Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

She wiggled again.

“I want you to be still, Emma.” He dragged a piece of rope across her arm. “So that I can fuck you good and properly.”

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Between his heated kisses, he’d expertly bound her wrists with rope cuffs and then tied her tightly to headboard.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, his tongue sliding across her neck, slowly and teasingly, taking his time to savor every moment.

“Yes. Please.” Even with her dubious track record, she couldn’t help liking her men naughty and adventurous, and everything about Shep screamed that.

She shivered when he swirled his tongue over the curve of her earlobe and murmured in her ear, “You can’t run. You can’t squirm. You’re all mine to taste . . . to tease.” He tugged on the rope again, letting her feel how trapped she was beneath him.

She wasn’t afraid, not a shred of worry in her mind.

He raised up again, hovering over her. Something changed in his eyes then. They became more powerful, controlled even. Like he reined in all his wicked thoughts and formed a plan for the night ahead. She burned with anticipation, watching the magnificent man open his worn jeans. He shoved them down to his knees, freeing his hard cock that was the size she’d imagined, just the right length and perfectly thick.

With his pants off now and nothing between them, the air became charged with energy. His warm, hard body closed against her soft planes, and her skin flushed red-hot. He pressed a hand against her hip, pinning her down again, beneath him, exactly where she wanted to be. Those powerful eyes watched her intently as he began brushing his erection against her clit. He was relentless in his teasing, until she began to quiver with need. Until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Please. I want you so bad.” She struggled against the bindings and the weight of his body. “I need you so much.”

“You need this.” He slid his erection back and forth over her throbbing clit.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I need more.”

“Ah, I see,” he whispered across her lips, lifting his hips and pressing the tip of his cock inside her. “Is this what you want, Emma? My cock driving inside you?”

“Yes!” She’d beg if that’s what he wanted, if only he’d keep touching her in the way he had. Passion seeped from his touches, and when she looked into the depths of his eyes, the promise there consumed her.

“Tell me that you want me.”

It was an order.

One she’d happily oblige.

“I want you, inside me,” she breathed.

Her eyes widened, breath caught in her throat, when he pushed through her slick heat, right to the hilt, as if all he’d been waiting for was her permission. She couldn’t hold back the moans pouring from her mouth. He filled her perfectly, moving so very deep inside her, working her body like it belonged to him.

He stared at her intently, his fingers grazing the rope around her wrists, while he shifted his hips in a steady rhythm, his hard flesh stroking her soft, wet skin. Energy sizzled around her and she lost herself in his touch. There was something about this guy that tempted her with unfamiliar sensations. It seemed like if she let him in and lowered all her guards, he’d show her the world in a way she’d never seen it.

With each pound of his hips, he brought her higher. The burn on her wrists. The pressure of his body. The passion in his eyes. It all became too much, so much to absorb. She fought against closing her eyes and lost sight of those unique silvery-blue beauties, as blackness began to fill her vision.

Skin slapped against skin. The sensual brush of his low grunts spilled over her.

Until he spoke again. “That’s it, Emma, come back to me.”

His voice sounded far away now, not hovering over her, but off in the distance. His strong body was no longer resting against her, and coldness sank deep into her bones. “What . . .” Her throat was dry, scratchy.

“This may hurt a little,” another voice said.

A sudden prick on her hand had her gasping, eyes flying open. Instantly, she was blinded by the bright lights above her. She blinked, again and again, until she saw Shep’s silvery-blue eyes. He wore the same dark-brown cowboy hat that she remembered he’d had on earlier at the bar, but his clothes were different. He’d been in a plaid button-down. Now she found him in a black T-shirt. No bound wrists. No dirty talk. No warm, defined muscles beneath creamy flesh. She blinked twice more. “Where am I?” she croaked.

Shep’s eyebrows were drawn over concerned eyes. He rested his hand on her forehead, and he felt so cold, his eyes looked so cold. This wasn’t the man she’d known a second ago. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “You’re all right. We’re on the way to the hospital.”

“I’m going to give you something for the pain,” the other voice said again from somewhere next to her.

She attempted to lift her head, but a harsh throb sent her head straight back down onto the pillow, where she stared up at a bag of IV fluid. “What’s going on?”

“Be still, darlin’.” Shep pressed harder against her forehead, pinning her in the same way he’d pinned her to the mattress. “I know this is confusing. But you’re fine. I found you in a field being dragged by a horse this morning.”