightly, effectively landing me right back in the dream I wish was reality. I blink, clearing my mind of the sad haze, and turn to face him with a small smile.

His eyes narrow a second before turning back towards the road racing ahead of us.

It blurs in my periphery, but I can’t tear my gaze away from the mouth watering view that is Mateo’s side profile.

He looks cut from stone, hard lines and edges each more delicious than the next, and I ache to touch him. Scratch that, kiss him.

Fuck, I’d settle for rubbing my desperate, aching pussy on any one of those angular ridges of his face.

I scrunch my nose, still unable to turn my eyes away— I sound like a dog in heat. Which is probably an accurate description given that the man is constantly in my space, and mind, and the reality that I may never have him again sinks like a rock in my stomach.

What if this is my last chance?

Feeling the ache blossom from my heart, traveling down my veins like a poison, and settling low in my belly, I shiver .

I want him. And I’m going to have him now or I might just die.

“If you keep looking at me like that—” His words teeter off, as if he doesn’t quite know how to finish the sentence. I wish he would though.

“You’ll what, Mateo?” I ask, making a show of continuing to stare hungrily at his profile, running my tongue seductively over my lips. His eyebrow raises, and he peeks at me from the corner of his eye. Catching me obviously ogling him, his mouth quirks to the side, as he fights a smirk.

Is he as desperate as I am, or has he finally had his fill?

Feeling more feral by the second, I unfasten my seatbelt, and an insistent dinging fills the cab. I ignore it, getting on my knees on the seat, lifting the center console to slide next to him.

“Dale, what are you—” I slide my hand up his thigh, and his sentence ends on a hiss. His breathing becomes choppy, like he can’t focus enough to suck in real breaths, and I pray it’s because he wants me as bad as I want him still.

“I want you,” I whisper into his ear, darting my tongue out to lick the shell of it. He shivers, his hands clamping down on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.

“Not like this,” he grinds out. But we’re running out of time, and I don’t want to waste another second.

I lower my lips, tracing a path up the perfect line of his neck, running my tongue over the stubble peppering his jaw. My eyes flutter shut, the taste of him invading every cell in my body.

“Dale,” he whines.

“Hmmm?” I hum, running my tongue a second time over his jaw, pressing kisses in the wet path.

“We’ll be late—” I bite his earlobe hard enough to make him hiss, and then suck it to pull away a fraction of the pain before crawling closer still, now all but in his lap.

“Only if you stop driving,” I purr, my hand running up his thigh to the belt keeping his perfect facade wrapped behind black leather and a simple gold buckle. Pressing a final kiss to his chin, I begin to work his belt buckle with sure fingers, quickly popping it free, yanking the zipper down.

“You don’t have too, what if it reminds you?—”

My head snaps up, eyes fiercely boring into his, wide with concern. He’s always so gentle, so thoughtful, so concerning— but I’m not fucking breakable.

“If I want to suck the soul from your body, I fucking will. Nothing about you reminds me of them. Now shut up and let me suck your dick.”

He groans, his head hitting the headrest, knuckles cracking as he strangles the steering wheel. But he doesn’t stop me.

I scoot back, my knees on the passenger seat, ass in the air as I tug his pants and boxers down.

He even lifts his hips like a good boy should when I can’t get them down farther without help.

His cock springs free, already hard, the veins bluish beneath the delicate skin, his head glistening with precum.

“Mmm, what a good boy you are.” I run my hand over the crown, gathering the slickness before coating his shaft in it.

My face’s only inches away from him, and the intoxicating smell of him fills my lungs like the most potent drug.

His hair is dark and curly around the base, but manicured, not that I’d expect anything less, and I love that he’s not completely bald there.

It reminds me of the beast underneath—imperfect, but masculine to his very bones.

“God, you’re beautiful Mateo. A king, ready to be worshiped.”

“Fuck, Dale,” he groans, one hand falling from the wheel to push the hair falling over the side of my face.

My eyes flick to his for a second, and I see the desperation in his expression.

So I do what I feel any truly powerful woman would do—I flick out my tongue teasing the tip just to see him shudder, and then I face his cock fully, sucking him down in one single push.

I moan at the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of his silky skin filling my hungry mouth. My tongue works up and down his shaft, running along each tender vein, taking special attention on the crown, spreading the growing pool of saliva gathering in my mouth.

“Holy fuck!” he growls, his fingers now twisting my braid like he just can’t help himself.

Mateo’s hips twitch, pushing his dick farther down my throat and I gag, saliva running in a stream from my mouth to pool at his base.

Even as my eyes begin to water, I eagerly begin to bob my head, aware that I won’t be able to take him all, but desperate enough to try.

Using my free hand, I spread the pool of spit at his base around the lower part of his cock with my hand, making jerking and twisting motions in tandem. He grows impossibly harder in my mouth, and I moan again, spurred on by his response to my touch.

I’ve never felt more powerful.

“You’re going to kill me.” His voice is gravelly, and I have the faint awareness that the truck begins to slow. But I don’t, instead picking up pace, gagging as I push his fat head past the tight muscle in my throat, breathing through my nose.

His hand brushes my hair back once more, and he hums his approval. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world, choking on my cock. You’re going to make me come like this baby.”

“Mmmhmmm,” I praise, working faster, my free hand twisting around his balls, kneading them between my fingers. If he doesn’t come in my mouth I might die.

“Fuck baby, are you going to take all of me? You're going to swallow my cum like my good little whore?”

Instead of responding, I push further on his cock, the sounds of my gagging filling the truck. Mateo begins to pant, his hand slamming into the roof of the truck, his other tangled in my braid as he starts to fuck my mouth, no longer able to hold back.

And it’s this man I’m in love with . The completely lost and out of control one—the one who thinks, sees, breathes, nothing but me.

“I’m gonna come baby.” He groans right before the first rope hits my throat. I swallow the salty taste of him— a welcome reward for my efforts. His dick thickens, pulsing and I breathe shallowly in an effort to not lose even a single drop he gives me.

His hold loosens in my hair, moving to my chin as he gently pulls me off his cock with a wet pop.

I realize we’ve stopped on the side of the road, the truck idling beneath us, and a fresh wave of power rushes me—he just couldn’t control himself.

Locking eyes with his—blown black with desire—I lick my lips once more with a smirk.

He growls, pulling my face to his with the grip on my chin, crashing his lips to mine.

It’s a hungry, frantic kiss, and I cling to the front of his shirt with my own fists.

If this is the last time I have him, at least it was like that. Reclaiming my own power— giving him my heart in the only way I know how.

“I want you so fucking bad, Dale, every moment of every day, but I’m certain my best work will not be done here in the front seat of my truck. Not to mention, someone will definitely see us.” His words mumble across my lips, and I pause with the realization he wants more. He wants more of me.

Logically I know what he’s saying is true. But fuck logic right now.

“I don’t care,” I groan into his mouth. Before I have a second to reconsider I climb into his lap, straddling his already reharden dick. The dress I wore is loose, and movement is easy, allowing me to press my aching center to his erection with minimal effort.

“Fuuuucccckkk,” he growls, both of his hands now on my ass, pushing and pulling me in circles. The hard ridge of his dick, long and thick, rubs deliciously against my core, but it’s still not enough.

Not by a long shot.

“Fuck me, please,” I beg. And I mean every word. I want him to take me, viciously, right here where everyone can see. Not only because I need him inside me, but because I want everyone to see him and me. I want to claim him, and him, me. I need it.

“I’d give you anything.”

He shudders, placing both hands on my waist and lifting me up until my head bumps against the roof of the truck. I stabilize myself, arm outstretched against the ceiling, my other reaching for his erect cock, lining it up with my pussy as he yanks my underwear to the side.

For a second he pauses, eyes boring into mine, his breath mingling with my own.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, and it’s a plea more than a question.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” I respond, meaning the words more than he may know. I want him now, and forever, although I know only one of those two options will actually be possible.

I’ll take what I can get even if it kills me later.

His eyes shutter closed. “I’m sorry I didn’t warm you up a little more before, but based on the way you’re already dripping around my cock, I think we’ll be okay.”

I whine at his filthy words, squirming in his hands.

And then he drops me onto his waiting cock, fully thrusting inside of me in one fluid, hard motion.

He stretches me to the point of pain, filling me so completely my organs rearrange themselves to accommodate him.

And I welcome the utter completeness I feel when he’s buried this deeply inside of me.

I’ll never be the same again. And there’s no part of me that’s sorry—not when I know what it feels like to be with Mateo.

He quivers, his hands now on my back, hugging me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear, and it shatters my remaining composure.

“Fuck, Mateo, please,” I plead.

“You feel so fucking good, I’m not going to last long, baby.” His voice trembles. Even having just spent his release in my mouth, Mateo’s ready for me again, unhinged and feral with his want for me.

I begin to twist my hips, grinding my clit against his base. Sparks fill my stomach like fireworks, and I drop a hand from the roof to tangle in his perfect hair. We pant in unison, too lost to the lust to do or say much else.

Everytime we’re together it feels better than any person has a right to feel during sex—it has to be a deadly sin, something stolen from a world not meant for us. But this time it’s different. It’s like we’re saying everything we’re too afraid to use words for.

I pour my heart into the space between us, and I can almost feel his, hot and pounding there too.

With hands on my hips, he starts to lift up into me on each circle I make, driving us both higher and higher until I’m covered in beads of sweat, one hand anchored to the ceiling of the truck, the other in his hair, to keep him buried as deep as possible.

My tits bounce in his face, and he sucks at the tops, pressing kisses and small bites all over the freckled covered skin.

“You’re going to kill me,” he cries hoarsely, and my pussy pulses in response. “That’s it. You’re so fucking beautiful like this, so perfect with your tight little pussy strangling my cock. Fuck, take what you need baby.”

“More,” I whimper, not sure exactly what I need. As if reading my mind, his kisses travel up the column of my throat, while one hand comes between us, his fingers instantly finding my clit, pressing firm, small circles there.

I instantly scream, the contact enough to shoot me over the edge of release. Violent tremors consume my body, and I dig my fingers into his scalp to keep from falling completely into the abyss.

“Baby,” he groans, floating through the haze of my release, and I grind against him mindlessly. His fingers bite into my hips, like he’s about to lift me off him, and I force myself to sit down harder.

“No. I want your cum in me.”

“But—”

My eyes snap open, and I will him to hear everything else I’m unable to say. “Please.”

And then he does, stilling beneath me, his eyes never leaving mine as ribbon after ribbon of cum sprays inside of me, marking me as his from the inside out.

I’ll be his, forever, no matter what happens next.