One Night Rodeo (Blacktop Cowboys 4)

Yep. It definitely affected him. Celia rubbed the strawberry against the mouth of her sex. She held it to his lips.

He bit into the ripe fruit and juice spurted everywhere.

Her belly cartwheeled when Kyle noisily sucked the juices—hers and the strawberry’s—from her fingers. Her stomach bottomed out entirely when he tossed the strawberry hull aside and slid his hands under her butt cheeks.

She whimpered when his tongue rubbed between her pu**y lips and connected with her clit. Then he followed the slit to the very heart of her, burrowing his tongue inside completely. So completely she had no idea how he breathed.

Kyle feasted on her pu**y. Growling against her tender flesh. His mouth was in constant motion as he drove her higher. Making her thrash and moan. Making her beg.

Finally he focused his oral attention on that bundle of nerves. Quick tongue flicks morphed into rhythmic sucking when she reached the tipping point. She exploded against his mouth. Her cunt throbbed as she gasped through every body-shaking pulse.

He brought her down from that stunning sexual high with soft smooches, tender nuzzles, and gentle sweeps of his hands.

Celia fell back on the table harder than she’d intended and her head made a hard clunk when it hit. She barely felt it, as she was still floating in an orgasmic haze.

But Kyle loomed over her immediately. “Baby, you okay?”

“Uh-huh. Well, ah, no.” She laughed and knew it sounded slightly hysterical. “You scrambled my brain. I don’t know which end is up.”

“Luckily I do.” He placed his mouth above her belly button and sucked hard. Hard enough to leave a love bruise. “It’s this way.” He’d already ditched his sweatpants and sported an impressive erection. Before she could comment on it, he started kissing her neck. “Hold on to me as you climb off the table.”

She expected he’d take her to bed, but he merely flipped the chair around, sat, and latched onto her hips, pulling her backward. “Stay facing out. Take off that shirt so I can touch you.”

His commanding voice was in direct opposition to the calming stroke of his thumbs over the curve of her ass. If she’d thought she was done being turned on by this man tonight, she was mistaken. Once again he had her heart racing and her body softening for his possession.

She scooted back and dropped onto his thighs. He guided all that male hardness inside her and she groaned.

“I know. It feels so damn good.” He nuzzled her nape. “Right when I shove my c**k into you I wanna f**k you like a madman. But when I feel your pu**y so tight and warm and wet around me? I wanna stay all up in you for as long as possible without moving. It’s been so long. I’ve finally got what I’ve wanted with you and I don’t want to rush it.”

“Kyle—”

“Don’t. Move.”

She wrapped her right arm behind his head to clutch his neck. He kept both his hands on her hips, his face against her nape.

They breathed together, their bodies connected but at rest.

His legs were damp with sweat against the backs of her thighs. His every exhalation was a caress on her skin.

“Such sweet obedience,” he whispered. “Move on me. Nice and slow. You’re awful damn good at a gallop but I wanna keep this at an easy trot.”

“How did you know horse analogies turn me on?” Hooking her heels on the bottom rungs on the chair legs gave her some stability and some leverage as she started to move.

He laughed. “Lucky guess.” He pulled her body to counter his upward thrusts. Measured thrusts. Nothing fast and furious.

Yet.

Kyle’s mouth was everywhere. On the side of her throat. On her ear. Cruising the slope of her shoulder. Bombarding her senses. All while that thick shaft moved inside her.

“Let’s kick up the pace.”

Celia wasn’t sure she could come like this, but she didn’t care. This was glorious. Naked and sweat-soaked in their kitchen and their bodies slapping together, his harsh breathing in her ear.

“Celia,” he panted. “Jesus, woman. What you do to me.” He grunted, shoved deep one last time and his seed filled her.

In the aftermath of such explosive loving, Celia hoped she could satisfy his sexual demands. Such passion existed in this man.

Don’t get addicted to his skills because this is temporary, remember? Remind him, remind yourself to enjoy it while it lasts.

His mouth brushed her ear. “Thank you.”

“I have a feeling these next six months are gonna be awesome.”

“Yeah. I might even learn to like strawberries.”

Chapter Eight

Country tunes played through her iPod speakers. Celia tried to concentrate on repairing the nail holes in the living room wall, but she kept sneaking glances at Kyle. Doing husbandly house stuff. In their house. In his faded, baggy jeans and a long-sleeved long john shirt that matched his green eyes. He’d pulled the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing her obsession: his forearms. An AFR ball cap sat on his head, laced-up leather work boots on his feet. He softly whistled off-key as he lightly sanded the shelves.

The man absolutely rocked her world in so many ways.

He’d woken her with insistent kisses, whispering in that raspy morning voice about how much he needed her. Her body heated at the sound of his voice. Moistened in response to his demands and amazingly thorough caresses. He’d taken her with tenderness as soothing as it was arousing. She loved that he let her see that needy side of him.

As soon as they finished the chores, Kyle joined her in the shower, f**king her mindless. Pressing her against the tiled walls as he took her from behind, he wrapped her braid around his fist, pulling to the slight edge of pain. She’d come so hard she’d screamed. Then he warned her he’d f**k her at least twice more before the day ended.