Page 16 of Auctioned to the Cowboy

Shay

The warmth of the fluffy duvet beneath me battles the chill seeping through the old ranch house, but it’s Henry’s presence that truly fills the space with heat.Snowflakes drift outside the windows, and I can make out his silhouette as he looms over me.

His hand drifts down my arm to take my hand in his, and he lifts it to his lips. “Shay, will you be my wife?”

I look into his eyes. “But I am your—” I stop. “Oh, you mean…”

Henry’s silver eyes hold mine, blazing with intensity. “Will you?”

“Yes, Henry. Now and always.” I know I’ve revealed too much, but I can’t bring myself to care. I want this. I want Henry, not only now, but for all our days. This ranch is my home now.He’smy home.

He presses a fevered kiss to my mouth, hot, soft, and demanding. It’s nothing like the kisses we shared by the barn or at the wedding earlier. This one consumes my breath and makes my heart thunder along with my nerves.

I shift restlessly on the bed, and he pulls back to look at me, his gray eyes tracing the lines of my face like they’re committing every detail to memory.

His hands move to the hem of my sweatshirt. His fingers are rough, calloused from years of work, but the way they graze my skin is achingly gentle. He pauses, his gaze flickering to mine, silently asking for permission.

I nod, breathless, and he pulls the sweatshirt over my head, tossing it aside. My sweatpants quickly follow, leaving me in only my bra and panties. His eyes darken as they roam over me, lingering on my breasts heaving against my lacy bra, the curve of my stomach, and my thighs. His hand trails up my arm and across my collarbone before settling at the base of my throat. The weight of his palm there is steady, as if he’s anchoring himself to this moment.

His hands move again, working the clasp of my bra with practiced ease, and when it falls away, his sharp intake of breath is a sound I’ll never forget. He cups my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples as his lips find mine in a kiss that’s both searing and tender.

With one hand, he slides my panties down my thighs, unwrapping me like a gift.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Love these big breasts and lush hips,” Henry mutters, his heated gaze taking in every abundant inch of me.

The words are heavy with sincerity, settling deep in my chest and warming parts of me I didn’t know were cold.

I have nothing to compare this to, but my nervousness suddenly falls away with his words. I remember the unkind commentsabout my weight growing up. I’ve always been unashamedly curvy, but those taunts still cut deep. But all of my father’s cruel words, all the hurts and slights in my past, no longer matter because lying naked in Henry’s arms feels honest and right.

I lose myself in him—in the way his hands explore, reverent and slow, in how he looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters. I can’t think, can’t breathe, except to whisper his name.

“Henry.” My voice catches as he sucks my nipple into his hot mouth.

He stands abruptly, shucking out of his clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Holy shit, I thought he was gorgeous fully clothed, but naked Henry is a sight to behold. I half expect a choir of angels to descend from above and sing Hallelujah. He’s all long lines and hard angles from the physical work he carries out daily. Broad shoulders, defined arms, thick, muscular thighs, and a smattering of dark hair across his chest that arrows down to his…

Oh, my. That happy trail should be lit up like a Christmas tree because beneath it is a gift far larger than I anticipated. I haven’t seen a cock in the flesh before, but if there were a world championship for what Henry’s packing, he’d take home the gold—and probably break a few records while he’s at it.

I know I’m blushing. My cheeks are on fire. His shaft arcs proudly away from his body, the tip shining with a bead of precum. My mouth waters with the need to taste him.

Clambering off the bed, I reach out, my fingers quaking as I grasp him firmly. I give him a few pumps, relishing the soft skin covering steely hardness. I glance at him, wanting to know ifI’m doing it right. He nods, his jaw tight, his piercing gray eyes locked onto mine.

I sink to my knees and brush my lips against his tip. He shudders as his hands fist my hair, guiding me but allowing me to explore. I trace my tongue along his length, savoring the tang of his skin, the pulse of his cock against my lips.

I slide my lips over him, taking him deeper, stretching my mouth around his girth. His low rumble of approval echoes around us, sparking a raw desire to drive him to the brink. My mouth and hand move in tandem, working together as his groans grow deeper. He looms over me, powerful yet trembling under the slickness of my mouth and tongue. His reaction ignites my confidence, urging me to please him.

Henry’s hips surge to meet my mouth, matching my pace. His pleasure fuels mine, encouraging me to take him deeper, to coax out more of those raw, guttural sounds that tell me I'm pleasing him.

The tip of my tongue teases and swirls, pressing into the slit at the end to taste him—a heady mixture of musk and man. I want to devour him, tattoo his taste into my memory, and drench every sense.

I suck harder, my cheeks hollowing, my tongue rippling and teasing along his length. His breath hitches, and his hips move faster as he fucks my mouth. It's intoxicating. Empowering. His ragged breathing tells me he’s getting close.

“Fuck, Shay. You’re driving me crazy,” he growls.

Hearing my name on his lips like that causes wetness to seep from my sex, slicking my inner thighs. I'm not just giving him pleasure; I'm dismantling him piece by piece, each deliberateflick of my tongue stripping away his control. I revel in the way he surrenders, his head tipping back, exposing the taut lines of his neck as tension coils through him, raw and unrestrained.

"Oh God, Shay," he groans.

I look up, my gaze trailing along the defined lines of his neck, the corded strength of his muscles, until it lands on his face. His eyes are shut, his features etched with pure, unadulterated bliss.

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