Riding West by Emma Wildes Page A

stroking the mounded flesh with his hands as he listened to the telltale sounds of enjoyment she couldn‘t seem to stifle. When she reached for his cock and circled him with her slim fingers, he felt a surge of sensation as he stiffened in response. As he lavished attention on her beautiful breasts, she brought him to readiness with light, sliding caresses, fondling his testicles until he groaned against her soft, satiny skin and moved between her parted thighs.
    She was wet and well-lubricated from repeated intercourse and his cock slid in easily, sheathed by exquisite tight heat. Never docile during intercourse—or out of it either—Celia moaned and opened wider, her hands urgent as they pressed the small of his back. “Yes, just like that…I want every bit of you inside.”
    Enraptured enjoyment flooded through him as he glided backwards. Through his teeth, he said, “Believe me, I want to give you every hard inch, sweetheart.”
    “Then do it,” she ordered, her throat arching back as he drove in deep, not shy in bed, not since that first time when he‘d taken her virginity at the cabin.
    Hell, even untutored and innocent, she hadn‘t been particularly shy in the act of sex.
    Marveling at the depth of his need even after so much sexual excess, his lower body thrusting with increasing speed, Parker heard his harsh breathing in staccato gasps as his orgasm rose. Celia clung to him, matching every possessive thrust with the acceptance of her body, her eyes darkened with passion.
    Her vaginal walls began to contract, gripping his surging cock. He knew so well the signs of her impending climax by now that it was easy to gauge exactly how to move and when he could let himself go. She began to shudder and moan his name and he put his arms under knees and lifted her legs, pushing in as deeply as possible.
    She climaxed in spectacular abandon, and his own release was ferocious and left him numb and shaken. When he collapsed to his side, he could barely speak, but managed to say between gasps, “Am…I…still…unromantic?”
    His wife laughed, a small musical sound that was entirely feminine. “Sex isn‘t romance, Parker.”
    “It is for men,” he argued with a small, teasing grin, pleasantly exhausted, his senses replete. “And tonight I think I‘ve been very romantic, Mrs. West. Besides, I think I just finished making up for your lost wedding night.”
    She snuggled up to his side. “Don‘t be so smug. I suppose we‘re even, though our notions of romance aren‘t quite the same.”
    The light, curvaceous feel of her body next to his felt as wonderful as making love to her. Knowing she was almost asleep already, he tenderly brushed a stray tendril of blond hair from her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Celia. I think I was born to fall in love with you, to be your lover, to take care of you and hopefully raise our children. I would sacrifice anything to keep you safe and give my life gladly in exchange for yours.”
    Her eyes, which had been half-shut, flew open. After a moment, she whispered, “Heaven help me, though I believed it was hopeless, I think you were just romantic, Parker West.”
    With a low laugh, he gathered her closer and drifted into a contented sleep.
    ———
    Rose gave her a mischievous smile as they walked along the path to where the barns sat by a small grove of cottonwood trees. “John brought me over. I haven‘t seen you since Parker stalked up onto the porch, tied you up, and rode off. He and John were supposed to ride out early but somehow your husband overslept.”
    Celia murmured, “We were up late…uhm…talking.”
    Her sister snorted in an unladylike sound. “Yeah, talking, I bet that‘s what you were doing, all right.”
    “Maybe not just talking.” Celia laughed.
    “I‘d say very little talking and more other things. Good heavens, why did you wait so long to marry him?”
    In retrospect, she had no idea. Defensively, she protested, “He didn‘t even