Page 34

The grass is slick—way too slick. My dad used to tell me that if my brothers and I were going to run around outside during a storm, that we better be prepared to bust our asses at least once and we always did.

But I’m sprinting through the storm anyways, pushing my legs as fast as they’ll go, trying to make it back to the house before Hayes catches up to me. ??

But he’s bigger. Stronger. And before I have the chance to dodge him, his fingers clamp around my wrist, yanking me back to him.

A shriek escapes my lips as I lose my footing, tumbling into his chest until we both go crashing down onto the soaked earth, me landing on top of him in a pile of soaked limbs.

The rain pounds harder, drowning out our laughter.

I’m breathless, hair plastered to my face, but when I raise my chin to look down at him, I swear I’ve never seen him so relaxed.

Hayes—the brooding, stubborn, guarded man I married to purchase this property that we’re laying on—is smiling up at me, warm and unguarded, like I’ve unlocked something inside him that no one else has been able to.

He brushes a lock of hair away from my face tenderly, his palm sliding to cradle my cheek as he searches my eyes.

And fuck, this man. He’s closed off, a little broken, hesitant with his heart and yet I’m falling for him anyways.

I’m terrified of the ways that he could hurt me. But I want him anyways.

Not just his body. Not just the heat, the friction, the addictive way he makes me feel with his lips, fingers and cock.

I want him. All the fractured parts of his heart. And I wish he’d want me back.

His fingers tighten at the base of my skull until he’s pulling my face closer. Our lips meet, and I sigh into him, melting into the wet, searing kiss as his tongue sweeps inside of my mouth. A groan rattles through his chest and across our lips as he kisses me harder.

“Fuck, Regan, your lips are addictive.”

Then, with a swift movement, he flips me onto my back.

The world tilts as the sky opens up above me, thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance as the rain continues to pour down.

He hovers over me, water dripping from his dark lashes, pupils blown wide as he gazes down at me, studying every inch of my face.

“You’re like no woman I’ve ever met before.”

I smile shyly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He nods but his face isn’t playful. He’s more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “You should. It is.”

That has my heart seizing in my chest.

His hand skims down, across my breasts, then to cup my ribs before his fingers slip between my thighs, finding exactly what he already knows—I’m still soaked for him. Still wanting more.

That last orgasm in the barn was mind-altering.

Powerful. Earth-shaking. I know he felt it too, the shift between us.

There’s something wild that’ s blooming here on the Manor, something that started as a deal to get what we both wanted but has spiraled into something bigger, something dangerous.

I just hope it doesn’t wreck me when it’s over.

He fists the damp fabric of my ruined dress, bunching it around my waist before lowering his head and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to my inner thigh. Then, without hesitation, he licks a slow, filthy stripe up my slit before groaning into me and diving back in deep with his tongue.

A whimper spills from my lips as I arch into his mouth.

The rain beats down on us, soaking through our clothes, our skin, but none of it matters—because all I can feel is him everywhere inside of me.

His tongue delving deeper, his lips sealing around my clit, sucking, devouring, taking what I’m offering to him, his fingers squeezing the flesh on my thighs as he holds me still.

Lightning flashes somewhere in the distance from the storm, but the real storm is right here, between my thighs and in my heart because what we’re doing is dangerous.

I fist my hands in his wet hair, tugging, desperate. “Hayes,” I pant, gripping his shoulders, dragging his face up to me. “Fuck me again. Please. ”

His nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants.

Then he shoves his soaked pants down again, both of our clothes useless at this point.

His cock is already thick and leaking, the fat, flushed head leaving wet streaks across my stomach as he pumps it once, twice, before lining it up between my thighs.

The first glide inside is almost effortless. We both groan, heads falling forward, mouths colliding as he stretches me open all over again.

“Dammit,” he grits, gripping my hip, rolling into me with slow, deep thrusts. “I’ll never get sick of this.”

He reaches for one leg, hooks it over his shoulder to angle me deeper—and fuck —I feel so full when he has me positioned like this.

“Eyes up, Regan.” His voice is rough, commanding. “Look at me when I’m inside of you. Watch me as I take what’s mine.”

I reach between us, palming his balls, feeling the way they tighten with each downward thrust, and he growls.

“Be patient,” he grits out, but his eyes are wild, the rain making his hair stick to his forehead, his cowboy hat somewhere discarded next to us getting ruined.

Maybe I should be disappointed that the hat from our first night together will be useless after this, but I’m not. The people we were when we met seven years ago wouldn’t recognize who we are today. I don’t recognize us anymore.

I shake my head, breathless. “More. I want more.”

And he gives it to me.

Slamming into me harder, hips snapping, balls smacking against my ass, his body moves in sync with the rain that’s hammering down around us. It’s a rhythm, a symphony of wet sounds and desperate moans, the storm serenading us while we fuck in the middle of the land on the dirt that we both own.

A particularly deep thrust has me screaming into the rain and I know I’m close.

“That’s it,” he groans. “I’ve got you, baby. Come for me.”

And I shatter.

White-hot pleasure explodes behind my eyes as my body locks up then trembles and breaks. My mouth opens, gasping for air, rain dripping into it as I arch and lose myself with him. I’m gasping for air, trying to hold onto anything that’ll keep me rooted to the earth, but he doesn’t stop.

He keeps fucking me through it, a few deeper, punishing strokes before his body stiffens, muscles coiling in his neck so tightly they look like they might snap as he gazes into my eyes.

“You’re it ,” he grits out between clenched teeth and then a strangled roar tears from his throat as he jerks free from my pussy at the last second, his cock pulsing between us, spilling hot ropes of cum across my stomach and my ruined dress.

His hips shake as he works himself through it, stroking himself harder until there’s nothing left for him to give.

I blink up at him, completely wrecked, body spent, skin slick with rain and sweat and him .

All the best parts of us together. And damn, this view.

Watching him lose control, watching his cum drip down across my stomach?

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. But what did he mean by what he said. What’s it?

“Fuck,” he whispers, head dropping forward to rest against my forehead, breath ragged. “That was…fuck. I ruined your rehearsal dinner dress.”

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t care about it.” I don’t care about anything right now.

Then, with shaking limbs, I roll out from under him and push to my feet, grabbing his hand and intertwining our fingers to help him stand.

“Come on,” I murmur. “Let’s go clean up together.”