Page 9 of My Match with the Cowboy (Sterling Brothers Ranch #4)

EIGHT

IMOGEN

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But I keep my eyes locked on Calder as his cock inches inside me.

For a moment, the bravado of telling him to fuck me disappears.

I expect a pinch of pain, but instead, there’s a fiery burn as his cock—which is much bigger than I expected—attempts to tear me apart.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, which doesn’t stop me from whimpering. Calder hesitates for a moment, which gives me a chance to adjust to his size.

The last thing I want to do is stroke his ego, but I shift beneath him as I say, “You’re a lot…bigger than I imagined.”

A smirk twists his lips, but concern darkens his eyes. “This doesn’t have to go any further, trouble. We can stop now.”

I shake my head, relaxing a bit as the pain fades. “No,” I reply. “I want to keep going. I want to feel it all.”

Something else darkens his eyes, but he doesn’t push back against my words.

Instead, he pulls out of me before starting a rhythm of slow, short strokes, like he’s working me open, preparing me for the full size of him.

Even I can admit that it’s working. With each stroke, he enters more of me, until all I feel is him.

Calder moves his hand between us and toys with my clit. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his thrusts long and hard. That familiar flutter in my belly happens again, signalling my next orgasm. “You’re doing so well, trouble. Such a good girl. You’ve taken all of me now.”

Dammit, he feels good. The pain is gone, leaving me with a burning pleasure that washes away everything from the last day.

Calder’s hips slam against mine, each thrust dragging me closer and closer to my finish. The fingers playing with my clit are like a musician, strumming an instrument they know too well. Somehow, this man knows how to work me, knows how to get me to the end, and I don’t even understand how.

My second orgasm crashes into me, harder than the first. I bite down on a cry when even Calder grunts, his thrusts coming to a sudden halt. I feel a different kind of warmth fill me as he slows his pace, until there’s nothing but our harsh breaths in the quiet room.

Calder’s features soften as he kisses the corner of my lips. It’s far gentler than any of the other kisses he’s stolen. And somehow, it makes my heart clench in a way that isn’t familiar to me.

“Wait here,” he says, pulling out of me slowly. I feel it then; the escape of fluid as it leaves me. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

I notice how soaked his dick is as he slips off the bed. Wet with my release, and his own. My stomach bottoms out, but I wipe any worry from my face as he grabs something off the chest of draws and uses it to clean himself up. Calder barely glances at me as he pulls his boxers on.

“Where are you going?” I ask, rising up on my elbows.

Calder smiles, leans down, and kisses the top of my head. “Bathroom. To get a washcloth.”

“Maybe I should?—”

He cuts me off with an actual kiss. “No, you wait here.” His eyes darken as they roam my body. “I want to see you like this when I come back.”

I shudder, but say nothing as he leaves me. Maybe I should feel embarrassed about having sex in his family’s home. Actually, I should. But I feel…

I don’t know how I feel. Especially after everything.

The night is a mess of our kiss, the break-in, and now sex.

I had sex with Calder Sterling. Someone I should not like as much as I do.

I lie back and run a hand over my face. God, what have I gotten myself into?

Calder returns quietly with a washcloth in hand, and something else. “T-shirt for you,” he says, setting it down on the bed before sitting at my feet. “So you can sleep comfortably.”

My cheeks warm. “Thanks. But you don’t?—”

He doesn’t listen, instead giving me a look I don’t comment on. He slides the washcloth between my thighs, cleaning me with a gentleness that has my heart doing that thing again.

That thing that tells me I’m about to be hurt badly if this man walks away.

I wake to sunlight shining through an open window. I groan, trying to cover my eyes, but something warm and heavy has my arms trapped.

It takes me a moment to realise that I am not in my own bed, alone in the cabin. And it is not four in the morning, which means I overslept.

It means I’m late.

I turn my head to find Calder sleeping behind me. It’s his large body holding me captive, his damned heavy arm trapping my own.

A rush of sensations hit me; desire because I can feel the press of his hard dick against my ass, despite the dull ache between my thighs; annoyance at my bladder being full and requiring relief; embarrassment that I’m still here and not sneaking out like I should be.

And fear of what will happen when he wakes up and realises just that.

I startle at the feel of soft kisses on my neck, a nip at the lobe of my ear. Warm breath fans my cheek as the man holding me sighs. “Morning, trouble.”

“Morning,” I squeak, tensing as he buries his face in my hair. “What?—”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat that is sexy—which should concern me. Part growl, part groan, both going right to my lower belly. “How are you feeling?” he asks, arms tightening around me.

I tense. “Like, mentally? Emotionally?” I try to shift in his embrace, to maybe roll over and put a little bit of space between us, but his hold on me is firm. “Fine.”

Calder chuckles deeply. “And physically?”

Somehow, my cheeks grow hotter. “Uh, a little sore.”

His fingers trace little circles on my belly; once, I would have felt insecure about it, maybe even subtly tried to pull his hand away from that spot. But none of that rears its head. I actually enjoy the gentle touches, the cuddling.

I shouldn’t, but I do.

For the first time since my grandfather died, I actually feel something again.

And it’s terrifying.

Calder sneaks me into the bathroom an hour later, dark hair messy from sleep, eyes bright with something I can’t read. “Take your time,” he says, eyes roaming my body—from the t-shirt barely covering my ass, down my thighs, then up to meet mine again. “Let me sort out breakfast.”

I swallow hard. “You don’t have to do that,” I reply, shaking my head. “You’ve done enough already.”

He takes a step towards me, filling my space. “What if I like doing this?” One hand moves to the sink behind me, the other cupping my cheek. “What if I want to be the one to take care of you?”

There’s a need burning in the hazel of his eyes. Not a need for more sex, but for something else.

And I don’t get the impression he’s lying, either.

I release a shaky breath. “Calder?—”

He cuts me off with a soft kiss. Another that takes my breath away, that fills my heart with that unfamiliar warmth. “Learn to hand over the reins sometime, trouble,” he teases, pulling back.

“What about work? And talking to the sheriff…” I take the hand on my cheek and pull it away. “Those are things you can’t handle for me, Calder.”

He raises a brow, but steps away. I feel the lack of his warmth immediately. “We’ll see about that.” He winks, eyes taking in my body again. “I’ll be back.”

With that, he slips out of the bathroom. I try to suck in calming, even breaths, but each one is harder than the last.

I don’t like this feeling rushing through me. This desire to be taken care of. It’s too comfortable letting him do these things for me. It’s too easy leaning on him for support.

Except I know better than to do that. I’ve always been able to take care of myself. I know how it can bite you in the ass, letting someone in who doesn’t have the best of intentions.

I don’t even know his intentions. I’m starting to think it’s not just about the funeral anymore, not about Miss Iris and her little matchmaking ability.

But I’m terrified to find out what he really wants. I don’t want last night to be tainted by the truth, and yet…

And yet my heart is betraying me. Every little kiss, every stolen touch.

It’s falling harder and harder for him.

I just don’t know if it’s too late to stop it.