Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
BECKETT
S everal hours later, I lead Skyla to the horse barn, the final stop on the farm tour. I hang back as she immediately walks over to my horse, Maverick, and pets him on the nose.
“What’s your name?”
“That’s Maverick,” I tell her. “He’s mine.”
“How many horses do you have?”
“About ten.”
I’ve never been as fucking attracted to a woman as I am to this woman. She’s been excited all morning, asking intelligent questions about milk and processing and the animals themselves. She loves the chickens and asked if she could check for eggs whenever she was here.
I don’t think I’ll ever have it in me to ever tell her no. She can hunt for eggs all day long if it makes her happy.
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” I ask.
“When I was a girl,” she says, nodding as she rubs her hand down Maverick’s neck. “I’d be rusty. When I was under contract, I wasn’t allowed to ride or do anything that might cause an injury.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t insist that you walk around in bubble wrap.”
She snorts and wrinkles her nose, and I can’t keep away from her anymore, so I cross to her and grab her braid, loving how soft her hair feels under my palm.
“They probably would have loved that idea,” she agrees, leaning back into my touch.
“It’s sexy as fuck having you on my farm, Irish.”
She turns away from the horse and loops her arms around my waist, staring up at me with happy eyes and lips that I could lose myself in.
“I enjoy being here,” she says softly. “We should probably go back to the house and check on Riley.”
She requested that we leave the dog at the house so she didn’t have to worry about him and could fully enjoy the tour. It surprised me and made me feel good because that meant she trusted her safety with me.
“In a minute. First, I think I’ll fuck you in this barn.”
Her jaw drops, her pupils dilate, and her arms tighten around me in response.
“Don’t hate that idea, do you?”
“No, I don’t hate it,” she admits, “but someone could walk in. You have employees all over the place.”
I gave explicit instructions for everyone to steer clear of this barn for the next hour, but I don’t tell her that.
Instead, I grin down at her.
“Then you’d better be quiet, Irish.”
She hums deep in her throat as I lower my mouth to hers, her lips already open and ready for me. She purrs— fucking purrs —and grips my shirt with her fists before gliding them around to the front of my jeans, and I steal both hands in mine, then kiss them.
“If you touch me,” I growl against her neck as I keep her hands in mine between us, “I’ll lose control, and I’m doing my best to keep it together here.”
“Well, damn,” she whispers, making me grin against her skin. I nibble her pulse point and glide my tongue up to the shell of her ear.
“You smell so fucking good.”
Skyla whimpers, and it makes my cock twitch in my jeans.
“I’m going to make you come undone. I’m going to make you feel things that you never have before. Keep your hands at your sides.”
Letting her hands go, I frame her face so I can kiss her, but her sweet little hands land on my stomach, and it makes me feral.
Jesus, just one touch from this woman, and I want to wreck her in the most carnal, delicious ways. But I don’t want to send her running for the hills.
“Nope.” After having her hands removed once more, Skyla pouts, sticking out her lower lip, and I bite it. “Since you won’t follow directions, I’m going to restrain you.”
I’m staring into her lust-filled eyes to get her reaction, and she bites that pillow of a bottom lip as her eyes widen.
“If you ever want me to stop, you say so, and it immediately ends. Understand?”
“Yes, Beckett.”
Jesus fucking Christ on a stick.
My eyes slowly close as my blood heats, and I blindly reach out for a leather horse lead and guide Skyla over to a pole in the middle of the room.
“Grab the pole.”
She frowns, her eyes bouncing between me and the rough wood. “How?”
I move up behind her and let my hand drift over her hip and up her side, and she trembles under my hand. “I want you to bend over and grab that pole for me.”
“I still have my jeans on.”
Grinning against her neck, I drag my nose back and forth over her skin, making it pebble up in goose bumps.
“I don’t fucking care, Irish.”
Letting out a shaky breath, she leans forward, sticking her perfect peach of an ass out, and grabs the pole.
“I’m going to tie you there,” I inform her. “Okay?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in her breathless response, so I wrap the thin leather around her wrists in a figure eight before securing it around the pole. I check to make sure that she can’t slip out of it but also that it’s not cutting off her blood flow.
“Good girl,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her shoulder. I love that I have control of her. That I can pleasure and enjoy her until I’m ready for her to return the favor.
Her sweatshirt has ridden up, exposing the smooth flesh of her lower back, and I press wet kisses there, making her moan. Reaching around, I unfasten her jeans and work them over her ass and down her hips to mid-thigh, where I’ll leave them.
“The air feels cool,” she says, her voice thick with arousal.
“I’m going to warm you up.” I press more wet kisses over her ass cheeks on both sides, then squat behind her, spread her open, and push my face into the sweetest pussy I’ve ever fucking tasted.
“Oh feck,” she groans, her hips moving against me.
“Stay still,” I warn her and grin when she stills. I lick her from her clit to that small puckered muscle at the top and back down again. Her head hangs down, her fingertips white against the pole. “You’re already soaked for me, Irish.”
“I know. Christ Jesus, Beck, I’ve never … Oh God.” My tongue is inside her now, lapping and pushing.
“You’ve never what?”
“Felt anything like you.”
“Mmm.” Pushing one finger inside her, I suck on her hard clit, and her hips start to move again, earning her a slap on one side of her ass. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to get her attention.
Skyla gasps and tries to look back at me as I soothe the skin with my palm.
“ Beckett. ”
“I warned you to stay still,” I remind her and go back to sucking on her, feeling the rush of wetness coming from her pussy. “You’re unbelievable. So fucking beautiful. Your body was made for me.”
I stand, two fingers inside her now, so I can check in on her. She’s biting that lip, her eyes are closed, and she’s so damn gorgeous, I know I can’t hold back much longer.
Quickly, I unfasten and unzip my jeans and pull my already hard and weeping cock out, brush it up and down through her soaking wet folds, and she moans again.
“Yes,” she says over and over again. “Yes. Please.”
“I fucking love it when you ask for it.” I’m gripping her hips so tightly that there will be bruises later. I push inside her until I’m bottomed out, and we’re both moaning in pleasure. “Do you know how perfect you are?”
With a whimper, she drops her head again.
“It’s so good, Beck.”
Her voice and her tight little pussy are more than I can take. I’m pushing in and out of her so hard and fast, I’m surprised the pole doesn’t give out and make the barn collapse. Reaching up, I pull the hair tie free and loosen her hair, then fist the strands at the nape of her neck and tug, making us both groan.
“I love your hair.”
“Harder,” she whispers, surprising me.
“You want me to fuck you harder, Irish?”
“Aye, fuck me harder.” The accent is thicker with her arousal, pushing me closer to my climax. Shit, I need her to come.
With one hand still in her hair, I reach around with my other hand and press my fingertips to her clit, and she shudders around me, making my eyes roll back.
“Oh God. Beck. Fuck, just like that.”
“Come all over me, baby. Go over. Let go.”
Her entire amazing body tightens, clenching around me, and her walls ripple around my cock. Just as she’s coming down from her climax, I pull out, fist my cock, and walk around to her face.
“Open that pretty little mouth, and let me fill it up.”
Without hesitation, she follows direction and greedily wraps her gorgeous lips around the crown, sucking, and my balls lift and tighten. The next thing I know, I’m erupting inside her mouth, and she’s moaning happily, taking every last drop down her throat.
“You’re such a good girl.” My hand is fisted in the back of her hair again, but I’m not pushing hard. I don’t want to choke her.
As she’s licking my shaft, I’m untying her with one hand, and when she’s free, she immediately wraps her hands around my cock. I swear to God, I’ve died and gone to heaven.
With my knuckle under her chin, I guide her up to standing and pull her jeans up, kissing her with all I have.
“You’re incredible,” I whisper against her lips.
“I was about to say the same to you.” She’s grinning, those lust-filled eyes shining as I tuck myself back into my pants and help her fasten hers. “Well, that was a lovely way to end the tour.”
She rubs at her wrists, and I gently take them in my hands, frowning down at the red marks from the leather.
“Let’s go back to the house.” I kiss her wrists gently and pull her to me in a big hug. “I need to take care of you.”
“I believe you just did.”
I laugh at that, then kiss the top of her head. “I’ll feel better if I get you in a shower and get some salve on these marks.”
“They’re not so bad.” She stops talking when I scowl at her. “Okay. Please take care of me.”
She pushes her fingers into my beard, and I lean into her.
“You need that, don’t you?” Her voice is gentle as she scratches my whiskers, and now I’m the one who wants to purr.
“What?”
“The aftercare part.”
“Yeah, Irish.” I kiss her nose, then her lips before leading her out of the barn. “I need it.”
Just as I requested, no one is around as we head to the farmhouse. Riley’s asleep on one of his beds, but he greets us at the back door.
“I’ll let him out really quick,” Skyla says, and we wait together as the dog does his business. She makes a face. “My scalp is sweaty. I feel bad that you had your hands on it.”
“I got you that way.” I smirk at her and shake my head. “Nothing about that isn’t sexy, but we’ll get you in the shower and clean us both up.”
When Riley’s done, he lumbers back inside, and I lead Skyla upstairs. Riley lies on his bed, and I move into the bathroom to start the shower so it has time to warm.
“How do you feel?” I ask Skyla as I join her in the bedroom. I take the hem of her sweatshirt and pull it over her head.
“I’m great. You?”
“Never better.” I kiss the ball of her shoulder and continue undressing her.
“Can I touch you now?”
Smiling down at her, I nod, and she starts to pull my shirt out of my jeans, returning the favor of getting me naked. I love the fact that she knows to wait, knows to ask. I’d never demean her or take advantage of that trust. And I’ll never deny her unless I’m in the middle of drawing out her pleasure. When was the last time I found someone so sexually compatible? I doubt I have, if I’m honest.
Once our clothes are shed, we get into the shower, and I get to work.
I need to take care of her. Make sure she knows that she’s always the focus. Her needs. Her pleasure. Her satisfaction.
“You’re very good with your hands,” she says with a sigh as I rub a sudsy washcloth over her body.
“I’m touching you,” I reply, using the cloth to quickly wash myself. Then I can move on to what I really want to do. “Now, back up to the spray. I’m going to wash your hair.”
“Oh, that sounds brilliant.” She doesn’t hesitate to tip her head back to get her long red hair wet.
I take my time massaging the shampoo into her thick strands and scalp. Her hands land on my sides, anchoring her so she doesn’t wobble.
Her touch sets me on fire as if she’s branding me.
“I’m going to say it again because it’s worth repeating. You’re excellent with your hands, Beck.”
I lean down to kiss her chin, then urge her back again so I can rinse the shampoo from her hair. I repeat the process with the conditioner. It’s not easy to get all the soap out of her long and thick hair when there’s so much of it.
Once we’re both clean, I turn off the water, then grab a towel to wrap her hair in before using another to dry us both off.
“First thing’s first,” I murmur, loving the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. “I want you to put on the comfiest clothes you have with you. If you need to borrow a shirt of mine, that’s okay, too.”
“I wouldn’t pass it up.”
She pads to the bag at the end of the bed and pulls on clean underwear and some leggings, and I walk into the closet to grab her one of my old T-shirts, which, by the look of sheer joy on her gorgeous face, I’d say makes her happy. She immediately pulls it over her head and grins.
“It’s soft, and it smells like you.”
“Comfy?”
“Aye.”
“Good. Come on.” Taking her hand, I lace our fingers and lead her back into the bathroom. There’s a vanity space with a stool that I only use when Birdie’s staying the night because my niece thinks it’s fancy. I pull out the stool, and gesture for Skyla to take a seat. Then I move to the medicine cabinet and grab the ointment I need for her wrists.
“Oh, I don’t need that.” She shakes her head. “These will be gone by morning. It wasn’t that tight.”
“You’ll heal better with this.” I kiss her forehead and dab some of the ointment on my fingers, then soothe them over the small friction burns. “I’m sorry I left marks on you.”
“I’m not.” She bites that plump lower lip and grins. “Not at all. That was bloody hot.”
With a chuckle, I set the ointment aside, then tip her face up to kiss her.
“Yes, it was fucking hot. You’re not ready to run yet?”
“Why would I do that? I’d miss out on all of the sexy fun.”
I search her eyes, but I can see that she means it, so I take her shoulders in my hands and turn her to face the mirror.
It only takes me a moment to grab some earbuds and the blow-dryer, along with a comb. I tuck the earbuds in her ears, causing her to look at me with surprise.
“You should relax and listen to whatever you want. They’re paired to my phone.” I open the phone and hand it to her. “Play whatever you’re in the mood for. Music, podcasts, videos, I don’t care.”
“Beckett.” The word is quiet as she looks up at me in the mirror.
“Go ahead.” As she lowers her gaze to my phone and starts to thumb through the music app, I take her hair out of the towel and comb it through, making sure there aren’t any snags. I clip half of its weight to the top of her head, then flip on the blow-dryer to start on the bottom portion.
Skyla’s hair is thick. Heavy. And so fucking soft, I’ll enjoy every minute of drying it for her.
She must have found something she wants to listen to because she sets the phone down and sits quietly, watching me in the mirror as I carefully run my fingers through the strands, blowing it dry before I pull more sections down and continue the same steps.
I’ve never done this before. Sure, I’ve blow-dried Birdie’s hair when she’s stayed over, but I’ve never been so invested in a partner to want to blow-dry her hair. Why Skyla? What is it about this woman that has me pulling out all the stops, so keen for her to want more of me?
I’ve no idea, but I do know that I want to keep her here, and I’ve never felt that before. She’s so…perfect for me. For this farm. Not that I’ll tell her that, as I’m sure that would send her running. I’ll keep that to myself for now.
When it’s all finished, Skyla tugs the earbuds out of her ears, places them in the case, and stands. She loops her arms around me and hugs me close. I’m still watching in the mirror. She fits perfectly against me, her head not quite meeting my chin and her cheek resting just over my heart.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “That felt incredible. You can do that every week when I wash my hair if you want.”
“You wash your hair once a week?”
She nods against me. “Yep. If you want a new hobby, you’ve got it.”
I smirk and plant my lips on the top of her head, breathing her in. I fucking love that she intends to keep me around long enough to pamper her week after week. “I would love that, actually.”
She jolts back and frowns up at me.
“I was kidding. Of course, I don’t expect you to do that all the time.”
“I’ll do it anyway.” I shrug and kiss her lips. “Come on, let’s make some dinner, then cuddle up for the evening.”
“Can we watch reality TV?”
She walks out of the bathroom ahead of me, and I laugh as I follow her. “Absolutely not. What’s wrong with an action movie?”
“One action movie for every two episodes of Love is Blind .”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What is that?”
“Trust me, you’ll love it.”