Cowgirls Don't Cry(82)

On the next upstroke, he brought that mysterious object up the center of her torso, between her cleavage, over the column of her throat to rest on her lips. She felt the stickiness of her juices, not only on her mouth, but in a trail from her chin to her bikini line.

Brandt growled in her ear. “Lick it.”


Jessie’s tongue darted out and she lapped up the taste of her own musky essence from the warm and rounded slope.

“Bite down.”


Her teeth sank in, and the sweet, earthy taste of pear juice burst in her mouth. A moan escaped as she sucked at the fruit, greedily biting off a chunk of perfect ripeness. The flesh nearly melted against her tongue. The fruit flowed down her throat as she swallowed, but more juice spilled from her lips and dripped over her chin as she stole another juicy bite. And another. And another.

Brandt plucked the fruit away, spun her around and fused their mouths together. The taste of Brandt exploded on her tongue, mixing with the sweetness of the pear and the hint of her own juices. He sucked at her tongue, licking the soft depths of her mouth, guiding them to a new level of lust just with his potent kiss.

And then he gently pressed that squishy, sticky fruit to the top of her pubic bone until pear juice trickled down her cleft in a syrupy stream and dampened her thighs.

Jessie gasped at the sensation, breaking the kiss.

Brandt growled, leaving sucking kisses on the sticky trail down her body. He fell to his knees and buried his face in her *.

“Brandt! Oh God.” Jessie’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the counter behind her as she attempted to hold on against his sensual assault.

Brandt’s thumbs pulled the skin back to expose her clit. He lapped the juices—hers and the pear’s—


like a junkie. Thoroughly tasting every inch of her while that rumbling noise in his throat that vibrated against her swollen tissues.

When he switched to those flickering butterfly licks, she was toast. Her body shook with every orgasmic pulse. She might’ve gasped. Actually, she might’ve screamed. But she mostly couldn’t hear anything over the blood pounding in ears that mimicked the throbbing goodness pounding in her groin.

It would’ve been embarrassing, how quickly she’d started to come after Brandt put his mouth on her, but the orgasm was so incredibly volatile that any lucid thought beyond Yes! Yes! Yes! didn’t register at all.

Only when Brandt started kissing her quivering thighs did she float back to earth. She peeled her lids open and peered down at him.

Maybe she expected he’d be munching on the leftover chunk of pear with a gleam in his eye. But he had an even wilder look to him.

Keeping his fiery gaze on her, he ditched his sweatpants and smothered her mouth in another controlling kiss as he brought them down to the floor.

There were no sweet words. No asking permission. As Brandt scrambled her brain with savage kisses, he settled between her thighs, hiked her hips up and plunged inside her.

His lower body pumped into hers, and he attempted to pin her arms over her head, but Jessie twisted free of his grip, digging her nails into his ass as her legs circled his waist. Keeping him exactly where she wanted him.

Brandt slammed into her harder. Pushed her higher off the floor. The kiss became impossible to sustain, given the ferocity of his thrusts.

She canted her pelvis, changing his angle of entry so his every plunge brushed her clit. She hissed,

“Yes. Like that.”


He grunted, flexing his hips with enough velocity they skidded across the linoleum.

Jessie knew he was close, knew she needed to send him over in order to reach that pinnacle herself.