Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

Her eyes fluttered shut when his swats became different, seemingly more focused. The slaps were right on top of each other, almost strategically placed, drawing heat and warmth down low in her body, bringing all her focus there. She squirmed against the burn on her bottom, against the heaviness in her womb, and she couldn’t stop moaning, desperate for him to take her higher.

Shep chuckled, sliding a hand between her thighs, gathering up her arousal then sliding the silkiness across her warm bottom. All to prove how wet he made her from a spanking, of that she was sure. He nipped at her butt. “Christ, Emma, I want you.”

“Then take me,” she gasped.

“Ah, darlin’, I plan to fuck you, but I already told you, I want to taste you.” He squeezed her bottom. “Arch your back.” Raw masculine lust echoed in his groan, and to be the reason for his arousal made her crave his cock now more than ever. He gave one final hard slap, and then all that heat only burned deeper when she felt his tongue slowly licking across her slit. Shamelessly, she arched her back farther, giving him access to all of her.

He took full advantage.

Her breath whooshed out as the flat of his tongue slid through her folds, stroking her clit. Her eyes shut, and she dropped her head against her hands on the fence, while he played, expertly drawing out her pleasure. Every so often he’d add in another slap, dragging her from the euphoria and yet somehow taking her higher all the same, until she was trembling, unable to lift her head, so lost in the place he’d taken her, moaning into the pleasure.

Two more hard swats left her gasping and quivering against his mouth. He rose, and she glanced back, seeing him reaching into his wallet and grabbing out a condom. He tossed his wallet to the ground then opened his belt. His jeans fell to his cowboy boots a second later, and he applied the condom. His strong hold gripped her hips, and then he was inside her, giving her all she needed, and she moaned. Her legs trembled when he fisted his hand in her hair, tilting her head back until he leaned over her, his mouth right by her ear. His groans became all she heard while he pumped into her, slamming his pelvis against her warm ass. This wasn’t lovemaking, this was something so much dirtier, and she wanted more.

“Yes. Harder,” she begged.

He froze, one hand on her hip, the other controlling the position of her head. His voice brushed against her ear. “You want to come, darlin’?”

“Yes.” She moaned, her inner walls convulsing around his shaft.

He slowly slid in and out, right to the tip. “Ah, but, darlin’, we can do better, don’t you think?”

Oh my, she was so close. Right there. Her legs quaked now, her body seemingly no longer belonging to her, her pussy a vise grip against his shaft. “Shep,” she breathed.

His rough laugh brushed against her ear. God, he was enjoying this. Again, she tried to move her head. When that failed, she rocked her hips. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He released her hip to slap her ass. Hard. “Fuck me.”

She rocked back against him, trying to get there herself, needing to claim the climax so close and yet so far away.

His swats on her bottom continued, until those slaps were right on top of each other. Her legs were no longer trembling; every part of her body was quivering. Only then did he reach for her hip again, pulling on her hair, angling her head back farther. It should have hurt. There was no pain. She soared into foreign pleasure, climbing higher and higher, until her moans were near gasps.

Then it all became too much.

Her muscles tightened, her breath gone.

/> Another swat. Then he growled, “This is how I want you, losing your fucking mind.” His fingers dug into her hip, then he unleashed himself, pumping into her until everything he built up, all the coiled tension his touch delivered, exploded into her screams while she crashed over the edge, shutting her eyes, falling into the darkness and euphoria of his touch.

She vaguely heard him roaring behind her, bucking and jerking his orgasm.

Many minutes passed. His fist was now gone from her head, his arm wrapped around her belly, the only way she remained on her feet.

Finally, when she could speak again, she laughed softly. “I must be dreaming. Or am in a coma or something because of the accident with Bentley? You cannot be real.”

He chuckled in her ear, breathless, yet still deep inside her, obviously enjoying the way her inner walls pulsed against him. “Now you’re just sucking up.”

“Will that mean more orgasms for me?”

“Yes.”

She turned her head, spotting his sexy grin, and laughed. “Then I’m perfectly fine with sucking up, kissing your ass, or whatever else you might want me to do, as long as you keep doing that to me.”

He pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder. “Ah, sweetheart, now that’s a deal.”

* * *

With Emma inside the house now preparing dinner, her sweet taste still on his tongue, Shep opened the gate to the sand ring, moving toward Tadgh. The horse stretched out his neck, and Shep stroked the soft hair under his hands. His morning had been long, and losing himself inside of Emma was exactly what he needed to pull the strain back in. There was a lot to figure out, and he needed to decide on what steps to take forward, but right now, he wasn’t thinking of anything but how much he enjoyed Emma. She was a nice distraction.

Tadgh snorted, nudging his nose into Shep, dragging him from his thoughts. He ran his hand up the horse’s face. “Yeah, bud, I know, you’re missing home.” He stabled Tadgh at the ranch, mainly to keep him with the large herd. He stroked down over Tadgh’s snout. “I’ll get you back to Fiona soon enough.” Fiona was the mare that Tadgh followed and defended, often. Being a gelding, there wasn’t much Tadgh could do to put Fiona into foal, but that didn’t seem to bother Tadgh or Fiona. They were madly in love and had been from the day they were introduced.

Shep gave Tadgh another pat on his neck before moving along, keeping his focus on Bentley. He didn’t have rope with him, or any aid to help him, but this afternoon he intended to push the horse a little. He averted his gaze slightly, not looking Bentley in the eye, and kept walking forward. His stride was steady, though not fast enough to frighten Bentley; he still walked with intent to show the horse he wasn’t afraid. That was the trick. Bentley needed to trust Shep, and while Shep might have earned a smidgen of that trust already, he couldn’t show a hint of weakness or all the steps Bentley had taken forward would crumble.