Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)

“Umm…yeah. But…” Oh, hello, fingers on my ni**les, I missed you in the last twenty minutes while you were on my hips. When he put his hands on her like that, softly, sweetly, reverently…her mind became mush. Gluttonous mush that couldn’t think beyond more.

“You were sayin’?” he murmured in that deep voice that dripped of sexually satisfied male.

“Oh. This is the third time today we’ve had rock-my-body, blow-my-hair-back sex.”

“Really? Since you didn’t mention scream-inducing sex, means I haven’t been up to snuff the other two times, so sugarplum, I fully plan on goin’ for four.”

Monday evening…

“Seriously. We need to talk. We can’t…” Keep doing this, her brain supplied lamely before it purred and went back into hibernation.

Rory’s eyes rolled back in her head when Dalton switched to those butterfly licks with his tongue.

He lifted his head long enough to say, “I can’t talk with my mouth full,” and buried his face between her thighs again.

Between his fingers and his skillful mouth, Rory didn’t stand a chance at holding back. The orgasm blasted through her like a grenade. No build up. Just BOOM.

Then Dalton was sliding into her. His teeth at her throat. His fingers twisted in her hair. “Put your hands on me, Aurora.”

And she lost herself in him. In them. This was more than sex. This was Dalton imprinting her body with his. So she’d have no memory of any other man before him and want no other man after him.

She’d take advantage of his sexual obsession with her because she knew it wouldn’t last.

Wednesday morning…

A warm mouth enclosed her nipple. Rough-tipped fingers skated across her belly, between her hipbones and back up to pluck at her other nipple.

In the pitch black of her bedroom, Rory had no idea what time it was. She stretched her arms above her head and turned to look at the clock.

“Keep your hands there,” he rasped in that deep morning voice.

“Mmm-kay. But I did have pajamas on last night. What happened to them?”

“They were in my way this morning.”

“By all means, just strip me when it suits you.”

“I already did. And you, nekkid, warm and soft beneath me suits me just fine.” Dalton’s mouth reversed course, down the plane of her abdomen. “Spread your thighs and give me room.”

As soon as she stretched her legs out, Dalton settled in the space she’d created. He opened the flesh hiding her clit with his thumbs and fastened his mouth to her sex. No teasing, just gentle coaxing as he kissed her soft tissues. He focused his flicking tongue and suction without pause until the first spasm pulsed against his lips.

She felt him swallow the juices pouring from her. Felt the male pride that he’d gotten her so wet that her essence coated his face. Then she felt the heat of his need blast over her like a shock wave.

His hands gripped her ass and he rolled to his knees, placing the backs of her legs against his chest. He leaned forward and slid into her pu**y. His strokes began slowly but didn’t stay that way for long.

Rory’s arms were above her head and she braced herself. Dalton bent so far forward, getting so deep inside her that her hips were parallel to her shoulders. Keeping one arm strapped against her legs, he grabbed the headboard and hammered his c**k into her. His eyes closed, his face tight, f**king her like a man possessed. The headboard slammed into the wall as he slammed into her.

Unbelievably hot, how strongly she affected this strong man.

He came in near silence.

But afterward, when he held her, the words came. Sweet words sometimes. Raunchy words others. Words that were a near confession and scared her as much as thrilled her.

Like now.

“You’re mine, jungle girl,” he whispered against her throat. “Only mine. I’m never walking away from you again.” He sealed his mouth to hers, preventing a response.

But Rory didn’t know what to say anyway. The more she held back, the more determined he became to hold onto her.

Dalton gradually broke the kiss. “It’s early yet and I just…needed you.”

Not wanted. Needed. She’d begun to understand the differences in those two words.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll make coffee and let Jingle out.”

After he left Rory’s place on Wednesday morning, Dalton eyed the No Hunting signs hanging from the barbed wire fence on either side of the gate as he fiddled with the lock. Despite the rust and grime from constant Wyoming wind, the paddle lock opened easily. He unwound the four feet of chain and tossed it in the back of his truck.

After he pulled through, he pushed the gate shut. An open gate was an open invitation. Especially if the gate had remained closed the last three years. He needed time to sketch out his plans and he wasn’t in the mood to explain them to his brothers or anyone else who might happen by.

In his truck he spread out the oversized copy of the land plat. Four years ago they’d bought two parcels of land totaling five hundred acres from neighbors whose marriage had hit the skids. Initially he and his brothers had intended to use the acres closest to the McKay ranch to run more cattle. Since a house and barn had been included with the property, Tell and Georgia had asked if they could move into it.

At the time, Dalton hadn’t minded living in a trailer. But it had bugged him that he’d fronted every penny for the land purchase and it was just expected that all five hundred acres would be absorbed into the McKay ranching operation. He wouldn’t have anything to show for all the money he’d put into it except joint ownership—split three ways.

So Dalton had consulted his cousin Gavin—beings he was a real estate guru—and Gavin suggested Dalton not give the entire section in a gesture of family largess, but personally retain a portion of the acreage, specifically the acreage that bordered Gavin’s land.

Dalton had agreed even though it dragged out the official paperwork an additional two months. By then, he’d started dating Addie and his brothers assumed that he’d build a house on that section for his wife-to-be. Strange to think he hadn’t even considered that option.

Once Brandt and Tell had taken possession of three hundred acres with creek access, they didn’t ask what Dalton intended to do with his section, since it was less conducive to running cattle. And during the years Dalton was gone, they’d never asked permission to do anything with the land—neither had Gavin.

And now Dalton knew exactly what he’d do with it.