Chapter 19 – “Save a Horse （Ride a Cowboy）” — Big & Rich #2
“I love how vulnerable you are. You can’t stop me when I kneel between your legs and slide two fingers inside you.
You’re soaking wet. You can’t deny that you want me to fuck you like this.
Your body tells the truth.” I tease the head of my cock until I’m gasping and stop.
“But, babe, I’m just getting started. I’m going to make you mine. ”
I tell her all the things I’ve imagined doing to make her secret fantasies come to life and how helpless she’ll feel when I take charge. She moans, no longer hiding what she’s doing. “Be my hands. Pinch your nipples, tease them, and pluck at them and roll them between your fingers.”
I’d love to hear her admit that she’s turned on too, but the sounds she is making are enough to give me the complete picture. She moans, louder this time, telling me that she, finally, is in this with me. We are sharing this. Together. Finally.
“Spread your legs. Wider, love. Show me that you want this.” Her bedding makes a loud rush of sound, and I imagine her flinging the covers off in frustration as her skin gets more sensitive.
More moans, louder now. “That’s it. A little more, sweetheart.
Tease your clit. Touch yourself and think about how I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.
” She’s quieter than in my fantasies. It’s small sounds that tell the story, a whimper filling in the details, and I tingle with delight.
She’s in this, letting me take charge for once, and the struggle to maintain control is real, my hands shaking, my eyes closed as I strain to hear every tiny whimper from her.
“I lace my fingers with yours, hold your arms above your head, while I grind hard against you, my thigh between your legs while I kiss you. You keep trying to rock your hips against me to get more pressure, so I tease your clit with one finger before I slide two back inside you.”
She has to want this, or I’ll stop. She’s too quiet now. I believe her when she says she wants this in the larger sense. What I need to know is that she wants it with me. Today. I’m silent, suddenly worried I’ve staggered down the wrong path when she audibly sighs.
She’s silent, and I’m afraid to continue.
The quiet lengthens and extends until I’m holding back a plea for forgiveness, for overstepping, for pushing into her real world where I don’t belong.
She draws a deep and ragged breath, her voice wrecked when she whispers my name.
I’m stunned, pleasure hitting me everywhere at once, a hard squeeze of lust and longing wrapping around me.
“Please, Henry, please don’t stop. I need you.”
Yes. Yes.
“Kait, my Kait, I’m going to fuck you so hard,” I say. And I’m going to do it the way she says she wants it.
“Henryyyyy.” I’m going to remember that sound for the rest of my life.
I was hard; now I’m rigid. I resist the urge to stroke my cock, too close to risk it. A drop slowly trickles down my shaft just to make it that much harder to resist the siren’s call. The territorial beast in me is thrilled she’s wrapped in bedding I provide.
I tell her everything, painting the picture of how I’ll love and use her body.
Where my tongue will taste, how my lips will brush her heated skin, how her straining against my hold is an erotic temptation, how her hair feels wrapped around my hand, keeping her snug in place.
“I love how being manhandled makes you wet.”
I whisper about fingertip marks and how she’s going to be sore if I lose the last of my restraint. I’m drawing out the tease with words like she does when I’m ravenous for her.
“You can stop this, Kait. You can put an end to the torment. I’ll give you every inch of my cock. I’ll slam it into you. I’ll fuck you with all the power I have. All you have to do is open your eyes, baby, look at me, and say it’s me you want.”
She’s panting and whimpering, but at those words, she lets out a groan that nearly ends me. The chokehold I place on the base of my shaft holds me back.
“It’s my turn, Kait.”
She’s not hiding it anymore, but I’m the one who’s wrecked because she’s saying the things I need, breathless words broken apart by her pleasure.
“I want you… so fucking much, Henry. I need you.” Her words are punctuated by her inhalations. “It’s always you, so perfect for me. Please talk to me. I’m so close.”
“You know I can’t resist you. I need you too fucking much. I can’t ease in. I have to slam in. I can’t hold back when it’s you.”
She’s louder now.
“Oh fuck.” Her voice is husky and raw with pleasure. “Henry. Henryyy.”
I have no idea what she’s saying, her words a jumble of whispered sounds and moaning, mixed with hard gasps. She said she wanted to hear me, but I can barely think, let alone speak. I absently realize I’m stroking myself to the beat of her heaving breaths.
“You’re so tight around me. I love how wet you are for me when I finally slide into you.
” I can’t catch my breath. I strain to say, “I want to come inside you, Kait. I want to pin you down and fuck you so hard you’re screaming.
I need you filled with me.” Sparks burn through me, spreading out of control, rampaging like my blood is gasoline for her fire.
I have never experienced need like I do with Kait.
I’ve never dared say it or even think it, but the idea of finishing in her shreds the tattered remains of control I have left. I meant to play it cool, to go slow so she would go first, but I’m helpless to slow down.
It’s a chain reaction, my gasps followed by her cries of pleasure. Each ragged whimper from her makes it harder to hold back. I’m trying to last, but she is lighting me up like a jet engine.
She’s gone quiet but not still, her linens revealing her frenetic movements.
Kait’s holding her breath as tremors rack my body, and it takes every bit of stubborn willpower I’ve ever possessed to hold on until she cries out, coming to the sound of my voice, and I listen, trying to commit every note, every whisper, every bit of her ecstasy to memory until the dam breaks and I’m lost.
Blindsided, I erupt. I get no warning as sensation rockets down my spine, and I shudder as the most intense orgasm of my life crashes into me, pulling her name from me. Seconds seem like eons as she gets louder: more cum in my fist, shivering as I shake with the intensity.
I’ve maxed out on bliss until she says my name as she comes.
Taking care of her is even more potent than being the recipient of all her attention. Mostly me whispering about how wonderful she is and all of the ways I adore her. I imagine her smiling as she goes to sleep mumbling something about cowboys, sated and adored.
“Kait, you are amazing.” You make me feel things I shouldn’t feel. You make me want things I shouldn’t want. “I am so thankful I found you.”
I reach over and touch my lamp to make sure she wakes up knowing I’m thinking of her.
I murmur soft words of praise and affection, telling her how much I adore her and how amazing it was to hear her get off. I do adore her. She means the world to me, and that feeling intensifies every day.
“God, Henry, that was amazing,” she says in a satiated purr. “If I had known you were so talented, I wouldn’t have waited nearly so long to enjoy myself along with you.” There’s a tiny giggle from the other end of the line, followed by a big yawn. “Damn, Henry. Damn.”
I can’t believe we just did that. It’s been months of me being satisfied while she instructs and encourages; she’s never so much as hinted at getting off together. She’s been quite open about the fact that she’s never once gotten off at work.
Maybe the crazy thoughts I have about me and Kait becoming “we” or “us” aren’t so outlandish after all. Maybe she has them too.
“That was beyond amazing,” Kait mumbles, her words slurred with pleasure and fatigue. “We should take a nap together. I’ll be the little spoon. Wouldn’t that just be the best thing ever, Henry Benedict?”
Not getting off with callers was, she said months ago, such an obvious thing that she wouldn’t waste her time making it one of her rules.
There’s no doubt in my mind that she could fake a scorching orgasm, but I’m equally sure we just shared something real.
Something more than an exchange of sexual favors for money.
And maybe it has been since the beginning.
I think it, I believe it, but I’m still left with the nagging idea that my judgment is compromised.
I rarely think about the money; I only think about getting more time with her.
When I’m not talking to her, I’m thinking about her.
“Yes, sweetheart, it would be amazing,” I say, and my stomach clenches just like it does when I stroke for her, but this is something different. “I’d love to snuggle with you.”
Sleep next to you, breathe next to you, pull you close, and wrap my arms around you.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts. Insanity. I should assume she was acting, but what I just heard was the real deal, or I’ll eat my sock.
At least one thing is clear. I’m never going to Nashville. The chances of hearing “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” in public are too high, and I’ll be humiliated—it gives me a raging hard-on these days.
I hang up after her words get soft and slurred, then go silent. I’m conflicted, but I want to linger, and listen to her soft breaths as she sleeps while I wish she were mine.