Page 13 of Mountain Rancher

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me you don’t want this.” His voice is a low growl. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

I can’t say it. Can’t lie. Not to him. Not now.

He sees the answer in my eyes and captures my mouth again, more demanding this time. His hand at my back slides around to my stomach, then slowly upward until his thumb brushes the underside of my breast. Even through my bra, the contact sends lightning through my body.

I arch into his touch, shameless with need. It’s been so long—too long—since anyone has touched me like this. Since I’ve felt this alive in my own skin.

His mouth leaves mine to trail hot kisses down my neck. I tilt my head to give him better access, and my eyes flutter closed as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below my ear.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he murmurs against my skin. He finally cups my breast fully, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric of my bra. I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

“Don’t.” He presses another kiss to my neck. “I want to hear you.” He moves his other hand to the button of my jeans and pauses there. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He makes quick work of the button and zipper, then slides his hand inside, over my underwear. Even this light touch makes me tremble.

“Christ, Abby,” he groans when he feels the dampness there. “You’re soaked.”

I should be embarrassed, but there’s no room for shame in the inferno he’s building inside me. His fingers press more firmly, and when he rubs me through the thin cotton, my hips buck involuntarily.

His mouth finds mine again as he slips his fingers beneath the elastic and finally touches me where I’m aching for him. I gasp at the contact and clutching at his shoulders.

He pulls back just enough to watch my face as he slides one finger through my folds, exploring, teasing. “This all for me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

I try to answer, but he chooses that moment to circle my clit, and all that comes out is a strangled moan.

He smiles, satisfied, and continues his torturous exploration. Just when I think I might explode from the tension building inside me, he slides one finger inside me. The invasion is so good, so right, that my inner muscles clench around him greedily.

I try to move my hips to take him deeper, but his other hand holds me firmly in place. “Easy,” he says, withdrawing slightly. “We’ve got time.”

“Hunter, please,” I gasp and reach for him.

He stills his movements entirely, and I whimper at the loss. “Please what, Abby?” His eyes hold mine. “Tell me what you want.”

I bite my lip, suddenly shy despite the fact that his hand is literally inside my underwear.

His expression turns knowing, almost predatory. “You’re going to make me earn it, baby, is that it?”

The endearment, so foreign on his lips, sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I can only nod.

“I promise you, I will,” he says, and slides a second finger inside me.

The stretch is exquisite and pushes me right to the edge of too much. When he curls his fingers, he finds that spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. His thumb returns to my clit, circling with just the right pressure.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower. “So wet for me. Been thinking about this for years, Abby. How you’d feel around my fingers. How you’d taste on my tongue.”

His words are as much a caress as his fingers. They push me higher, make me wetter. I’m rocking against his hand now, mindless with need.

“That’s it.” He increases the pressure, the speed. “Take what you need. Show me how you like it.”

I’m so close I’m teetering on the edge of something massive. He pumps his fingers into me, his thumb relentless on my clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming as they push me toward a cliff I’m desperate to fall from.

“You gonna come for me?” HIs voice is strained with his own need. “Let me feel it, Abby. Let me feel you come on my fingers.”

His words push me over.

The orgasm crashes through me, wave after wave of pleasure so intense I have to bury my face in his shoulder to muffle my cries. My inner muscles clamp down on his fingers as they pulse with each aftershock of pleasure. He works me throughit, gentling his touch as the waves begin to recede, until I’m a boneless, trembling mess in his arms.

Just as I start to come back to myself, I hear the sound of footsteps at the barn entrance, followed by the rustle of bags.

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