Under the Rancher's Firm Hand

The blouse came off first. I smiled cheekily and tilted my head back, to see how the light kissed my neck. I saw my heartbeat under the thin skin, and I exhaled. My left arm slid down the side of my thigh, and my right arm grazed against the side of my bare ribs. My skin was soft and silky and I wondered how rough his huge hands would feel on me.

Need pulsed between my thighs and I hiked up my skirt. My left hand ventured south, rubbing my slit through the soaked silk of my panties. My right hand worked the clasp of the blue bra cupping my tits.

The embroidery across the C cups matched effortlessly with the lace peeking through the top of my skirt. I let out a little sigh as I unhooked it and let my breasts tumble free, my nipples already hard and aching. Hastily, I wriggled out of my skirt and panties, losing my patience with the game and plunging between the sheets.

I wondered how soundproof this place was, or how close Caleb’s room was to mine. Would he hear me touching myself? Would he know I was thinking of him?

The fingers working through my slippery folds are distinctly my own, but in my head, I’m imagining the thick, strong heat of Caleb’s hands, working my sensitive clit.

I gasped and writhed, my other hand rolling a sensitive nipple between a thumb and forefinger. I lick the digits before resuming, and imagine the warm wetness is Caleb’s tongue, teasing the sensitive bud while he plays with my pussy.

My whole body began to stiffen and I felt the first fluttering waves of climax washing over me.

“Do you want me to let you cum?” I imagined Caleb growling in my ear.

“Yes, please,” I whimpered, and I honestly couldn’t say for sure whether the words were aloud or just in my head, “Please make me cum, sir.”

And when the orgasm rocked me, it tore through me like tissue paper, leaving me in trembling, fluttery pieces as I struggled to catch my breath.

If I thought three days of trying to resist him was bad, how was I going to last…indefinitely?

Chapter 8 – Harlee

When I finally roused myself, the morning had an extra shade of brightness to it. Jillian had made us an excellent breakfast. As I bit into my toast, Caleb walked in. He was chipper. I could tell he had missed his home.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

Jill walked away when he sat, leaving just the two of us in the dining room.

I finished chewing the bite of toast and swallowed before answering. “Perfect. I loved the quiet.”

“It’s amazing isn’t it?” he replied excitedly, “The city is its own kind of jungle. Here, everything feels slower, more precise and detailed.”

“I love it. You wouldn’t believe how much I hated the mowers in the morning.”

“You lived alone?”

I cocked my head in confusion when he asked. “Yes, I did.”

He did a short ‘huh’ and sipped his juice.

“Is that so surprising?”

He shrugged and smiled. “I guess I just wouldn’t have pegged you to be a loner. A roommate, at least.”

I finished the rest of my bacon. “No. I like it that way. I always felt as though living with someone else cramped my space.”

“Well, I’d hate to crowd you,” he said, suddenly sounding a little wistful, “You know, if you want, I can arrange for the in-house chopper to fly you home.”

“No!” I answered quietly and firmly, then a little more calmly, I said it again. “No, please, I didn’t mean that. I want to work here. With you.”

He nodded, murmuring a quick ‘Ah’ and munched through his toast and eggs. I did not see the need to go back to a place that was empty. No one would be waiting for me, but I did not feel like getting into that conversation.

When he was done, I was too, and was ready to attend to his schedule for the day. Caleb’s eyes crossed from my head to my chest, and then hastily up again. I looked great for a day in the outdoors.

“How about we get to the proposal?”

I nodded and asked whether we would be doing it in the attic study or in the one that faced the swimming pool.

He seemed a little surprised by my knowledge, since he wasn’t part of my little tour with Jill, but he took it in stride. “Neither,” he said with a smirk. “I have some place better.”

It was definitely better.

There was a hidden passage between the walls behind his piano. Secret passageways were meant for billionaire vigilantes or mystery novel writers or people with sex dungeons. They were not meant for super rich farm boys. But he had this mysterious passageway all the same. And the inside was just as amazing as the imagination foretold.