Page 103 of Ride the Sky

He grins, hands on my hips. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking sexy when you boss me around.”

Then I freeze.

“How?” I ask, glancing at the bed over my shoulder. I’m not sure about the physics of it all, how my leg will cooperate, but hell if I’m not going to try. It’s been a month and a half. If I can get back in the saddle, I can get back in the bedroom.

Wyatt’s brow is furrowed in worry then, eyes locked on mine, he says, “I have an idea. It’s crude, it’s rough—”

I bare my teeth in a grin. “Let it rip.”

At first, I’m not sure what he’s doing, but then he’s spinning me around and pressing me up against the wall. Delight crashes over me. I’m the kind to take the reins in every situation. Except with Wyatt in the bedroom. One place I can let my guard down and let him take charge.

He catches the inside of my thighs and pushes them out wide, but gently. Pins me there. My breath kicks up as his big body covers mine. Massive. Towering. Protective.

“I’ve got you, cowgirl,” he grits out. “Won’t hurt you, Fallon,”

My palms fan out on the wall. “Never.” No doubt. Not with Wyatt.

Big hips crowding my thighs, Wyatt leans down over my shoulder, so close, our breaths become one. “You know it fits. Fits so good, baby.” Slowly, he fills me with his thick cock. Inch by inch.

I gasp. Trembling, I rest my cheek against the wall. “Wyatt…”

“You can take it, cowgirl.” His large palms settle next to mine. Another inch. The thick rawness of him makes me whimper. “Open those pretty thighs and show me how well.”

“Yes,” I gasp. My drenched pussy clenches around every great inch of him. Tight, holding him there. I feel so full of him, I ache.

Fully inside me, Wyatt thrusts his hips.

We both groan at the same time.

“Christ,” Wyatt says through clenched teeth. “It’s been three years.” He sounds angry, tormented. He drops his mouth to my shoulder, sweeping a soft kiss over my skin. “Three years since I’ve seen your body. Since I fucked you.” A shudder wracks him.

Breathless, I start to move. I work my hips, around and around. Heated and feverish and fucking. “You missed me?” I purr.

“Baby, I fucking ached for you.”

My breath catches.

Wyatt rears back, pulling out and then pounding into me hard enough to draw a cry from my lips. “Gorgeous,” he drawls. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, cowgirl.”

I throw my head back. Wyatt grips my hair with his fist and holds on as I pump my lower body. Panting, Wyatt drives his cock deeper into me. It feels good. Full. Like some empty void being filled.

Eight weeks. Eight weeks of being stagnant, and this feels like the first spark of light in my life.

“Faster,” I gasp. “Faster.”

Taking control, taking the work for both of us, Wyatt rocks his hips. Inch by inch he slips out then thrusts back in so hard I gasp. My pussy aches, my thigh trembles, but I love the pain. Relish the pain. Because pain means I’m alive. Pain means I can still do anything.

My eyes flutter shut. I feel the rasp of his breath, the way he holds me as he fucks me hard. His big hands on my hips, his mouth on my throat.

Wyatt’s breath seizes. “Fuck, Trouble.” Every muscle in his body tenses. “Fuck, baby.”

“Yes,yes.”

“Tell me you forgive me.” His voice is strangled. “Tell me, Trouble.”

“I forgive you,” I whisper. I should play it tough, make him work for it, but tonight, I can’t. Every ounce of anger is gone thanks to Wyatt’s dick. My head falls back against his chest, giving me a glimpse of his face. Wild eyes, tight jaw. “I forgive you.”

His gaze darkens. “Again,” he rasps. His hand moves to my throat.

---