Running to the Farmer (The Runaway Brides of Darling Creek #2)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Louisa

“First off, you call me Ellis. I’m not your boss.”

Technically, he is my boss, but why quibble when I’m about to have a fantastic night.

“Ellis,” I say between long, slow, wet kisses. “Ellis…when I say everything, I mean everything.”

“I’m just gonna kiss you, and we’ll see where we go from here.”

His tongue spears my mouth in a heated kiss. I know how these types of kisses go in the books that I read. Especially when both of the main characters are already mostly undressed and super horny for each other.

I let my hands roam over Ellis’s hard chest, reveling in the way he reacts with every move I make. He groans into my mouth like a man on the brink of exploding.

He pulls away from the kiss when my hand travels down his stomach. I feel like he might scold me for moving too fast.

“You smell good, Louisa. You smelled so good at the wedding I had thoughts about dragging you to the barn and doing terrible things to you.”

My hand drifts lower, to the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I doubt I would think any of those things would seem terrible to me. I have a pretty good imagination, Ellis.”

Ellis blazes a trail of kisses down my throat.

“Really? Did you imagine me backing you up against the wall and letting me taste that pussy in front of the horses?”

“Oh my god,” I breathe. “Not the horses.”

His hand on my thigh rides up underneath my nightgown, so close to my heat that his thumb brushes against the leg band of my underwear.

“Woman, I think about all kinds of ways to make you mine. You make my cock so damn hard I can barely zip my jeans.”

“Ellis, you’re crazy,” I say, half amused. Mostly, he’s got me so turned on that I’m now more animal than human.

His hand travels higher until he cups my pussy.

“I knew you were wet for me, Louisa. Your scent gets even better when you wet yourself.”

My breath catches in my throat. They say to watch out for the nice guys, but this is another level. I’ve never dreamed of a mouth this dirty.

He’s got me going crazy with need but also crazy with curiosity.

I spread a little for him, letting him stroke me over my wet underwear. My arms go up to circle his shoulders because I need him closer. I just need to let him do what he wants with me.

“What…what is it? How can you tell?”

Ellis claims my mouth with his, stroking me with his tongue like a promise of what comes later. “When you want me, there’s a tell. It’s fruity but darker. Messier. Juicier.”

As he says this, his veiny fingers press against my core, stroking up and down. He finds my clit through the thin material and rubs it with one strong knuckle.

“Oh my god, Ellis. There…don’t stop.” It’s so good I forget to breathe. A few strokes later, my lower half rides his fingers like my pussy has a mind of its own.

“Ellis,” I whine. “I think about things I shouldn’t whenever you’re close to me. The most innocent things make me feel like a whore.”

I expect him to correct me for using that word, but he turns it around. “But you’re my whore.”

My brain hates that word, but hearing it on his lips makes me even wetter.

He chuckles. “Look at you, soaking yourself when I call you names.”

“Ellis! Keep going!”

Maddeningly, he stops his massaging movements.

“Lie back and let me taste that filthy wet cunt.”

I’m barely flat on my back before Ellis kneels before me, angling me just right. He positions one of my feet on the back of the sofa and places my other leg over his shoulder.

His mouth presses against the core of me. I look down and watch as he hooks a finger around the gusset of my panties and tugs them to the side.

I am tight with anticipation of what comes next.

I’ve read about these scenarios dozens of times. Maybe hundreds. I knew it would be delicious.

But I had no idea that first touch of his wet, sexy mouth on my overheated pussy would exceed all expectations. I might rocket into orbit as his slick tongue burrows between my folds.

Ellis lets out a long, strangled groan, the sounds vibrating against my sensitive skin.

“Fuck me, Louisa. Look what you do to me.”

There’s no way anything I’m doing to him could be any more intense than the riot of sensations exploding all over my body just from his lips, his tongue and his nose rooting around in my most private space. The source of a woman’s temptation.

If my pussy is the birthplace of sin, then so is this sweet farm boy’s filthy mouth.

If I’m going to hell, I’m arriving on the beautiful stallion between my thighs.

His muscular shoulders shudder underneath me.

I’m ready to make him stop, to make sure he’s okay. But Ellis’s mouth is relentless, claiming every needy inch of me.