Chapter 25 #3
His finger runs along the tattoo on my hip, and he smiles.
“I’m the luckiest fucking guy alive.” His striking blue eyes meet mine, like midnight starlight with the way they shine.
“Ride me hard, cowgirl. I want you to use me and drench me in this sweet pussy. Don’t hold back.
” He grips my thighs, preparing himself.
Damn, how is he so hot?
“And I just… sit?”
“Like a chair,” he grins.
Slowly, I set myself down on his face, feeling his scruff rubbing against me.
He grabs my ass, anchoring me to his mouth.
A ragged moan escapes my lips as his tongue enters inside me, not bothering to go slow as he takes what he wants.
I don’t know how he’s breathing, or able to groan into me with such intensity, but my hips begin to rock, desperate for every sensation of his lips.
For everything he’s giving me.
His hand moves to my clit, maximizing my pleasure, and my body trembles, nearly collapsing on top of him. I’m so wet, and yet I keep getting wetter. My hands thread through his hair, pulling him against me. Using him and directing his tongue to where I need him, just like he asked.
I’ve never felt like this. This wild. This filthy, and I love it. I love riding his face. I love feeling like I’m the object of all his desires.
He clearly only has eyes for you.
And a mouth, apparently.
How have I never experienced this before?
He laps up my arousal with his tongue, sucking me dry like I’m his favorite flavor. Like he can’t get enough. “Fuck!” I scream, feeling like I’m going to combust from the pleasure he’s giving me. My hips rock harder into him. Truly and surely fucking his face like he wanted.
“Kit,” I cry out his name. “I need… I can’t—” And then I lose all control, dropping my head back, reaching the best orgasm of my life. The release sends tingles down my spine. Shockwaves to my limbs. I feel as if I’m going to collapse.
His rough hands grip my hips, steadying me before he lifts me from his face, gently laying me on my back. There’s a satisfied look in his sparkling blue eyes, and my cum shining on his chin as he hovers over me.
“Did you like fucking my face?”
Crimson fills my cheeks. “Yes.” I liked it a lot. He has a very fuckeable face. Pretty sure it’s my new favorite chair.
“You’re very good at it,” he smiles. “Free rides anytime.”
A laugh ruptures in my throat, and he kisses me. My fingers run down his bare back. The perfected muscles just begging for me to explore their strength. He pulls back, watching me roam the lines of his body. Shallow breaths escape his mouth.
“Are you satisfied, Tequila?” His soft gaze drifts to my lips. “Or do you want more?” I always want more, but I can’t believe he’s asking me.
No one’s ever asked me if I wanted more.
“I need the rest of you.”
He grins at that, tugging off his sweatpants before slowly sheathing himself inside of me. I moan at the way my body takes him in, clamping around him.
He starts to thrust, taking his time, but I want more.
“Fuck me harder, Cowboy,” I whisper in his ear, nails digging into his back, desperate for more. Words I’ve never said to anyone but him.
He curses softly, pulling out.
Before I realize what he’s doing, he slams back into me, and I scream from the sensation. My body stretches around him as he drives in deep, settling in before he proceeds to pound into me. Riding me as hard as I rode his face. Filthy words escape his mouth, and I’m overcome.
You want something. Ask for it.
And this is exactly what I wanted. The friction. The way he fills me. Being fucked by Kit Harlow is just too damn good. Skin slaps against skin as he gives me what I asked for, building me up so high that when I finally come, I crash hard, with stars glittering in my vision. Entirely spent.
Afterwards, his arms wrap around me, tucking me close to his body while he caresses my curves, lulling me to sleep.
My heavy eyes shut tight, and his voice whispers soft words in the dark.
So low and quiet that I’m unsure if I’m awake or dreaming.
“I love you, Sadie. You belong here,” he gently strokes my arm, drawing circles with his finger. “All of it… it’s yours.”
The next morning, when I wake, Kit is already gone with Bandit, leaving an apology note on the nightstand. I didn’t know handwritten notes could be so adorable until I found this one.
I’m sorry, I had something important to do. There are waffles in the microwave for you. Eat up. You earned them.
Kit (aka Cowboy)
I laugh, stomach grumbling in response. Scoffing down breakfast, showering, and then heading out for another day on the ranch.
Snow falls slowly from the sky, stuck in the still breeze as I ride in on Sugar.
Grey clouds loom over the dense mountains, blocking out most of the sun, making the air feel colder than it should.
Crisp enough to give you a nosebleed. Winter seems to be permanently settling in for the season.
I fidget in the saddle, slightly sore from the intensity I asked Kit for last night, but I have no regrets. I’ve never felt this close to him.
This happy.
Despite all my anxious energy yesterday, there’s a smile on my face that feels permanent. Getting close and personal to Kit is my new favorite thing. Whatever brought out that wild side in him was good enough for me.
I love watching him lose control.
Sadie:
Kit might have told me he loved me last night.
Averie:
What??? OMG! What do you mean by might have?
Sadie:
I was half-asleep. Maybe I dreamed it.
Averie:
How do you feel about it?
I tuck my phone in my pocket, unsure how to answer her. All I know is that my heart is safe with his. Words he’d said to me last night while holding me tight in his arms. Anything beyond that is just too complicated right now.
My phone buzzes again, but thankfully, it isn’t Averie bugging me about Kit’s random midnight I love you. It’s a message from Tanner telling me that my furnace is finally fixed. It should be a relief, but some part of me never wants the sleepovers to end.
Would he expect me to move back to my cabin? Would he ask me to stay? I feel like I already know the answer, and somehow it doesn’t scare me.
Yup, complicated.
All of it.
Fluffy cows poke their heads through the fence, greeting me. Their soft moos call to me, as if they’re trying to speak.
“Yes, I’ll feed you soon,” I say back to them.
The sight of a familiar shiny black sports car sitting in the driveway stops me in my tracks. There’s no mistaking his average height, dark brown cowboy hat, medium-length brown hair that peeks around his ears, and pressed suit pants. A suit-jacketed snake.
Markus.