The Virgin Cowboy (Cowboys & Virgins 4)

He drops his bag in the living room and finally puts me down, standing me up in front of him. I put my hands on my hips as fire rises in my chest. I want to slap him and kiss him all at the same time.

“Bran—”

“No,” he says, cutting me off. “You let me talk. You need to hear what I have to say.”

I roll my eyes and tap my foot, waiting, pretending I don’t care, when really inside I’m freaking out. What he always has to say is that I’m too young or some shit like that. Thinking he knows what’s best for me. Or worse, what if he says something about us having a fling and getting this out of our systems? I think that would hurt worse than him saying I’m too young. At least that meant he was worried about me. That he cares. But the idea of a fling makes it all feel cheap. That he doesn’t have these love feelings like I do and that this is all just lust for him. That would break my heart.

“I’ve wanted you from the second I saw you. When you were too goddamn young for me to be thinking about you the way I did. I waited and bided my time. When you turned eighteen, all I wanted to do was to finally claim you and make you mine. You’ve been driving me insane with how you call me Daddy and the way you play with me. You absolutely love pushing my buttons and testing my patience.” He takes a breath, closing his eyes like he’s still picturing it. “But I thought you deserved better than me, so I didn’t take what I wanted. More than wanted. I had respect for your brothers and for you, and I didn’t want to ruin you, Dolly. I wanted you to stay clean and pure. Not be with some bastard who doesn’t even know how you begin to give you a family. I don’t even really know what a family is. And I know that’s what you want. White-picket fence and kids running all over the place, all of that.”

“But—”

He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “But then I realized that no one will ever be good enough for you, not even me.” I see the dark look in his eyes as he takes a step towards me. “But it’s also true that no one will ever want you more than I do. And no one will ever love you more than I do.”

He drops down to one knee in front of me and pulls a simple gold band with a diamond on it out of his pocket.

“Brandon,” I whisper, my hands going to my mouth. I can’t believe what’s happening. He’s pouring his heart out to me. I hate that he thought he wasn’t good enough for me and that he doesn’t think he deserves a family.

“I want to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. I dragged my feet to give you a chance to change your mind about me, even though my feelings never changed. There’s nothing about you that I don’t love. You’re loud, the center of attention in every room, and I get to sit back and watch you shine. You’re stronger and work harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”

I don’t say a word as reaches out, taking my hand and sliding on the ring.

“You’re going to marry me, Dolly, not because I’m asking—I’m not—but because there’s no other choice that I will allow. You’re mine. Have been from day one. You sealed your fate the first time you turned those eyes on me and flashed those dimples. You think I’m going somewhere, but I’m not. The only direction I’ve ever been headed is towards you.”

I want to cry, I want to laugh, and I want to fall on the ground with him, all at the same time. But I’m frozen in place. He’s given me my every wish, and I don’t know how to process getting my happily ever after.

“Now,” he says, getting off the floor and picking me up. “I’m going to take you to bed and wear you out.”

9

Brandon

Dolly’s back hits the bed, and I’m on her, ripping at her top. The material is no match for my need for her—or my anger at the shirt. The sound of the material tearing is loud in the room, and it makes me even harder. My mouth goes straight for what’s been taunting me all night since she showed up in this outfit. Her full breasts spill out, and I lean down, latching on to her nipple. I’m going to make sure these clothes never see the fucking light of day again.

My hands lock on her hips as I eat at her body, wanting to know what she tastes like everywhere. Needing to know. All these years of want are pushing down on me, and I try to remind myself to go slow, but I can’t seem to stop. I need it all.

“Brandon,” she moans, her fingers sliding into my hair as her back arches off the bed.

“You giving yourself to me, little lamb?” I ask, looking up at her. My hands on her hips dig in deeper in pure possession. I can’t seem to let her go.

“I gave myself to you a long time ago,” she admits, and her words sink in deep. She belongs to me. Always has. There has never been another option. We were made for each other. I’m going to spend my life proving I’m the man for her, and I know she’ll give me the life I’ve been dreaming of.

Her legs fall open, and the skirt she has on bunches up around her hips. Her bare pussy is pressed up against me, and only my jeans are keeping me from being inside her. I don’t know if I hate them or love them right now. They’re making me slow down, because otherwise I’d already have all of my cock shoved inside her tight little cunt, spilling myself deep inside her, trying to make all those thoughts of her swollen with our child come true.

“So you’re saying this belongs to me.” I thrust up against her, the hard ridge under my jeans rubbing against her pussy.

“God, yes,” she moans, trying to wiggle against me. Reluctantly, I let go of her hips and lean back, looking down at her. All she has on is the jean skirt shoved all the way up around her waist, and her little gray boots.

Her hips rise up, trying to get back the friction I just stole from her. She makes a grab for me, wanting to pull me back down to her. I level her with a hard stare. She stops, her eyes widening before she drops back down onto her elbows.

My hand cups her pussy before I rub my thumb up and down her slit, loving she’s bare here. Nothing getting in my way of her.

“You shave this for me, little lamb?” I ask as my thumb stops on her clit. Her eyes start to fall closed as she enjoys the pleasure I’m giving her. Slowly, I rub back and forth, stopping when she doesn’t answer me. Her eyes snap open as she bucks her hips in search of my thumb.

“Answer me,” I growl. My own need is bearing down on me as I watch her, spread out on a bed beneath me, her wild curly red hair everywhere while she’s enjoying the pleasure I give her.

“Yes, I did it for you,” she finally admits, narrowing her eyes at me.

“But then you wore a skirt that showed everyone what was mine.” I cup her pussy again, not liking the idea of any

one else ever seeing it. It’s mine, and the thought of another man getting a look at her makes me want to spank her ass again.

“It’s your fault! I had to wear the skirt. So if you want to be mad at anyone—” Her words stop abruptly when my hand on her pussy rises and comes down, slapping her sex.

Her eyes grow big, and a gasp leaves her mouth. But she opens her legs even wider.

“I can’t believe you—”

I smack her pussy again. This time when my hand lands, her hips push off the bed, meeting me halfway. Then she falls back flat on the bed, a moan leaving her mouth.

Fuck. She likes it. I feel myself breathing hard, liking the sound of my hand hitting her warm skin. Thoughts of getting Dolly worked up and bending her over the nearest surface for a spanking to get her under control flood my mind.

“Say you’re sorry and you won’t do it again, little lamb.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she sasses, and my whole body locks up. Something passes between us. Something new and primal and right. She licks her lips. Fuck, that word kills me. I don’t know why, but when it comes from her mouth it does something to me. Something raw.

I reach for the buckle of my belt and pull it free, then go for the button on my jeans to free myself.

I wrap one hand around my cock and stroke it. Dolly’s eyes go there, and she licks her plump lips. Cum leaks from the head of my cock, ready to spill at any moment. It won’t take much. It never does with her.

“You want Daddy's cock, don’t you?” It isn’t a question. She wiggles her hips, and I look down at the wetness coating her pussy. She wants it bad. She’s just as needy as I am.

I rub the tip of my aching cock along her slit, hitting her clit and making her jerk. A pained sigh escapes her mouth, and I grunt with her.

“Please, yes, I want it,” she begs.