Chapter 84
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
HUNTER
I take her hand, and we run.
Across the field, past the fence line, through the dark with the music fading behind us and the stars opening up overhead. Her wedding dress billows behind her. Her cowboy boots kick up dust. She’s laughing, and the sound of it is the only music I need.
The barn sits at the edge of the east pasture. My ranch hands have been working on it for a week. I spent yesterday here alone, getting every detail right.
I pull open the wooden door and flick the light. Then I step back and watch her walk in.
“Hunter,” she whispers, her hands covering her mouth.
It’s no longer just a barn. It’s our escape.
String lights wrap around every wooden pole, casting the space in warm amber.
There’s a living area. A deep leather couch, a television, a thick rug.
Behind that, set right beneath the skylight in the roof, is the biggest bed I could find.
Four posts. White sheets. Rose petals scattered across every inch.
On the bedside table, champagne for Lola, whiskey for me, two glasses. And in the far corner, a cupboard. Inside it, things I think she’ll want to discover.
She turns in a slow circle. The lights dance in her eyes. “You did this?”
“For us.”
I lift her over my shoulder, and she squeals, fists drumming my back. I carry her to the bed and set her down in the middle of the petals, which scatter around her like confetti.
I settle between her legs. Look down at her. Red hair on white sheets. Cherry necklace at her throat. My ring on her finger. The stars above us.
And everything aligns. This was what I’ve spent my entire life searching for. This woman right here.
“I made this place for us,” I tell her.
“A sex room?”
I chuckle and work off her boots. “A baby-making room, let’s call it.”
“What are you going to do to me in here, sir?”
I unbutton my shirt. Watching her watch me. Then rip it off and toss it.
I pour her champagne, then help her sit upright and hand it to her.
“Can I try some of that?” She nods at my whiskey.
I knock some back, but keep it in my mouth and grab her chin, making her head tilt back.
She parts her lips, and I let the whiskey flow from my mouth into hers. Then I kiss her hard. The burn and the sweetness tangling on our tongues.
“Do you like it?”
“Not sure. Try again.”
I chuckle and hand her the bottle.
She frowns at first, and then a mischievous grin spreads on her perfect lips.
I drop to my knees and tip my head back. “Swirl it round in your mouth first. Then spit it in mine.” I tell her.
Fuck, I’m about to come in my boxers.
She stands, placing one hand on my shoulder. I hear the glass, the swirl, the intake of breath. Oh, I’m ready.
I close my eyes and open my mouth.
The whiskey pours from her lips into mine. It’s warm and smoky and tastes just like her.
I grab her throat, pull her down, swallow it, and kiss her. “Taste better this way, darlin’?”
She nods and drops to her knees. “I think it did.”
Her fingers find my belt, and she unbuckles it with a confidence that sends blood rushing south so fast my vision darkens. “I know what else I like the taste of,” she says as she pushes down my pants and boxers.
Her hand wraps around my cock. Fuck, that firm grip, slow stroke, her thumb sliding over the tip and spreading the bead of wetness she finds there.
“I’d like to taste you now, sir,” she whispers.
I don’t hesitate, I’m up on my feet. “You think because it’s our wedding night, you’re in control?” I gruff, stroking her cheek as I look down at my gorgeous wife on her knees for me.
She nods, then takes me into her mouth.
My eyes slam shut as I hit the back of her throat. The warmth, the pressure, the way she hollows her cheeks and sucks until my toes curl against the floor.
“Fuck, baby,” I hiss.
She bobs up and down. Slow at first, finding her rhythm, then deeper. Wetter. I can hear it, and when I look down, her green eyes are blazing up at me through her lashes. Watching me unravel. Seeing how crazy I am for my wife.
“Good girl,” I murmur, running my fingers through her hair.
She pulls back to the tip. Swirls her tongue in a circle that makes my thighs shake. Then drags it down my shaft in one long, flat stroke that has me gripping her hair and fighting for air.
She takes me deep again. I feel her throat constrict around me, and a groan rips out so loud the horses in the next paddock probably heard it.
I need her. I need her so bad I can’t see straight.
I pull her off by her hair. She licks her lips, looking deeply impressed with herself. “Up,” I command.
And she does, biting her lip as I tug her hip, pull her flush against me, push her hair from her face. “You’re going to ride my face, baby. Get yourself off on my tongue.” I hold her stare. “And then, do you want me to take that virgin ass of yours?”
She sucks in a breath.
She’s ready. We’ve worked on this recently. My fingers. My tongue. Gradually more. Teaching her to relax. To trust me more than she already does. Establishing her boundaries.
“I’ll take it slow,” I whisper.
“I want it. I do.” She pauses. “But you can’t get me pregnant that way.”
I fight my smile as my chest tightens. Imagining Lola pregnant with my kid. Giving Wyatt a sibling. It’s everything I never believed I ever deserved.
“That can be after. Condom for this one. Okay?”
Her eyes light up. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I check again.
“Yes, sir.”
I growl and push her back onto the bed.