Cowgirls Don't Cry(61)

Please don’t say stop. “What?”


“Hurry.”


His cock slapped his belly before he impatiently shoved it between her legs and impaled her with one greedy push.

Her full body quiver was followed by a low-pitched, “Yes.”


Brandt curled his hands over her hips and pulled her back, completely controlling her movements. His pelvis smacking her ass made a discordant slap slap slap sound that was almost as satisfying as Jessie’s guttural moans bouncing back to him.

He reached around until his finger breached the soft nest of curls, gliding down to where their bodies were joined at the mouth of her sex. Then he slid his wet finger back up her slit to stroke her slippery nub in a gentle motion that countered the ferocity of his cock surging into her. But in this position he couldn’t get deep enough. He widened his stance, but his strokes became even shallower, so he stopped moving.

Jessie turned to look at him. “Brandt? Why did you—”


“I need more of you. Lean back.” She emitted a shriek when he lifted her, balancing her ass on his pelvis like she was sitting on a chair. “Tuck your feet around the outside of my boots.” Soon as she did, they both groaned, because damn, that one little change immediately brought him deeper. He angled her body forward, flattening her palm on the wall, wrapping her left arm behind his neck before he slapped his left hand on the wall across from hers. With his chest plastered to her back, he gritted out, “Hang on.”


Fucking her this way was a rush, not only because of the slant and position of their bodies, but because there was no finesse. No sweetness. Just desperation. Just need. His hips bucked as he kept his free hand cupped over her mound to tease her clit. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of Jessie pressing back against him as he pressed into her tight heat. Knowing there was nowhere on earth he’d rather be. Knowing her acceptance of this side of him would only cement his determination to have her as his.


He rocked into her, letting that humming greed for release amplify until they were both panting.

Sweating.

When she rolled her hips side to side, he knew she teetered on the brink. For all his blustering about using her hard, he wouldn’t ever deny her an orgasm.

He whispered fiercely, “Give it to me.”


“Touch me. God, please…”


Brandt separated her * lips with his fingers and flicked his middle finger over the responsive flesh until he felt her clit expand. “Squeeze me harder. Yeah, like that—”


Before he finished speaking she unraveled. Her ass cheeks clenching against his groin, her cunt a vise-like grip around his cock, her clit pulsating beneath his finger, her nails digging into the back of his neck, her passion-dampened skin rubbing against his wherever they touched. She moaned his name, over and over. His name. No one else’s.

When the word mine flashed behind his lids, he lost it. Fucking her with fast jabs, slamming home with every stroke. Holding his breath until he was woozy. Heart thundering, blood blazing, skin slicked with sweat, every muscle coiled tighter and tighter until that perfect moment when everything unwound.

He shouted as his cock emptied in almost violent pulses, no coherent thoughts registered beyond the words again, again, again. Nothing in the world existed but the connection of their bodies locked together.

Then he felt Jessie lightly scraping her teeth along the rigid line of his jaw.

His grip on her increased—mentally and physically—he never wanted to let her go. “I…Wow. I’m a little out of it.”