Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10) - Page 36/87

She shivered.

“Now that’s the kind of shiver I like,” he murmured. “I want you. You ready or do I need lube?”

“I’m ready. Are you ready?”

Brandt answered by sliding into her slowly to the hilt. He continued to pepper warm, soft kisses across the slope of her shoulder.

She savored the sensation. Nothing in the world compared to this heat and fullness and connection.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.”

“I could spend hours kissing every inch of your skin. Next time, I will.”

She turned her head and looked at him when she noticed his body vibrated. “Are you still cold?”

“No.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“Because I’m tryin’ not to rut on you. I’m not feelin’ real…gentlemanly, if you wanna know the truth.” His lips tickled her ear. “I know this is our first time but it doesn’t change my body wantin’ to f**k you hard.”

That admission caused a gush of moisture to flood her sex. She moaned.

He sucked in a swift breath. “The thought of me f**king you hard makes you wet?”

“Everything you’ve done to me so far makes me wet.”

“Reach your arms above your head.”

Jessie pressed the side of her face into the mattress as she gripped the rungs on the headboard.

“Look at you, so goddamn sexy stretched out like that.” His calluses scraped her skin as he swept his hands down the length of her back to circle her hips. He pulled out and slammed back in quickly.

She hissed, “Yes.”

In this position, every time he thrust, the flannel sheet abraded her ni**les. The simple eroticism of Brandt’s sure and steady movements as his c**k tunneled in and out of her pu**y forced a whimpering sigh from her lungs.

“So tight. God that’s good. Not gonna last.”

She closed her eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over her, sensations exclusive to sex; the rhythmic squeak of the bed, harsh male breathing on her back, rough-skinned hands gripping her hips, the heat, wetness, the sounds of their body parts meeting, the friction of the sheets on her knees, elbows and ni**les.

But it was more than that. And she couldn’t find the right words to explain it because the push and pull lulled her to a floaty plane where need and satisfaction were in perfect balance.

He plunged faster, muttering, jarring Jessie from her fog of pleasure. As soon as she felt his c**k jerking against her inner walls, she bore down on his shaft, earning a holy f**k and then another groan.

Followed by another louder holy f**k and another longer groan.

Then his stillness.

Between panting breaths, he said, “Jess. I know…you didn’t…”

Brandt pulled out and flipped her onto her back, imprisoning her arms above her head. He sealed his lips to hers, as he slid his length of his shaft along her cleft, rubbing the rim of his cockhead directly on her clit.

Oh. Wow. This was something new for her, but Brandt knew exactly what he was doing. He skipped the gradual buildup, going straight for the high point. With his relentless attention, she ripped her mouth free from his, unable to breathe or gasp or even whimper as the orgasm pulsed in short, intense bursts and he rode every wave of it with her.

After her brain clicked back on, she peeked at Brandt. “What?”

“I could get very used to watching you come.” He kissed her. Sweetly, tenderly, but with the hunger that let her know he wasn’t done with her. “Regrets?”

“Not a single one.” She twisted her wrists as a hint for him to release her.

“Good.” He pushed up. “Are you sore?”

She said, “No,” a little too quickly.

His eyes narrowed. “Dammit, if I was too rough on you—”

“I would’ve said something. I’m not fragile, Brandt, remember that.”

“You’d say that even if you were bleeding, Jessie.”

Sometimes it surprised her how well he knew her.

“I need a drink,” he said rolling off the bed. “You need anything before we go for the round two?”

“Round two?”

“Uh-huh. Because we’re just getting started.”

Chapter Ten

Brandt gulped two glasses of water in the kitchen and took a minute to grasp the situation.

Holy hell, he’d just had sex with Jessie.

Jessie.

It boggled his mind.

Not only that, she’d initiated sex.

Not only that, she hadn’t wanted gentle lovemaking—she wanted to be f**ked. Hard.

Not only that, she hadn’t balked when he’d called her on her bravado, pushing her to put her money where her mouth was.

Holy hell, talk about a mouth that could own him body and soul. How he’d managed to hold out for more than fifteen seconds when those soft, warm lips circled the base of his c**k while she sucked his shaft also boggled his mind.

How he’d managed to keep his cool when he got his first taste of her pu**y was another miracle.

Because damn, she’d been so wet that he could’ve stayed buried between her thighs, licking away that sweet juice, feeling her come against his mouth, all damn night.

Brandt’s mental play by play fired his blood and he knew he’d have Jessie at least one more time tonight. Maybe in straight missionary position.

Boring. Don’t you want to blow her circuits with your sexpertise? Show her every position you’ve ever tried and some you’ve only seen in  p**n ?

Hell yeah. No. Hell no. That cocky attitude made him sound like…Luke, actually. He never wanted the comparison, especially not from Jessie. Not ever.

He could admit he’d taken her from behind for their first time because he worried she might whisper Luke’s name in his ear during a moment of passion. Maybe he feared he’d see regret or sadness in her eyes.

But he’d pushed aside those worries when the primitive side of his brain seized control and he flipped her on her back, just to see the look on her face when he made her come.

A look he couldn’t wait to see again.

He refilled the water glass and he walked to the bedroom. For some reason his heart sped up and he lingered in the doorway. Had he left her alone too long? What if she’d fallen asleep?

“Brandt?”

He found her resting on against pillows propped against the headboard with the comforter tucked beneath her armpits. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.” She drank half before handing the glass back. “Did you check on Landon?”