Chapter 11
eleven
. . .
Wayne
Morning chores used to be the most peaceful part of my day.
Just me, the animals, and the ranch waking up around me.
Now? Now they're fucking torture—the sweetest kind.
Because Judy insists on helping, wearing those tiny shorts and one of my flannels, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail that makes me want to grab it, tilt her head back, and bite that slender neck.
After last night—after tasting her, making her come with my mouth—I can't stop thinking about what's next.
Can't stop imagining her spread out beneath me, taking my cock for the first time, those pretty hazel eyes wide with the shock of being filled.
My hands itch to touch her constantly, and I'm finding fewer and fewer reasons to hold back.
We slept together last night. Just slept.
Her small body curled against mine, trusting and warm.
It took every ounce of self-control not to roll her beneath me, strip her bare, and claim her completely.
But I need to take this slow. Need to let her adjust to each new experience.
Need to make sure she's ready when I finally push inside her virgin pussy.
The thought makes my cock stiffen behind my jeans. Again. Been walking around half-hard all morning.
"What next?" Judy asks, looking up at me with those big eyes, cheeks flushed from exertion or arousal or both. We've just finished feeding the horses, and she's standing close—too close—smelling like hay and sunshine and girl.
I clear my throat. "Need to check the tack. Make sure nothing needs repairing."
She nods, eager to help. Eager to please. The knowledge sends another jolt of heat through me. She wants to be good for me. Has from the beginning.
"Come on, then," I say, placing my hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the tack room. The touch is unnecessary—she knows where we're going—but I can't help myself. Need to feel her, even through layers of clothing.
The tack room is small and dim, smelling of leather and saddle soap. Bridles and halters hang from hooks along one wall, saddles resting on stands against another. I close the door behind us, the click of the latch loud in the confined space.
We're alone. Completely alone. No one around for miles. No chance of interruption.
Judy moves to the nearest saddle, running her fingers over the leather. "What am I looking for?"
"Cracks," I say, voice rougher than I intended. "Weak spots. Anywhere that might need conditioning."
She nods, bending slightly to examine the stitching. The position emphasizes the curve of her ass in those tiny shorts. My hands flex at my sides, itching to grab, to squeeze, to claim.
Fuck it.
I step forward, closing the distance between us. She must sense me behind her because she straightens, turning to look up at me over her shoulder.
"Wayne?" Her voice is soft, questioning.
I don't answer with words. Instead, I place my hands on her shoulders and turn her to face me, backing her gently against the wall. Her eyes widen, but there's no fear there. Only trust and a growing heat that matches my own.
"Can't keep my hands off you," I admit, voice a low growl. "Been thinking about touching you all morning."
Her lips part on a small intake of breath. "I've been thinking about it too."
The admission sends a surge of lust through me, making my cock throb painfully behind my zipper. I bend, capturing her mouth with mine in a kiss that's hungrier, more demanding than before. She responds immediately, arms winding around my neck, body pressing against mine.
My hands slide down her sides, over the curve of her hips, around to cup her ass. Perfect. Fits in my palms like she was made for me. I squeeze, enjoying her small gasp against my lips, then lift her slightly, encouraging her to wrap those slim legs around my waist.
She gets the idea quickly, jumping up as I support her weight easily. Now she's pinned between my body and the wall, my erection pressed directly against her center. Even through our clothing, I can feel her heat.
"This okay?" I murmur against her lips, needing to check despite the evidence of her desire.
"Yes," she breathes, rocking her hips slightly, seeking more pressure. "Please, Wayne."
I slide one hand between our bodies, trailing my fingers up the inside of her thigh until I reach the edge of those shorts. I hesitate there, teasing her, watching her face as her eyes darken with need.
"Tell me what you want," I demand, voice rough with restraint.
She blushes, still innocent despite what we've already done. "Touch me. Like…like last night."
My fingers slip beneath the fabric, finding her already wet through her panties. "So eager for me," I praise, rubbing her through the damp cotton. "Already soaked."
Her head falls back against the wall, exposing the slender column of her throat. I can't resist leaning in to taste her there, dragging my tongue over her pulse point before sucking gently, careful not to leave a mark. Not yet.
I push her underwear aside, finally feeling her bare flesh against my fingers. So soft. So wet. So fucking perfect. I slide one finger through her folds, gathering her slickness, circling her entrance without pushing inside.
"Wayne," she whimpers, hips bucking against my hand. "Please."
"Patience, angel," I murmur against her neck. “Daddy’s going to take care of you."
Finally, I push one finger inside her tight heat, groaning at the feel of her clenching around me. She's so tight. Virgin tight. My cock jerks at the thought of pushing into that tight channel, stretching her around my girth.
"Oh!" she gasps, eyes flying wide at the new sensation.
"Okay?" I check, stilling my finger inside her.
She nods frantically. "Yes. Don't stop."
I start moving, working my finger in and out slowly, letting her adjust to the feeling of penetration. Her breathing quickens, little pants and moans escaping her lips. When I feel her relaxing around me, I add a second finger, stretching her slightly.
"That's it," I praise as she takes the second finger easily. "Taking it so well. Such a good girl for me."
The praise makes her clench around my fingers, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. Interesting. She really responds to that.
I increase my pace, fucking her with my fingers while my thumb finds her clit, circling the sensitive nub just how I learned she likes it last night. Her legs tighten around my waist, heels digging into my lower back as she rocks against my hand.
"Wayne," she moans, voice breathy and desperate. "I'm going to…it's happening again..."
"Come for me, angel," I encourage, curling my fingers inside her to hit that spot that makes her gasp. "Let go. I've got you. I’ve always got you.”
She shatters around my fingers, inner walls pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. Her head falls forward onto my shoulder, muffling her cries as she comes. I feel her wetness soaking my hand, running down my wrist. Fuck, she gets so wet when she comes. Another thing that drives me crazy about her.
I work her through it, slowing my movements as the aftershocks subside, until she's boneless in my arms, breathing hard against my neck. Only then do I withdraw my fingers, bringing them to my mouth to taste her.
Her eyes widen as she watches me lick her essence from my fingers. "Wayne," she whispers, sounding scandalized and aroused at once.
"Delicious," I tell her with a smirk. "Can never get enough of how you taste."
I let her legs slide down until her feet touch the ground again, keeping an arm around her waist to steady her. She leans into me, trusting me to hold her up while she catches her breath.
Mine, the possessive voice in my head insists. All mine.
And she is. With each touch, each orgasm, each moment of pleasure I give her, she becomes more mine. Soon, I'll claim her completely. Mark her inside and out as belonging to me. Fill her with my cum. Maybe even with my child someday.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, it feels right. Inevitable.
"We should finish the chores," I say eventually, though I make no move to release her.
She nods against my chest but doesn't pull away either. "In a minute," she says softly.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, content to hold her for as long as she needs. The chores can wait. Everything can wait except this—this perfect moment with her in my arms, satisfied and soft and completely mine.