Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Stacey Espino Page B

corners of her closed eyes. He would have stopped, but they both knew she had to stop living in the past, sleeping with a dead man.
    Once he’d eased all the way inside her, he hooked his arms under her shoulders and held her close. “I love you,” he said, hoping the day came when she could honestly say it back. Maybe he was young and dumb, falling too hard and fast for Wendy, but he didn’t care. She’d awoken new feelings inside him, made him crave more than the status quo.
    Jackson felt torn, wanting to comfort her, but also wanting to continue what they started. When he began to pull out, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I like it. Just be patient with me.”
    His nerves eased, and her words gave him the permission he needed to truly let loose. He began to work his hips into a fast rhythm, pushing deep, holding her to his chest. Wendy marked her shift from caution into untamed abandon with her throaty groans. The sound fuelled him, brought all his muscles to life. He’d be able to go all night long if he hadn’t been so pent up. But one thing he’d learned was that a real man let his woman finish first. With Wendy, it would be a challenge.
    The warm breeze blew the scent of sweet alfalfa into the loft. His body was already sweat glistened, his skin sliding against Wendy’s breasts with each upward thrust.
    He wanted to tell her to hurry, that hanging on was killing him, but he wouldn’t mar her first encounter in God knows how many years. She needed this, however long it took.
    When she began to calm, her body pliant, he knew she was transitioning, her body preparing for the explosive moment to come. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, but he managed to hear her when she said, “Don’t leave me.”
    What did she think? He’d move on to the next town without a backward glance? Jackson may have been a drifter for most of his adult life, but it wasn’t out of love. It was out of honor, and respect for what his father had taught him. But he was dead, leaving behind a grieving widow, just like Wendy’s husband had done to her. He wanted to make a change, to give up his path in life for one good woman.
    “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.” He thrust harder, drowning in her heat, her scent, her touch. All his unfulfilled dreams of the past weeks paled in comparison to the real thing.
    She dug her nails into his back as she began to brace herself for climax. “Jackson…” He loved the sound of his name on her sweet lips. Bringing Wendy to her peak was what he was born to do. Her movements, sounds, and breathing all increased just before her pussy clamped down hard on his cock. He was thankful to finally be able to allow himself the release he’d been holding back. As the walls of her cunt milked him, he came hard. He groaned aloud as he spent himself inside her.
    “You’ve done me in, darlin’.” He rolled to his side, cringing from the shifting of his sore ribs. During sex he didn’t even remember his name, never mind his physical discomforts. Now they came back with a vengeance.
    “I knew it. You are hurt.” She rose to a sit, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, hitting the swell of her bare breast. With the sun shining down from the open loft doors, she looked like an angel, his angel.
    He shook his head. “You’re beautiful, you know that? I could stare at you all day and never grow bored.”
    “Are you blind, cowboy?” she teased, grabbing for her shirt. He stilled her, holding her wrist.
    “I’ve never seen more clearly.”
    He finally let her dress. She was a tough woman, not comfortable with emotion. He was afraid that even though she’d asked him not to leave her at her most vulnerable, she’d feel different now that the sex was said and done. They should be talking, planning, sharing, but instead he knew she’d only get to work on the farm and pretend nothing happened, just like after he’d made her come with his tongue.
    He