22. Duke
DUKE
With her taste on my tongue and her scent in my nostrils, I nearly came in my pants.
Her chest is flushed as she nods.
I rise to stand, my erection straining against my sweats. I scoop her up off the counter and walk her toward my bedroom.
She presses her head up against mine, still trying to catch her breath. I know this is a temporary thing, to help distract her from her shitty circumstances, but damn if I don’t want it to end anytime soon.
I’ve had plenty of flings. I’ve never felt this way about a single one.
I walk through the door to my bedroom and toss her onto the bed. She peers up at me, her green eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. The shape of her body resembles a Greek goddess. The wide hips, narrow waist, and full breasts are the perfect combination to bring a man to his knees.
She has a few faint stretch marks on her stomach above a three-inch scar.
I’m assuming it’s from having a C-section when she gave birth to the twins.
All it does is remind me of how strong and selfless she is, how capable of a mother she is.
How attractive it is that she puts her boys first, ahead of her own needs, every single day.
I want to show her what it’s like to be put first. I’m starting to wonder if she’s ever experienced it before.
“Take off your shirt.”
She peels the cropped white tank top off, her breasts tumbling out. My dick pulses at the sight.
“You’re a goddess. You know that?”
She licks her lips, shaking her head.
“When you’re in my bed, you are. You understand me?”
She just stares at me, wide-eyed. I wait patiently, staring back at her.
She finally nods.
“Say it.”
“I’m a goddess,” she whispers.
I’ll let that be good enough—for now. I peel down my sweatpants, my erection springing free. She licks her lips, and, damn, I’d love to feel them wrapped around me.
But tonight is about Dallas.
I move over to the nightstand and open the drawer to grab a condom. She told me she’s on birth control, but I want to make sure she knows I’m taking care of her.
I crawl onto the king-size bed, over to where she is in the center of it. The lamp light is casting a warm glow around her.
I tear open the condom wrapper with my teeth and roll it over my dick. She watches every movement, waiting like a good girl.
“How do you want it tonight?”
She licks her lips before answering, “Rough.” Her voice is hoarse.
I nod, grabbing her ankle and pulling her toward me. If she wants me to be rough, I’ll be whatever she needs.
I fist my erection and rub it around her slick entrance. She lies back against the bed, looking like a pretty painting, ready to be wrecked by me. I lean over her, placing my hand on the mattress behind her.
“I need you to remember that you can tell me to stop anytime, but for the next ten to fifteen minutes, it’s gonna seem like I don’t treasure you like the precious woman that you are.”
Her mouth gapes open as I shove inside her with one thrust. She gasps, gripping the side of my arm.
I pull back out, thrusting inside again.
She feels like the best dream I’ve ever had with her pussy wrapped tightly around my cock.
I reach over to wrap my hand around her throat. I don’t put any pressure yet.
Her emerald eyes stay locked on mine, legs wrapped around my waist. The pace I set is relentless.
“You’re taking me so damn good, darlin’.”
She whimpers, her pretty pink lips trembling.
“I’ve been thinking about how you’d look under me for so long. My imagination didn’t do it justice.”
Her tits are bouncing with each thrust. I apply light pressure with my fingers, testing it out. She moans, her eyes drifting shut.
“Right there,” she pants.
I keep up the pace, watching her face to determine how she’s taking it.
She fucking loves it … until she doesn’t.
I sense the change in her as soon as her body stills. Her eyes grow distant, like she’s not there in that moment with me anymore.
I release her neck, instantly stopping my movement and studying her face.
“Are you with me?”
She blinks, opening her mouth, but no sound comes out.
I pull out, laying beside her.
“I’m right here.” I grab her hand, trying to slow my panting from the exertion while making sure she’s not about to have another panic attack.
She gulps, shutting her eyes as a tear slips out of the corner of one.
“Hey, hey, baby. You’re safe here. You’re with me, and we can be done right now if that’s what you need.”
She shakes her head, still not moving. She tightens her grip on my hand.
“I just—I just need—”
I wait for her to answer, but she’s closed her eyes and doesn’t keep speaking. After a solid minute laying there with her, her eyelids flutter back open. She twists to face me, determination in her gaze.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
My gut clenches. “Dallas, we can stop. You don’t have to keep going if it’s too much tonight. Shit, was it the neck? I shouldn’t have—”
“No! It wasn’t you. I have … intimacy is triggering for me, sometimes. You stopping, it helped me. I’m okay now. I need to keep going. Please. I’m not fragile. You won’t break me.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she lays back down and opens her legs wide, pulling me back on top of her.
“Duke. I need this,” she whispers into my ear. “Don’t be gentle.”
Fuck. How can she ask that of me right now?
I reach down, rubbing my hand over my dick, trying to get the erection back. She waits, watching me. Finally, I’m ready to keep going. I’m scared shitless she’s going to panic again, so I start out slow.
I ease into her. She sighs, offering me a smile of encouragement.
“That feels good.”
I move slowly, almost painfully so, until she squeezes my shoulder.
“You can go faster now. I’m okay.”
I increase the pace, pressing my hand to the mattress to brace myself above her. She scrapes her nails over my arms, whimpering.
“You are so hot. I love the way you fuck me.”
I grin at her, loving the filthy mouth she’s suddenly developed. My orgasm is approaching quickly, embarrassingly so. I usually have no problem lasting longer than this. I pull out, grabbing her hips.
Her eyes fly open when I twist her around to her stomach and jerk her ass back toward me.
I find her entrance again and slide back inside. Taking in the way her ass cheeks spread around my dick makes me wonder why I thought flipping her around would make it easier for me not to come too fast.
She arches her back into me. I groan, trying to hold back. I’m dangerously close to finishing.
“Holy fuck, your body.”
She presses the side of her face into the mattress. I drive my hips against her ass, watching the way it jiggles with each thrust. I’m mesmerized by her. The slim cut of her waist looks so erotic compared to the width of her hips. My hand comes down to spank her—hard.
She yelps, squeezing my dick with her pussy lips.
I do it again, right on top of the pink mark of my hand.
She screams this time, and I feel her coming around my dick.
I can’t hold back another second. My release shoots out, and I reach forward to grab her hips and hold her against me.
A tsunami of pleasure crashes through me.
I feel her in every nerve ending, her sweet cunt milking every drop from me. She moans into the bed.
Finally, I return to reality. I’m still inside her, half hard now. She’s limp on the bed, so I slowly pull out, watching for any signs that she’s nearing a state of panic again.
She collapses the rest of the way down onto the covers we didn’t bother pulling back. I stand up and remove the condom, throwing it in the bathroom trash. I get a clean washcloth and dampen it with warm water.
I return to the bedroom and gently clean up between her legs. She shifts, allowing me access, smiling lazily.
I like the sight of my red handprint on her skin way too much. I grab a throw blanket and pull it over her naked body before lying beside her, rubbing my hand over her arm.
Her eyes are closed, and she’s already half asleep.
“You okay, darlin’? You need anything?”
“Mmm, I should check on the boys …”
“I’ll do it. Go to sleep.”
I grab one of my pillows and lift her head to tuck it underneath her cheek. She sighs.
“Thank you … for stopping when I needed a break.”
I want to tell her that she shouldn’t thank me for that, because the alternative would be fucked up, but I don’t want to get into that conversation right now, because I have a feeling it’s going to involve hearing about what her shit head ex-husband did to her.
I press a kiss to her ear before climbing off the bed. I pull my sweatpants on and walk out into the quiet hallway.
I peek in on the twins, seeing their sweet little faces fast asleep. Dawson has a protective arm slung over Dutton.
My chest does this weird squeezing thing. I walk back to the bedroom, wondering what the hell that’s about.
These aren’t my kids. They’re hers, but for some reason, I’m finding myself worrying about them.
It’s disconcerting, especially when we’ve both said we want to be friends.
I slide into bed beside her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her up against me. She’s asleep now, her even breaths coming in short little puffs.
I close my eyes, trying to find rest, but I’m wide awake. I want to fix this. I want to make it go away for her.
But there’s really only one way I could make that happen, and if I did that, I don’t know if her or the boys would ever forgive me.
The next day, we repeat the same pattern.
I do ranch work close to the house, Dallas plays with the boys outside, and at night, we have rough sex.
She needs a short break, but insists I keep going after a few minutes.
I feel like shit about it, but she insists it’s helping her overcome the trauma.
She falls asleep immediately after, and again, I don’t ask about what happened in her marital bed to make her have a panic attack every time we have sex.
When her parents get into town the following day, she starts staying in the bunkhouse with Eden. I don’t question why, but I’m disappointed she’s not with me.
I know she’s meeting with her lawyer and trying to figure out what her next steps should be. I don’t want to hover, but I’ve tried to make it clear that I’m here for her if she needs me.
I try to keep myself busy. One of our cows gets stuck during birth, and I have to pull the calf out of her. I was too late, and the calf is already dead. The mama might die, too, but I bring her food and water to see if she can survive, lying where she is in the field.
Holden texts me to let me know he’s taking care of a clogged watering hole and overseeing a group of the ranch hands moving some cattle to a new field where the grass has grown long enough to eat. I don’t talk to anyone.
After three days, I finally work up the courage to go knock on the door of the bunkhouse after work. I’m still dirty from moving some hay bales out in the field, but I can’t wait any longer.
Eden answers the door. She smiles warmly at me, her baby belly sticking out as she stands there, the wind blowing her wispy golden hair around her face.
“Hey, Duke.”
“Hey, Eden. Is Dallas here?”
“She’s getting ready.”
“Oh. Ready for what?”
She frowns. “She said she had a date.”
My throat suddenly feels tight. I step back when I see Dallas walking toward the door. She’s dressed in a pretty purple sundress and sandals. Her curly blond hair is loose around her shoulders. She’s gorgeous, as always, her pink lips shimmery with lip gloss.
When her eyes meet mine, she stops, blinking. “Hey. What’s up?”
Eden steps aside, moving into the kitchen. Dallas walks out onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. Her jasmine-and-vanilla scent reaches me, and I try not to inhale.
“I just came to check on you. See what’s happening, if the boys are good.”
She nods, but her eyes grow sad. “They’re with my parents.”
“Cool.”
“I’m, uh … my ex hired a lawyer.”
I grit my teeth. “Did he?”
“Yeah, it’s looking like we’ll be going to court to fight this out. He’s not agreeing to anything I want, so …”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Dallas.”
“It sucks. It’s going to take a while, and I just … I’m trying to cope.”
I think about her lying in my bed a few nights ago, begging for me to go harder, to be rougher. I wonder if I should’ve said no, but I also knew she needed it.
Was it wrong of me to sleep with her when she was in this state?
Guilt eats my insides.
“Is there anything else I can do?”
She shakes her head. “No. You’ve been a good friend, Duke.”
I try to ignore the sting of that word—friend.
“I talked to Rosie about the rent. She said I can use the money for the lawyer, but I swear I’ll pay it back. I—”
“I don’t want any money from you. I just want to know what I can do to help you through this.”
Her eyes soften. She reaches for my hand, sliding hers into mine.
“What I need right now is a friend, okay? This is going to be an ugly, messy fight. You’re young; you don’t need to be dragged into it any more than you already have.
You could get anyone, Duke. You should find some girl fresh out of college, who wants to live on the ranch and give you four of your own babies. Like Holden and Rosie.”
Her eyes say what her words don’t. She doesn’t want me to get involved in her mess. She wants me to move on. To find a wholesome, less-damaged woman to love and commit to.
I open my mouth to tell her that’s not what I want, but the sound of tires on the gravel behind me draws my attention away.
I turn to see a shiny black Denali truck pulling up. The driver’s door opens, and the gray-haired man from the bar steps out.
He’s wearing a black cowboy hat, a nice button-down tucked into his jeans, and snakeskin cowboy boots. He looks like a wealthy, self-assured older man, probably with a 401(k) and at least one ex-wife. He approaches the porch and stops at the steps.
He smiles at Dallas before his eyes flicker over me. “Is now a bad time?”
“No. Not at all. I was just discussing my rent with Duke. This is his family’s property.” Dallas steps down to where he is.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
He leads her over to the passenger side of the truck, and I feel like my chest is caving in.