was swallowed by fear. How many men had told her this? For some unknown reason, guys fell for her easily, but they’d loved her for all the wrong reasons. Witt did to.
Wait—did he?
Looking up at his chiseled jaw and strong brow, she felt her resolve slipping. Maybe he could be the one. He was fun to be with, adored her son—and he’d even held her hair while she’d been sick. More than she could say for any of the males in her past.
His hardness jutted against her belly. If she stood on tiptoe, she’d be angled just right.
“You don’t have to say you love me, sweetheart. But I’d like to hear you say you feel something for me. Do you?” His breath tickled across her face—mint and man. She craved him more than any chocolate, cupcake or milkshake.
She was terrified to examine what she felt too closely. She’d given up trusting her instincts, but her gut said to give herself to Witt Dalton. “I do feel something.”
“All I needed to hear.” With that, he scooped her off her feet and claimed her mouth. She opened to him and their tongues met with greedy want. Need filtered into her system, along with emotion she couldn’t tamp down. She had no desire to try.
“I want you, Witt. All of you.”
“Try to stop me, sweetheart.” He strode toward the barn. She ran her hands over his warm, steely shoulders as she kissed his jaw and neck. He was salty and so good. Her pussy pulsated with his every step.
When he got her into the quiet of the barn, it was so pitch black, she had no idea how he could see. He stopped at a wall and she saw the faint outline of a door. “Open it,” he grated out.
It took her a moment to locate the handle and then she swung it wide. The inside smelled of fresh hay. He laid her on something soft.
“Why is there a bed here? Do you boys have trysts often?”
“Dunno what my brothers do, but I’ve never had a woman on this ranch, sweetheart.” He followed her down onto the narrow bed and pressed his forehead to hers. Holding such an intimate pose made her stomach flutter.
She arched and bit his lower lip. His growl reverberated all the way through the layers she wore. With painstaking slowness, he unzipped the barn coat and pulled her arms free of it. Then he set to work on her shirt buttons. When the cloth parted, he burrowed his face between her breasts. Kissing, licking. Every swirl of his tongue tormented.
He sucked her nipple through her bra, and she rocked into his erection. She needed to see him naked and touch every carved inch of him.
He wore no coat, obviously hardened to the night chill. She skated her hands over his shoulders then navigated his shirt buttons with shaking fingers and delved her hands against his warm chest.
He hissed a laugh. “Your hands are icy.”
“Someone dragged me away from the fire.”
“I’ll warm them up.” The promise lingered in his eyes as well as his words. He took her hand and moved it over his chiseled abs to the waist of his jeans. The head of his cock stretched the denim. She closed her hand around his length, and he groaned.
Throwing his head back, he let her rub him for two glorious strokes before he yanked her hand away. “I can’t last if you touch me like that. And I want to keep my promise to taste you.”
In seconds her boots were off, followed by her jeans. When he slid her panties over her hips and cupped her ass, bringing her to his hungry lips, she stopped thinking and could only feel.
Hot lashes of his tongue on her flesh. Running from bottom to top, tracing through her creamy folds. He licked and sucked her clit until it was stiff and throbbing. Then he released it and thrust his tongue into her pussy.
Her hips moved on their own, her short nails worked over his scalp as he drove her up the steep cliff of need. Staring down her body, she watched pleasure cross his face as he tongued a figure eight around her clit.
She wanted more—all of him. Too easily she pictured having this man for the rest of
Wait—did he?
Looking up at his chiseled jaw and strong brow, she felt her resolve slipping. Maybe he could be the one. He was fun to be with, adored her son—and he’d even held her hair while she’d been sick. More than she could say for any of the males in her past.
His hardness jutted against her belly. If she stood on tiptoe, she’d be angled just right.
“You don’t have to say you love me, sweetheart. But I’d like to hear you say you feel something for me. Do you?” His breath tickled across her face—mint and man. She craved him more than any chocolate, cupcake or milkshake.
She was terrified to examine what she felt too closely. She’d given up trusting her instincts, but her gut said to give herself to Witt Dalton. “I do feel something.”
“All I needed to hear.” With that, he scooped her off her feet and claimed her mouth. She opened to him and their tongues met with greedy want. Need filtered into her system, along with emotion she couldn’t tamp down. She had no desire to try.
“I want you, Witt. All of you.”
“Try to stop me, sweetheart.” He strode toward the barn. She ran her hands over his warm, steely shoulders as she kissed his jaw and neck. He was salty and so good. Her pussy pulsated with his every step.
When he got her into the quiet of the barn, it was so pitch black, she had no idea how he could see. He stopped at a wall and she saw the faint outline of a door. “Open it,” he grated out.
It took her a moment to locate the handle and then she swung it wide. The inside smelled of fresh hay. He laid her on something soft.
“Why is there a bed here? Do you boys have trysts often?”
“Dunno what my brothers do, but I’ve never had a woman on this ranch, sweetheart.” He followed her down onto the narrow bed and pressed his forehead to hers. Holding such an intimate pose made her stomach flutter.
She arched and bit his lower lip. His growl reverberated all the way through the layers she wore. With painstaking slowness, he unzipped the barn coat and pulled her arms free of it. Then he set to work on her shirt buttons. When the cloth parted, he burrowed his face between her breasts. Kissing, licking. Every swirl of his tongue tormented.
He sucked her nipple through her bra, and she rocked into his erection. She needed to see him naked and touch every carved inch of him.
He wore no coat, obviously hardened to the night chill. She skated her hands over his shoulders then navigated his shirt buttons with shaking fingers and delved her hands against his warm chest.
He hissed a laugh. “Your hands are icy.”
“Someone dragged me away from the fire.”
“I’ll warm them up.” The promise lingered in his eyes as well as his words. He took her hand and moved it over his chiseled abs to the waist of his jeans. The head of his cock stretched the denim. She closed her hand around his length, and he groaned.
Throwing his head back, he let her rub him for two glorious strokes before he yanked her hand away. “I can’t last if you touch me like that. And I want to keep my promise to taste you.”
In seconds her boots were off, followed by her jeans. When he slid her panties over her hips and cupped her ass, bringing her to his hungry lips, she stopped thinking and could only feel.
Hot lashes of his tongue on her flesh. Running from bottom to top, tracing through her creamy folds. He licked and sucked her clit until it was stiff and throbbing. Then he released it and thrust his tongue into her pussy.
Her hips moved on their own, her short nails worked over his scalp as he drove her up the steep cliff of need. Staring down her body, she watched pleasure cross his face as he tongued a figure eight around her clit.
She wanted more—all of him. Too easily she pictured having this man for the rest of
Similar Books
