Page 129 of Wrangled

I couldn’t maintain this pace any longer. I picked up speed, and the wet sound of my cock filling him over and over was so fucking erotic. “Oh, God, listen to that.”

“Sir… please…” The entreaty in Robert’s eyes unraveled me, and I nodded.

“Touch yourself.”

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking shaft, and tugged on it as I rocked into him, ready to send both of us over the edge. All too soon, I shot my load deep inside him, and seconds later he came too, more cum than I’d seen in all our encounters.

I buried my face in his neck with a groan, my cock throbbing as I spilled into him, his arms locked around my neck as he clung to me, shaking, gasping, lost in his own explosive orgasm. And when we were both done, I lay on him, his legs caging my waist, and we kissed, the heat receding, my sweat chilling in the breeze.

Oh Lord, that was…

I gazed into his eyes. “That was epic.” Except the words felt cheap.

It had been amazing, veering away from a magnificent fuck into far more complex territory, leaving me a little lost and dazed.

He chuckled. “I think I’m getting too old for fucking on the ground, even with a blanket.” He winced.

I helped him to sit, then shifted position to sit behind him, leaning against the solid warm rock, his head against my shoulder, my legs holding him, one arm around his front across his collarbones, the other across his chest, my hand over his heart.

It was perfect. I cradled him, listening to his breathing as it slipped back into his normal rhythm, feeling his heart beating. I brushed my lips against his ear.

“So… do you think they heard that?”

Robert laughed, and it vibrated through him.

I figured that was a yes.

Supper was over, the sun had set, and everyone was seated around the campfires. Walt had brought along a guitar, and was strumming it softly. The others stared into the firelight, some deep in thought, others talking quietly.

Robert sat beside me, lost in his own contemplation. Unseen by the others, I took his hand in mine, and he gazed at me, lips parted. I smiled and tightened my fingers around his.

Then we heard it, the mournful cries I recognized instantly.

Teague moved swiftly, sending out four hands armed with rifles. Robert didn’t shift from my side. I heard the sound of hooves as the riders headed out, and a while later, a few shots rang.

About fifteen minutes after that, Teague and one of the hands returned.

“We’ve routed them,” he told Robert. “Kyle, Owen, and Declan are keeping watch, in case they return.” He rejoined us around the fire.

I glanced at the faces lit up by the firelight. “Where’s Garrett?”

Butch chuckled. “Asleep. I think the last three days wore him out.”

“Hey, he did good,” Zeeb remonstrated. “He’s a helluva lot more confident than he was when he first came to Salvation.”

“I agree.” I smiled at Zeeb. “And most of that is down to you.”

“I second that,” Teague added.

“Me too,” Robert said with a smile. “You did a really good job.”

Zeeb’s eyes lit up and his face glowed.

Matt got up from his camping chair and went over to the chuckwagon to bring us a fresh pot of coffee. When he’d refilled the cups, he sat down.

I gazed at the men sitting around the fire. It had only been two weeks—well, almost—but I felt as if I knew them so well.

Robert’s family.