Chapter 47 #2
I chuckle. “I did most of my degree by distance learning. I wouldn’t know anyone, and the pomp and circumstance aren’t important to me. We can have a celebration at the ranch when my diploma comes in the mail.”
“If you’re sure, doll, because everyone would make the trip in a heartbeat,” Connor assures me. And they would. I’m so blessed to have found such a loving family.
“I have something to tell you too,” he says, surprising me. I shimmy my shoulders, excited for his news.
“I finished my farrier program. My mentor oversaw my final shoeing assessment and passed me on the spot. Looks like we’ll be checking the mail for two important pieces of paper.” His smile could melt the sun, I swear.
I cradle his face, his beard tickling my palms, chocolate eyes gleaming with pride.
“I’m so proud of you, Connor. The past nine months were a whirlwind. Everything in our lives has changed for the better.”
A tear escapes and I catch it with my thumb before it trails into his beard.
“We fucking did it, baby. We made all our dreams come true,” he says resolutely.
Our lips meet in a tender kiss, joy and relief flowing between us.
The kiss heats slowly, a lick leads to a nibble, until his tongue is sweeping into my mouth, making my head spin.
He breaks our kiss to trail his swollen lips down my jaw to devour my neck.
I tip my head back giving myself over to him, basking in his attention.
I couldn’t care less we’re on the stable floor.
It’s moments like this, where no words are required, his soul speaks to mine in a language we’ve known since he found me sitting in the dirt in my pretty yellow dress.
“Fuck, baby. If you don’t stop grinding that sweet little pussy on me, we’re going to have a problem.”
I didn’t realize I’d been humping him, but the warm tingle in my clit tells me he’s right.
“We wouldn’t want you to have a problem, would we?” I taunt, sliding my hand between us to cup his erection through his Wranglers.
“Please, baby,” he groans. “If I get to come, please let me blow my load in your cunt. Please,” Connor begs incoherently as I jerk him from outside his jeans.
I take his cowboy hat from his head and place it on my own.
“You gonna give me a ride, cowboy?”
His hands bite into the soft flesh at my waist and I relish the sting. I love that I can unravel this man so easily. I’ve come into my sexuality since we became intimate. I’m on his dick as often as possible. It’s become a basic need like food, water, and shelter.
Connor buried inside me is a necessity.
“You want me to ride you, baby?” He rolls his hips into me from his seated position on the stall floor. “I’ll ride you hard and put you away wet like the horses. That what you want?”
I’m panting, desperate for exactly that.
I lean in, lips grazing his ear, and whisper, “What I want, is for my husband to fuck me.”
No other words are needed because Connor hoists us off the ground using superhero strength and slides me down his front, his cock pressing into me the whole way.
“Turn around,” he growls. I immediately obey because holy shit I love it when he unleashes like this.
He smacks my ass so hard I yelp, and grabs me by the back of the neck, marching me towards the back of the stall. He takes my hands and presses them into the cool wood.
“Don’t move.”
Being blind to what he’s doing drives me wild, and he knows it. His rough hands unbutton my Wranglers, unzipping them slowly before slipping his hand into the tight denim to cup my pussy. A whimper of desperation escapes me, needing more of his touch.
His hand’s gone too soon, and he focuses on wrenching the tight denim down my ass and hips. The fabric chafes my sweaty body, and as soon as enough flesh is exposed for his liking, he grips my nape again.
“Bend over.”
Oh. My. God. I love when he takes charge, letting go of control and giving my body and my pleasure over to him completely. I hinge at the waist, arching my back, my hands sliding down the wall to support my new position.
His boots shuffle back, and I imagine he’s admiring the view, or checking to make sure no one’s coming. Arousal floods my pussy at the possibility of getting caught. I’m so turned on it hadn’t crossed my mind until now.
He draws closer to me, a hand trailing beneath my sweat-soaked shirt under my coat. The fact I’m nearly dressed makes this so much hotter. He won’t be able to play with my tits but I’m sure he’ll make it up to me with his cock.
“This. Ass,” he growls, smacking each side of my ass in rapid succession.
“Fuck, you look so good tattooed with my handprint, dollface.” I shiver at the endearing nickname amidst the filth.
He ruts his jean-covered cock between my ass cheeks and I back into the rough sensation.
“So eager. My little wife needs to be fucked, doesn’t she?” His question nearly drowned out by my desperate mewls.
“How wet are you, baby?” He doesn’t give me the chance to answer.
Instead, he pulls my thong down to see for himself. Cold air hits my bare pussy, and I shiver. It immediately cools the arousal stretching from my pussy to my thong.
“Fuuuuuck, doll, you’re soaked. This all for me?” I whimper desperately. “Damn right it is. This cunt knows who it belongs to. Knows I’ll always give it what it needs.”
Jeans tight around my thighs, body bent forward, the pose is obscene, and I love it. I love being whatever he needs. My thighs are pressed together, and I already know it’s going to be a tight fit for him to get inside me.
His belt buckle clangs as he fumbles to get it open one handed, his touch never leaving my body. A flick of a button and zipper being pulled down echo in the silent stables, seeming far louder than they are.
The low, steady rustle of his calloused hand pumping his cock floods my pussy. Arousal drips down my leg and I flush from the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.
The broad head of his cock pushes between my thighs to my soaked entrance.
“Jesus fuck, your cunt’s gonna be so fucking tight. I’m not gonna last,” Connor growls, pushing into me inch by inch.
I’m so wet there’s no need for him to prep me with his fingers. The friction around my entrance burns, intensifying the pleasure, and the immediate fullness aches deep inside me.
His fist wraps around my braid, jerking my head up from lolling between my shoulders.
He doesn’t ease me into it. His thrusts are hard and fast from the jump.
“This. Cunt. Fuck. Always so ready for your husband’s fat cock.” Connor’s jacket scratches the top of my ass, his belt buckle smacking against my leg.
“Always. Please, Connor. Please fuck me,” I beg.
“Gonna pump you so full of cum it drips out of you the rest of the day. Gonna nut so deep in your pussy we give your IUD a run for its money.”
Oh my god, why is that so hot? That shouldn’t be so hot. We don’t even want kids—aren’t anywhere near ready—but the thought of it slickens his thrusts. He’s fucking me so hard I can’t breathe let alone speak.
“Your cunt just gripped me so hard, dollface. You like that? You like the idea of me filling this pussy with cum—desperate for me to breed you?” I whimper and push back into his thrusts.
“Because I fucking love it. I’m gonna blow hot cum right into your cervix, baby. Now make yourself come. Flick that clit, baby. I’m close. Fuck,” he groans, holding his orgasm back.
I reach between my legs, the fit’s impossibly tight but I manage to glide two fingers against the hood of my clit like a “V”.
“You’re gripping me so tight. Fuck. Fucking come!” he barks, snapping his hips forward one last time and spilling deep inside me.
I don’t know if it’s his hot cum filling me, the way he’s been relentlessly pounding my G-spot with the head of his cock, or his demand, but I fall apart. He strokes his dick in and out of me through my orgasm until I’m trembling.
Connor pulls out slowly, our combined cum leaking down my legs. He gathers it up with his hand and shoves four cupped fingers back into my tender sex.
“Oh my god,” I whine. Why? Why is this so unbelievably hot?
“You better hold my cum in your cunt, baby, because it needs to stay inside you where it belongs.” He slaps my ass again, the sting from the cold intensifying the pain. Surely I have red handprints on my ass cheeks.
He pulls up my thong and jeans for me, leaving me to button and zip them before doing up his own jeans—ever the gentleman, even freshly fucked.
He takes his cowboy hat back from my head and kisses me sweetly on the lips.
“You’re a real cowboy now, stud. A farrier to boot,” I say.
“I’m not your studmuffin anymore?” he asks playfully.
“Naw, baby, you leveled up.”