12. Piper #2
Something rumbled low in his chest, and his hands began to wander, fingers combing their way through my hair until they reached the middle of my spine. The flat of his palm pressed against my lower back where the soaked, borrowed flannel from Emmy had ridden up.
I shuddered against him as his calloused fingertips swept the space of bare skin, our tongues twisting together. So warm .
Zeke’s hands continued their journey, up to the hem of my shirt and underneath the worn flannel that stuck to me. Gingerly, his fingers traced their way up my spine, curving around my rib cage until his large, warm hands pushed easily up and under the elastic lace of my bra to cup my breasts.
With a single upward flex of his hips, I was nearly unseated from my straddling kneel—forced at once to surrender the full pressure of my weight against him, not to mention the awareness of the massive erection straining enthusiastically against his jeans as gravity brought my hips down on him just right for the first time since we’d “tumbled” into the hay.
A throaty moan poured from my mouth to Zeke’s before I could pull it back, my slick already soaked through my panties to my jeans.
Overhead, the rain on the metal roof muffled the sounds of our pleasure and the horses nickering in their stalls.
I was about to suggest maybe we part with some of our denim when Zeke unceremoniously broke our kiss, cradled the back of my head tenderly, then flipped me onto my back on the wool blanket in a whirl of auburn hair and a flurry of hay as if it had been nothing.
The speed, power, and confidence with which he moved my entire body was exhilarating. I barely had time to appreciate the sensation before Zeke forced me to turn my attention elsewhere.
With more precision than I expected from him, Zeke undid my belt and fly before he stopped, pointedly looking me directly in the eyes.
“I would never want to be too forward, Miss Piper.” He gave me a dutiful look, his fingers slowly curling over the delicate lace waistline of my panties. “But I would also very much like to give you a taste before I give you a ride.”
“Please,” I welcomed breathlessly, overcome by the need for him, even as my nerves hummed on edge.
Zeke set to work, pulling down my jeans and soaking panties before he settled himself on his belly right there on the blanket in the hay, his face between my thighs.
I nearly jumped as I felt the soft, warm tip of his tongue trace its way up the slick folds of my pussy, its gentle pressure tracing scrolling circles and figure eights around my buzzing clit.
Instinctively, my fingers moved to Zeke’s hair—weaving into the shaggy blond strands as he lapped greedily at me, his hands cupped beneath my ass to help him lift me to his eager mouth.
I’d never been tasted like this or in a location so risky.
The thrill of it lit up my nerves, and I silently questioned how the hell I had gotten here.
Is this really happening? God, please don’t let me be dreaming.
Outside the open windows of the stables, rain came down in sheets—a fork of lightning dancing across the dark sky illuminated Zeke as he feasted on me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt the soft seeking of a tongue pressing deeper inside of me, lips closing around my clit and sucking. I wouldn’t last long like this, my breaths turning to thready gasps already.
Just as I thought that my orgasm would strike—like a bright crackle of lightning running from the sky down to the prairie—Zeke suddenly lifted onto his knees, fumbling with his belt buckle in those big, strong hands.
I scrambled to assist, reaching up to help free his cock, his impressive length underscored by a thick knot at the base.
With a stupid grin on his face, Zeke settled back into the plaid blanket in the hay, his cock standing at attention as he offered politely, “Ma’am, would you like to go for a ride ?” I nearly laughed, but that persistent need was cloying at me like an animal trapped in a cage.
What’s that saying I’ve heard in the past? “Save a horse, ride a cowboy”?
Don’t need to ask me twice.
Steadying me, Zeke’s hands found the pinch of my waist, guiding me up as I kicked one leg over him, hovering in a kneel just above his stiff cock as my slick dripped down on him from above.
“Never a bad time to get back in the saddle.” I offered him a coy wink before I began to sink down onto his length.
With my hands braced on his rippling abs, I began my ride, Zeke’s hard heat driving me mad as he lifted his hips to meet me, his knot pressing against my taut flesh desperate to be inside, my clit throbbing.
After Zeke’s earlier attention, each delicious moment of friction between our bodies sent sensations singing through me, my muscles tightening around him as he began to let out low, growling sounds of pleasure.
A loud clap of thunder shook the very frame of the stables, and the two of us let out increasingly needy sounds as I began moving faster, his length just shy of kissing my cervix.
Zeke’s hands crept from their grip on my hips to around my shoulders, guiding my body so that I softened my riding posture, and brought my chest against his.
With my breasts pressed against him, our lips locked together, and his hands fisted wildly in my hair, Zeke increased his speed.
It wasn’t long before my orgasm hit, just like that white-hot flash of electricity outside the stable window. My body was threatening to shake apart as Zeke’s knot disappeared inside me.
My eyes rolled back, and I let out an ecstatic cry as Zeke bottomed out, his knot stretching me in the most delicious of ways.
The frenzy peaked, the two of us thrusting and groaning as Zeke rushed up the edge I’d just soared from.
Each movement of his thick cock dragged out the pleasure, and I bit my lip as it overwhelmed me.
“Fuck, Pipes—you feel so good,” he managed to growl out as he spilled inside me, warm and full.
The two of us, run ragged and breathless, lay on the blanket in the hay with me pressed against Zeke’s chest, his hands hanging limply in my hair as we did our best to catch our breath in the momentary silence.
Usually, this would have been the point in time during my previous one-night stands when I began to panic—the awkward knot dissipation waiting period, the absolute height of embarrassment and regret as soon as my most primal urges were satisfied.
But Zeke just heaved a pleased sigh, his hands finding their way to my shoulders, hugging me against him as his fingers traced my bare back and fiddled with my hair.
“Just a few minutes to enjoy the sound of the rain,” he crooned, nuzzling his face against the side of mine, placing tender kisses along the column of my neck.
“Sure, just a few minutes,” I agreed with a knowing smirk, allowing my head to rest against his chest, existing to the beat of his heart and the patter of rain on the roof.