Sex Addict (Cowboy Addiction 2)

“Fuck me,” she snapped. “Now.”

Kemper snarled. “Don’t rush me, babe.”

Holly’s gaze met Kit’s, and he saw the accepted challenge in her eyes. Bodies rolled, undulated in no particular pattern.

Kemper topped her once more. She locked her ankles behind Kemper’s back and threw herself forward, tossing her arms over his shoulders. In the process, she raked those manicured nails across his flesh until he cried out.

“Fuck!” Kemper screamed, using his forearm to swipe away the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.

“Yes, that’s the idea when your dick is buried in my pussy.” Her hair fanned around her as she rocked her body with the motions. “Now, honey bunny. Get me off. Make me come. Use your hard cock like it was meant to be used. Screw me!”

Ah hell. Kit loved it when she talked trash. He glared down at his rigid cock and cursed himself.

What was the saying about being played by the player? He shook his head. He couldn’t remember, and it was too late now. Someone should have warned them. One of the regulars from that topless club should’ve told them to watch their backs.

That was sort of hard to do when Holly kept them flat against a mattress most of the time.

“Deeper!” Holly exclaimed, twisting her nipples.

Good Lord, Kit needed a piece of her before he exploded in his pants like a teenage boy watching porn for the very first time.

Besides, Kemper looked beat. Holly had been riding him like he was her personal pony or, at the very least, a motorized toy. If the sweat pellets rolling down Kemper’s cheek provided proof, Holly’s man-size gadget was running out of juice for his batteries.

Kemper needed to recharge. Kit wanted to expend some energy.

Kicking aside his boots, Kit removed his cowboy hat and tossed his new Stetson on the nightstand. He shrugged off his white T-shirt and stepped away from faded denim jeans.

“Scoot over,” he demanded, crawling across the mattress.

“You bet,” Holly said saucily.

“Thank God,” Kemper grumbled, withdrawing from her body and pitching a condom box in Kit’s direction. “Somebody is trying to kill me today.”

Kemper gave Holly a peck on the cheek and shook Kit’s hand. “Good luck. With the mood she’s in? You’ll be damn lucky if you leave her bed alive.”

A few minutes later, Holly was riding solo when she needed a double stuffing. She placed her hands behind her head and clucked, teasing Kit in an obvious effort to put him in a better mood.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, tipping his nipple with her tongue. “You act like you’re mad at me.” Her lips tightened against one flat disc and then another.

Her mouth stayed busy, but she never slowed the tempo set as she fucked him. She wiggled around, clenching his cock with her pussy, squeezing his dick until he swore under his breath.

“Not now. Ah, fuck!” He rammed inside her. He didn’t want to discuss his troubles. Hell no. What he needed to say was better postponed.

“Are you pouting because Kemper and I couldn’t wait?”

“Wench,” he rasped, grabbing her by the hips and throttling her, watching as his cock disappeared between her swollen folds.

“I’m your wench,” she promised, tweaking her puffy nipples, the swollen points hard enough to crack.

“There you go,” he crooned. “Play with yourself. Pull ’em for me, honey.”

She locked her top teeth over her bottom lip and toyed with her full breasts, following his direction and far exceeding his expectations. What he’d give for a pair of clamps about right then. The more she pinched and pulled, the more prominent the diamond shapes.

Kit positioned her over him and lapped at her nipples, pampering them with all sorts of attention as he buried his tortured dick inside her, taking his sloppy seconds and already looking forward to a third helping. With any luck, she’d serve up a fourth.

“Come on, Kit baby. Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You don’t wanna know,” he promised, hammering forward, moving closer and closer to his release. The pulsing heat of his semen stung the base of his cock. He thrust inside her evenly, waiting a few seconds between each assault. “Hmm… Nope, you sure don’t.”