Cowgirl Up and Ride (Rough Riders #3)(70)

His dark blue eyes narrowed. “That’s one.” He looped her wrists with baling twine and fastened it through a rope pulley above her head, which was used for loading bales.


Cord’s show of domination made the inside of her thighs moist, her sex ached for the attention of his fingers or his mouth or his cock.


He ripped open her blouse and unhooked her bra. Stripped off her shorts and underwear. He leisurely traced the contours of her body from the valley of her breasts straight down to her slit. Although his mouth never touched her, his hot breath drifted against her damp skin. “You like this. My sweet angel has a devilish streak, huh?”


“Yeah.”


“Good to know. ’Cause you’re dealin’ with the devil himself right now, baby doll.”


Cord unbuckled his belt. “Such a pretty picture you make.” He released the zipper on his jeans a tine at a time.


The sound of his buckle jingling as he worked his jeans down his thighs drove her wild. No other noises existed. Nothing existed but this man and her burning need for him.


Her nipples were hard as cherry pits and her whole body quaked. “Please.”


“Please what?”


“Please touch me.”


“No.”


“But—” Double crap.


“That’s two. And trust me, I am keepin’ track.” Cord fisted his hand around his cock and stroked himself with more force than she’d dared try.


She rubbed her thighs together, searching for any kind of friction. “It doesn’t hurt when you pull hard like that?”


He grinned. “Nope. You are such a curious little kitty-cat. Have you thought about jackin’ me off?”


Yes. “No.”


“Liar. I jacked off last night while I was havin’ you as my midnight snack.”


“You did?”


“Yep. You weren’t next to me this mornin’ when I woke up with a dick hard enough to break concrete, so I had to whack off right there on the sheets that smelled like you.”


Something shifted between them—maybe the balance of power, maybe a sense of inevitability.


AJ locked her eyes to his. “Enough teasing. Either get over here and f*ck me or let me go.”


“Mmm. This kitty-cat has claws?”


“This * has an itch and if you ain’t up for scratching it right now, Cord McKay—”


He lifted her, pressed her knees wide against the partition, and slid into her in one fast stroke.


“Yes. Oh yes.”


Cord buried his face in her neck, withdrew and plunged in again. And again. He changed the angle by bending his knees, and clamped his fingers on her butt, pistoning his hips fast as a jackhammer.


AJ twisted her body, trying to grind into his pelvis, wishing she had the use of her hands.


“Hold still,” he growled.


“But I need—”


“That’s three. What you need it to not get slivers in this sassy ass. We are doin’ this the way I want, AJ.”


“Please.”


He never moved his head, never missed a stroke when he said, “No.”


She circled her legs around his waist and jerked him closer. Sweat trickled between her breasts. The hair on the back of her neck lifted. Every inch of her skin tingled. All that energy shot straight to her core and the orgasm blindsided her.