Page 21 of Let Her Buck

“So do you,” I gasp, curling my fingers into his damp hair as he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until I’m writhing under him. “West…please.”

That low groan rumbles from his chest again, dark and primal. “You begging, sweetheart?

I nod furiously, too far gone to feel shame. “Yes.”

“Why? What do you want?”

“I need you inside me.”

His mouth crashes back to mine as he reaches between us, guiding himself to my entrance. He slides in slow, deep and thick, stretching me with exquisite, aching pleasure.

We both moan.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this…the feel of him filling me, claiming me, grounding me to this moment, this bed, this breathless new reality I never saw coming.

He thrusts once, twice, and then settles into a rhythm that makes my toes curl. It’s deep and delicious and so unbearably good I nearly sob his name.

He lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, hitting deeper, harder. I cry out, loud and unfiltered, and he eats the sound with another searing kiss.

“You take me so damn good,” he pants, moving faster, chasing that high like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. “So tight. So wet. You were made for me, Laney.”

Yes.

Yes, yes, yes.

I can’t form words anymore. Only gasps and moans and whimpers as he drives into me like he’s trying to carve his name into my soul.

And maybe he already has.

The pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside me, my body shuddering with every thrust until it’s too much and I snap, coming apart beneath him with a cry that rips through me like a storm.

West isn’t far behind. He curses low and filthy, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself one last time and lets go, groaning my name like a tortured beast.

For a long moment, we don’t move.

Just the sound of our breathing and the beat of two hearts thudding in sync.

Then he rolls to the side, pulling me into his chest, gently wrapping his arm around me. He kisses the top of my head, his body still trembling slightly with the force of what we just shared.

“I wasn’t done needing you,” I whisper into his skin.

He chuckles, low and rough. “Sweetheart…I don’t think I’ll ever be done needing you.”

And for the first time, I think that maybe that’s okay. Maybe this could be something more than just a night.

By the time the sun starts to creep through my curtains, I’m sore in all the best ways and completely ruined for anyone else.

West is still asleep, his arm slung around my waist, his face peaceful in the early light. I study him quietly for a moment, tracing the strong line of his jaw, the faint scar just above his brow. He must be almost thirty, but he looks younger when he sleeps. Softer.

I could stay here forever.

But reality has a way of crashing back in, doesn’t it?

We have to get back to the fair. His second ride is coming up and the whole town will be watching.

Including me.

He stretches with a groan and grins when he sees me still curled beside him. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

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