Page 33 of Wild Hearts (Ruby Ridge #1)

I set the shot glass down beside him on the table, my heart thundering in my ears as I climbed onto his lap, straddling him with my knees bracketing his hips.

The second I settle against him, I feel it—his cock already thick and hard beneath me.

His hands move instinctively, gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise.

“Open your mouth,” I order.

He looks at me for half a second, confusion etched on his features, but then, the cocky bastard parts his lips anyway. I throw back the shot, the whiskey burning down my throat, and before he could blink, I grab his throat with both hands, leaning in close, and spit the whiskey into his mouth.

“Swallow,” I command.

His eyes flashed molten hot as he obeyed, the muscles in his throat working as he gulped it down without breaking eye contact.

He grips my thighs and stands, tossing me over his shoulder. I shriek, pounding my fists against his back, but all it does is make him chuckle darkly, the vibration of it rolling through his chest.

He carries me back to the bar, his grip punishing and possessive.

He bends me over the polished wood counter, my palms slapping flat against it, and before I could even catch my breath, his palm comes down hard on my ass.

The sharp smack echoes through the empty bar, knocking the air right out of me.

“Didn’t I tell you,” he growls, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear, “that I was gonna fuck that bad attitude right out of you?”

I glance back over my shoulder, a sly smile curling my lips. “You keep talking about it,” I taunt, “fucking do it already.”

He rips at my jeans without hesitation, tearing them down my legs with rough, determined hands. The cool air kisses my thighs, but I barely register it; I’m too focused on the pure, hungry look burning in his blue eyes.

My red lace panties are the only thing left, thin and pointless. With one swift tug, he rips them clean off, the lace snapping apart like it’s nothing.

I nearly moan at the sheer violence of it.

At this rate, I’m going to fucking run out of underwear.

His calloused hands clamp onto my hips, holding me in place, keeping me bent over the bar. His voice is a rough growl against my ear. “Now,” he rasps, “you’re gonna sit there like a good fucking girl and take it.”

The sharp sting of his hand spanking my ass sends a jolt straight through my core.

He grips the base of his cock, dragging the swollen head against my dripping entrance, teasing me mercilessly.

He thrusts into me hard, stretching me open with a single, brutal stroke.

I gasp, my nails claw at the smooth bar counter.

Carter moans, his chest brushing against my back as he presses deeper inside me.

“I’ll fucking kill anyone who even looks at you, Catalina,” he growls, his breath hot and ragged in my ear. “You fucking hear me?”

I grin, even as my body quivers under the force of him. “Am I allowed to speak, or…?”

A dark sound rumbles from his chest as he slaps his hand over my mouth, his palm rough against my skin, pinning me even more firmly against the bar.

“No, baby,” he grits out, “you’re just gonna take my cock like the good little thing you are.”

He starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into me so hard the bar creaks beneath us. I whimper against his hand, the pressure inside me building, coiling tighter with every devastating thrust.

Sweat beads on my forehead, and my vision blurs as I clutch the bar. His hips snap against my ass, claiming every inch of me. I can hear him panting, feeling the strain of his muscles caging me in.

“You feel that, darlin’?” he rasps, his mouth hot against the side of my neck. “Feel how fucking deep I am inside this sweet little pussy?”

I moan against his hand, my body starting to tremble uncontrollably.

“I feel you squeezing me, baby,” he grunts, “you gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock?”

His filthy words push me over the edge. My body seizes as my orgasm rips through me so hard it steals the air from my lungs. I scream into his hand, my walls clenching around him, milking him, refusing to let go.

“Carter!” I cry into his palm.

A dark, wicked chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That’s right, baby,” he growls, “scream my name. That’s the only fucking name that’ll ever leave these pretty lips.”

He slams into me a few more times before he follows me over the edge, groaning low in my ear as he spills deep inside of me, filling me until I can feel his cum dripping down my thighs.

Still catching his breath, he eases out of me, tugging his pants back on. He helps me stand, steadying me with those strong hands before grabbing a nearby towel, and gently cleans me up with a tenderness that doesn’t match the filthy things he just did to me.

He presses a lingering kiss to my bare shoulder, his beard scraping my skin in a way that makes me shiver all over again.

“Let’s get you home, princess,” he murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “So I can clean you up properly.”