Steal Her Heart (Kaid Ranch Shifters #1)(33)

“Sounds like he’s a good friend.”

Bryson snorted. “A good friend for shootin’ me?”

“How much guilt would you carry the next day, the next month…the next year, if you slaughtered a herd?”

He rocked her gently back and forth, both of them still staring at the bright oranges and pinks that were slowly fading from the sky.

“I never thought of it like that.”

“You have friends.”

He laughed. “Woman, if I was being turned on a barbecue spit, them wolves wouldn’t piss on the fire to put it out. We’re a business arrangement. That’s all.”

“Mmmm hmm, well they showed up the other day and helped us get my equipment back.”

“Free whiskey and an adventure stealing shit doesn’t a friendship make with those boys.”

“Think whatever you like. You aren’t just a reminder of their brother, Bryson. They like you. And you care about them back. Tell me more.”

He nipped her cheek gently, held his teeth there for a couple seconds. “I’m rough.” He moved his bite to her ear and clamped down, dragging a groan from her throat. She dug her nails into his forearms and pressed back into him.

His dick was swelling against her back.

This was the part she’d been nervous about tonight. She was ready, and she hoped he was, too. Slowly, Maris turned and settled onto her knees, searched his gold eyes for any hesitation, but found none. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned the pearl snaps on his shirt, exposing more and more tattooed skin. His chest was lifting and falling faster, and he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Slowly, he leaned back on locked arms, but it wasn’t a rejection. “Do what you want,” he whispered.

Maris slipped the flats of her palms into his opened shirt and dragged her hands downward to the top of his six pack. And then she pushed the fabric back, off his shoulders and down his arms. He helped, releasing himself from it completely, and the second his hands were free of the sleeves, he leaned forward and cupped her neck, pressed his lips to hers. His hat bumped her head, so she pushed it off and set it to the side, ran her nails through his hair, loosening it. A soft rumble emanated through him, lifting chills on her skin.

Scooting closer, Maris rested her bent legs under his, scratched her nails down his beard gently. He gasped and broke the kiss, leaned back with his eyes closed. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

Down, down, she dragged her nails, down his chest, down his ribs, lifting gooseflesh as she went. She felt powerful. Testing, she squeezed his neck with one hand and rested the other right above his belt buckle.

Big, dominant man could’ve shoved her hand off his neck, but he didn’t. Instead, Bryson leaned his chin farther back and opened his eyes to show glowing gold slits. His slow smile was wicked as a sin.

“You like choking me?”

She shrugged and applied pressure. “I don’t know.”

“Does it make you feel powerful?”

“Yes,” she uttered. “Not because I could hurt you. I know I can’t. You could kill me with little effort. It makes me feel powerful that you allow me to put my hand here. That you let me do what I want.”

His lip snarled up and he leaned into her, grabbed her other hand and pressed it against his swollen cock, bulging through his jeans. “That’s power, too.” He rolled his hips forward, pressing her hand against him so hard. By the third rock against her hand, Maris was panting she wanted him so bad.

“Slow,” he murmured as she unfastened his belt buckle. “Ain’t no rush tonight, and if you push too fast, you’ll get me too rough. I want to ease you into being with me. Get you addicted so you won’t run.”

Every word was like gravel and silk against her ears. Rough sounded fun, but he was right. Slow tonight was best. She wanted him to get addicted to her, too.

He slid his hands under her shirt and gripped her waist, dragged her against his chest and kissed her again, angling his head deeply and pushing his tongue just past her lips, just a taste. Maris was lost, and the rest of the world faded to nothing. Outside of her, and the butterflies, he was the only thing that existed now.

Buckle loosened, she pulled his belt out of the loops and tossed it to the side, and Bryson paid her back by dragging her shirt up over her head and adding it to the pile. His eyes shone brightly as he dragged his hungry gaze down to her breasts heaving out of her red lace bra and back to her face. “Holy shit,” he said on a breath.

She couldn’t help her smile. That look on his face? That also made her feel powerful, and that was the point, right? The point of love? The point of falling? Each partner lifted the other up instead of cutting them down.

His skin was so smooth, so warm. The curves of his arms were so strong as she dragged her touch over them. She unfastened his jeans, ripped the zipper down slow, smiling against his lips.

“Sexy girl,” he rumbled and then kissed her again, rolling her onto her back. He stayed right with her, his chest pressed against hers, one strong hand under the small of her back, the other on the back of her neck. And then he was there, in the cradle she made between her legs, powerful body pressed against hers, hips rolling slowly. She could finish just like this; it felt that good to have him close. His dick pressed against the seam of her jeans just right, but it wasn’t enough.

“More,” she whispered, rocking her hips, pleading.