3. Ramona
— ? —
Ramona
Fifteen Years Later
Julius pulls me closer, waking me with my cheek against his shirt. The room is still gray, and I’m settling back to sleep when he tugs at the blanket bunched beneath my hip.
“Can I have some of that?” He brushes my hair away from his mouth. “You’ve got most of it under you.”
“I got cold.” I shift enough to free the edge, but I keep hold of his shirt when he starts to move, because he has a habit of using the blanket as an excuse to get up. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere. I’m trying to cover my feet.” He laughs quietly and pulls the blanket over both of us, then lies still so I know he means it. “You planning to let go of me?”
“I haven’t decided.” I press my face against his neck, where his skin is warm, and breathe him in. “You’re comfortable.”
His arm comes around my waist. I slide my feet between his legs, and he draws in a breath before looking down at me.
“Those are cold, sweetheart.” He rubs his hand over my back while I try to wedge them farther beneath him.
“I told you.” I lift my head, smiling when he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You could be a little more helpful.”
“I’m holding you and warming your feet.” He brushes his nose against mine. “What else did you have in mind?”
I catch his chin and kiss him, slowly enough that his hand stills against my back. When I draw away, he follows for another, and I let him have it before I lie back on his pillow.
“That was all.” I pat his chest. “You can go back to sleep now.”
“You woke me up for that?” He pulls me close again, his mouth curving against my cheek.
“You woke me up.” I rest my hand over his heart, where it’s still going a little fast. “I was being nice about it.”
“You were.” He kisses my forehead and keeps me against him. “I appreciate it.”
Neither of us sleeps. Morning light comes through the windows facing the pasture, and when I lift my head again his hair is a mess and there’s a crease from the pillow on his cheek. I’m still watching his mouth when he catches me looking.
“You could ask me for a kiss.” He brushes his thumb over my waist.
“I gave you some blanket. I thought you’d offer.” I grab his shirt and pull him closer.
“I was getting to it.” He smiles before lowering his mouth to my neck.
He kisses the spot beneath my ear, and my fingers loosen around the blanket. When he reaches for it, I try to grab his hand, but he’s already pulling it free and tossing it over the side of the bed.
“That wasn’t fair.” I turn toward him.
“You invited me over.” He moves closer, his hand resting on my hip.
“I invited you under the blanket.” I glance toward the floor. “Now neither of us has it.”
“I’ll get it.” He starts to move, but I tighten my grip on his shirt.
“You can get it in a minute.” I pull him back toward me.
He cups my chin, tipping my face up until I have nowhere to look but him. His thumb drags along my jaw, slow, deciding how much of me he wants first.
His smile softens.
He leans in just enough that I lift my head to meet him.
The first kiss is gentle, barely there. He draws back a fraction, watching my mouth, then kisses me again, deeper this time, taking his time.
I slide my hand from his shirt to the back of his neck.
When I turn closer, his arm settles around my waist and pulls me in until there’s nothing left between us but heat.
I break it first. Just enough to smile against his mouth.
“That’s all?”
His eyes darken.
A quiet sound leaves his throat, and then his hand is at the back of my neck, dragging me back in. This kiss is slower and hungrier, his tongue sweeping against mine until my breath catches and I forget I was ever cold.
“Keep looking at me like that.” His mouth stays against mine. “And I’m not stopping.”
“Who asked you to stop?”
He laughs, low, and kisses me again.
His hand slides from my hip to my stomach, then lower, unhurried, until his fingers slip beneath the edge of my panties.
He finds me already slick.
A satisfied hum vibrates against my mouth as he strokes through the wet heat of me, circling, teasing, not quite giving me what I want.
“Oh, fuck.” It comes out against his lips.
“Already this wet.” His finger dips, then pushes inside, slow, curling just right. “And I haven’t even started.”
I moan, soft at first, the sound caught between our mouths. He adds a second finger, stretching me, working me open with that same maddening patience. His thumb finds my clit and presses, rubbing in tight little circles while his fingers pump deeper.
The next one is louder.
“Shh, easy.” His lips brush mine, still kissing me through it. “You want someone to hear what I do to you?”
I shake my head, but another sound spills out anyway as he picks up the pace, fingers thrusting faster, curling against the place that makes my thighs tremble. His thumb never lets up. The wet sound of him inside me fills the quiet.
“That’s it.” His voice is rougher now. “Let me feel you. Come on my fingers.”
The moan that leaves me is too loud, too desperate. He shushes me again, his mouth still on mine, swallowing the sounds as his fingers work me faster, harder, until the tension snaps. I come with a broken cry against his mouth, clenching around him, pulsing so hard I can’t breathe.
He doesn’t stop until I go slack beneath him, my thighs trembling against his hip.
He pulls his fingers free and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean while he watches my face. “You’re ready for me.”
“Then stop talking.” I grab a fistful of his hair and pull him back down.
That grin is not polite. He lets me drag him closer.
He hooks his fingers in my panties and drags them down my legs, tossing them somewhere behind him.
His shirt follows, yanked over his head and thrown aside.
His pants hit the floor with a thud from his belt buckle.
Then he’s back over me, his mouth finding mine as he settles between my thighs.
The head of his cock drags through my folds, lining up and holding there, letting me feel how hard he is.
“Look at me.” He cups my jaw with one hand and tilts my face toward his.
I do, and his eyes are so dark I can barely see the gold flecks anymore.
He sinks into me in one slow, devastating thrust, filling me until there’s nothing left to take. The sound I make isn’t a word. He groans against my throat, buried to the hilt, and then he starts to move, deep and slow, every stroke dragging along every sensitive inch of me.
“God, you take me so well.” His breath is hot against my ear. “Always so tight. God, you feel good.”
“Harder, Julius.” It comes out wrecked.
He gives it to me. His hips snap forward, the slap of skin filling the room, and I cling to him, nails in his back, meeting every thrust. He fucks me hard and sure, and maybe he’s been thinking about this all night.
When he pulls out, I nearly complain. Whatever I was going to say stays there the second he rolls onto his back and looks at me with that heat in his eyes.
I crawl down his body and wrap my hand around his cock, slick with me.
I lick a slow stripe up the underside, then take him into my mouth, sinking down until my lips meet the base of him, until he hits the back of my throat.
My tongue swirls over the head as I pull back, tasting the salt of his precum, and I do it again, slower, looking up at him while I lick it off.
“Fuck, Ramona.” The words punch out of him. His hand fists in my hair, guiding, showing me the pace he wants. “Just like that. Take all of it. God, your mouth…”
I hum around him and he groans, hips twitching as I suck him deeper, tongue working the sensitive underside, hollowing my cheeks. I lick another bead from the tip, holding his gaze, and the sound he makes is almost pained.
“Come here.” He tugs at my shoulder. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
I climb up his body and sink down onto his cock in one slow drop, taking every inch, and neither of us is quiet about it. His hands find my waist, gripping hard enough to bruise.
I ride him, rolling my hips, grinding down so my clit drags against him with every movement. He thrusts up to meet me, and the angle is perfect, hitting it over and over until I’m shaking again.
“That’s it. Use me.” His hands slide up to my breasts, squeezing, thumbs dragging over my nipples. “I want to watch you come again.”
“I’m close…”
“I know. I can feel you.” He thrusts up harder. “Come with me. I want to feel you lose it.”
I drop down and grind, chasing it, and he meets me thrust for thrust until it crashes through both of us at once. I come apart on top of him, and he groans my name as he spills inside me, his hands locked on my hips.
I collapse onto his chest, both of us breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside me.
His mouth finds that spot on my neck again, gentler now. A smile against my skin.
“Still cold?” He says it into my skin.
I laugh and go slack against him. “Shut up.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He reaches over the side for the blanket, but I’m still lying across him. After a moment, he gives up and settles his arm around me again.
“You’ll have to move a little.” He rubs his palm slowly over my back.
“I’m comfortable.” I kiss his shoulder without lifting my head.
***
This is the part nobody sees.
Julius Wyatt buried his father at twenty-four and turned the family ranch into the biggest name in rodeo stock in the country.
The Wyatt brand is on trucks and arenas.
One of his colts sold for more than Dad paid for our whole farm. Julius came home talking about a little gray mare nobody wanted and asked if I’d like to meet her. And here he is with his face buried in his wife’s neck, laughing at her bad jokes, forgetting everything outside this bedroom.
“We should probably get up.” I run my fingernails down his back, but when he kisses my collarbone, I leave my hand between his shoulders.
“You keep saying that while you’re doing this.” He settles closer, his cheek warm against my skin. “It’s a little confusing.”