SABRINA
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It’s bedtime. The sleeping bags smell very fresh-out-of-the-box, like plastic wrapping.
They’re comfortable, though, with some kind of built-in foam that’s the closest a sleeping bag could get to a real bed.
I appreciate that, because I don’t have much experience with camping other than on the ranch occasionally.
He’s out putting out the fire, and I roll onto my side, facing the far wall.
He’s not even in the tent, and I’m practically vibrating with tension.
His boots crunch on the platform, the truck door opens and slams, and then his footfalls come back.
Zip—God, he’s in the tent, zipping it back up.
His breathing, almost silent, has my spine tingling.
Then, I hear his clothes come off, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t know why.
Rustling… He’s in the sleeping bag beside me.
I can’t take it anymore. I roll over to my back at the same moment as he leans over me.
His hand slides beneath the sleeping bag, across my stomach, and grips my waist. Heat floods my body, pent up from the entire day with him, and my lips part as his mouth comes down on them.
We both moan. His tongue curls against the tip of mine.
Desire surges so hard in my hips, they rise, desperate for his touch.
He pulls back. “You taste so fucking good.”
“So do you,” I breathe.
His mouth dips to my collarbones, to the sensitive skin between them. I’m so tired from the day, but I don’t feel any of it now. His hand drags down and slips into my sleep shorts. No, I think I could stay up all night—if he can go that long.
“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” he rasps.
My thighs fall open. Overhead, there’s a faint sound like a rush, then gentle rain across the top of the tent. Neither of us bother with it.
He’s circling my clit with two fingers, slowly, then with rising intensity.
Pleasure rises in a hot, driving itch that I couldn’t deny even if I wanted.
He dips down, mouth brushing mine, but not giving me his tongue the way I need.
It’s a soft curl of heat alongside the taste of him, mingled with the gentle pressure of his fingers.
“Oh God,” I gasp.
My body rises, spine curving.
“Let it out for me, baby.” His voice is a faint rumble, somewhere distantly below me. “That’s my girl. Come on my hand.”
I never imagined the day he showed up at the ranch that he was like this in private.
He’s so reserved…with his clothes on, anyway.
As I waver somewhere on the ceiling, riding waves of pleasure, it occurs to me that I need this badly.
All of it, not just the sex, but very much the sex.
Every time he makes me come, it’s like the taut strings that have been holding me together for so long come a little looser.
I catch my breath. “Please,” I whisper.
His mouth drags over my neck, kissing lower until his lips are grazing just above my left nipple.
My body doesn’t know if I want him to use his talents on my breasts or to tangle my fingers in his hair and push him down between my thighs.
He picks for me, opening his mouth and curling his tongue around my nipple.
I whimper, and he sucks gently, flicking the tip.
My nails rake over his shoulder. He moves to the other nipple, hard as it can get, and nips at it with his teeth.
So gentle, but I’m so sensitive, I cry out.
“You like that?” He curls his tongue around it.
“Yes, don’t stop.”
He pulls up the hand that was just inside me and grips my breast, gathering it and pushing as much as he can into his mouth.
The sensation goes hard and fast to my pussy, and now all I can think about is having him inside me again.
Nothing feels like him. I’ve tried using my fingers or the vibrator I keep in my nightstand at home.
“Please,” I whisper again.
He lifts his head. “You begging for sex, baby?”
Face flushed, I nod.
“How about I give you a little head first?”
I’m dying, but I don’t think that was a question. My body reacts as he slides over me and kisses my sternum.
My hips rise and rub against his chest.
“God, it gets me so hard when you want it,” he says, kissing lower. His tongue drags around my navel.
“I want it,” I pant. “Please.”
He groans in his chest and dips his head between my thighs.
His tongue is hot as it drags over me. My head spins, and my thighs clamp down over his ears.
I know he likes that, because he groans again, shoving his face in hard and pushing his tongue into my pussy.
He eats pussy like he loves it. That’s an improvement on the last couple of guys.
He drags his tongue up, flicks my clit, then spits on my pussy. I gasp, and it turns into a moan as he pushes two fingers inside and flips his hand.
Oh God, here it comes.
He works them, easing up my pussy until I’m not clamping down as hard on him.
Eyes on me, he drops his mouth to my clit and starts in on it like we’re running out of time.
Distantly, I realize that even if this all comes to nothing, I’ll remember this week as the time when I came so hard, my ears rang.
My hand shoves into his hair and pushes his face down.
He groans and his body shudders, but he doesn’t stop.
“Oh,” I breathe out as pleasure ebbs.
He goes still and then lifts his head.
“Fuck me,” I beg, drunk on him.
He moves over me, kissing up between my breasts, mouth grazing mine. “Do you want the truth?”
I blink. “Yeah?”
“Give me a second to recharge, and I will.”
It takes a second for that to click, and then I bite my lip hard and fail at holding back a smile.
“You—”
“Yeah, I did. That doesn’t usually happen, but you know, I like that pussy, baby.”
If he was embarrassed by coming in his pants from eating me out, he really shouldn’t be. It’s incredibly flattering. I scrape my nails up the back of his neck and pull him in, locking my ankles around the backs of his thighs.
“We can always go again.”
“Yeah,” he says with conviction. “I mean to.”
He kisses me, his hips rocking into me for another moment.
Then, he untangles himself and says he needs to get cleaned up.
I lie on my side and wait for him in a delicious haze.
His shoes crunch on the gravel. He’s gone for a bit, and the truck door slams, before he comes back in nothing but a pair of gray sweats. Perfect choice.
He zips the tent and stretches out beside me.
“Flip over, back to me,” he murmurs.
His hands are already on me, turning and pulling me back into his chest. Warm kisses press into the nape of my neck. I shiver and nudge my ass back into his groin. As far as I can tell, he is raring to go again.
“Now you can fuck me,” I say.
He laughs, reaching between us and pushing down his sweats, just low enough to release his hard, hot length. It feels like it takes forever for him to retrieve a condom and roll it on. Impatient, I arch my spine, and he finally guides himself into me, pushing deep and forcing a gasp from my lips.
I love this, especially with his forearm locked around me and his mouth in my hair.
Here, in this tent, in the middle of nowhere, we fuck like we mean something.