Page 29 of The Cowboy's Redemption
The moon had crossed the sun’s path, drenching the world in pale shadow. A horse chuffed in the pasture, expressing contentment. An air of expectancy settled in. Her brain reassured her body that the payoff for patience was about to be worth it.
His smile grew so wide it threatened to outgrow his face. “Your wish is my command.”
“I choose option three, then,” she said.
He’d expected her to choose option two. She could tell from the way his thoughts regrouped on his face. He recovered quickly, however. His eyes promised payback.
“I can’t hold you and undress. I’ll have to put you on the honor system,” he said. “You can touch yourself if you want—but not under your clothes. Only on top.”
He took both of her hands and settled them strategically low on her belly, almost but not quite within reach of temptation. Soft fabric heated her palms as he showed her what he meant.
She arched an eyebrow. “This is your idea of dirty?”
Stars sparkled behind him as he rose and reached for his fly. “We’re still a long way from any dirty ideas I have.”
That was fine, because she had a few of her own. “Don’t take your jeans off just yet,” she said. His fingers paused in the act of unfastening the button. “Slide your hand inside your waistband. Pretend it’s my hand, if you like.”
He didn’t hesitate, which impressed and surprised her in equal amounts, but made a show of easing his hand into his jeans and under his shorts, then taking hold of himself. His eyes never left hers.
“Take off your jeans,” she said.
“Underwear, too?”
“Might as well.” So much for slow and admiring. She wanted to see him. She wanted to watch while he stroked himself, making note of the movements and rhythm he liked so she could replicate them when it was her turn to touch.
The boots and socks came off first, followed by the rest of his clothes. Then he stood, long-legged, lean-hipped, lazy eyes on her, and fisted an impressive length of rock-solid manhood—slowly at first, then faster and harder, until his breath turned all ragged and raspy. Her jeans grew damp to the touch. Her breath hitched. Her own fingers inched lower, imagining hers doing to him what she had him doing, until she was touching herself, too.
He kept their gazes connected. “I’ll be the first to admit I can’t take much more of this,” he said, his voice as raspy and uneven as his breathing, filled with humor and heat. He had one of those faces that perpetually smiled. “I’ve lost track of what option we’re on.”
“I’ll help you out. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m going to take off my clothes.”
She’d stripped before—but never by moonlight, or with this much hungry tension between them. She didn’t bother with buttons, but jerked her shirt over her head and dropped it to the ground, then kicked it aside. She peeled her boots and jeans off, leaving her standing in her bare feet on the blanket, and unfastened the scrap of a bra. She turned around so that Levi had a good view of the thin line of lace dividing her buttocks. She hooked her thumbs in the straps and slid them down her thighs, then kicked them off. They joined the pile of their mingled clothes on the grass.
She dropped to the blanket and leaned back on her elbows, bending her knees and parting her thighs. Levi remained standing, legs splayed, erection on proud display, upright and rigid and throbbing. She toyed with her breasts, just to see his reaction. “You promised me fast and dirty.”
“Position?” he inquired, so politely, while pumping himself with his hand, that she almost lost any right she might have to choose.
“Missionary.” For starters. No need to shock him just yet.
He went to his knees. Placed his hands on her knees and widened her legs. He touched the tip of his tongue to the inside of her thigh, tracking it higher, then thrust it inside her. She held his head, arching her back, drawing him deeper while he licked and tasted, thrusting with increasing urgency, until an orgasm she couldn’t withhold was mere seconds away.
He stopped. Withdrew. Leaned over her as she lay gasping beneath him, begging—demanding—he finish.
“Tell me what you want. How you want it.”
“I want you to—” She uttered a phrase Lady Dana would never have used.
“Not yet,” he said, arms shaking. “But soon.”
Using one hand as a guide, he placed the tip of his erection between her thighs and rubbed it against her without penetrating. She called him a name, which made him laugh. Then he thrust, deep and hard, leaving her gasping from how completely he filled her.
And somewhat shocked by her immediate reaction. Two strokes from him had her clutching his hips, urging him deeper, as the tremors began, and the world blew apart. A ragged breath and sudden stiffness informed her scattered brain that he’d reached the same state as hers.
He stayed inside her, pressing soft kisses against the side of her throat and stroking her hip, until, to her disbelief, she came again with his name on her lips.
She must have dozed off. When she opened her eyes, she was on top of him, with her face pressed to his chest, while they used the wide, Montana sky as a blanket and a mild breeze dried their skin. Three early stars winked their appreciation for the show they’d received.
“If you think this was dirty, then I have a few things to teach you,” she said, because she had to say something, andthank youdidn’t express what she felt. The attraction between them was high enough that finding sexual satisfaction together was a foregone conclusion.
