Page 13 of Claimed By A Cowboy
Wynn grins at me, turning to saunter away, still rubbing the sting away at her ass. My dick jerks in my jeans because I want to spank that plush ass again. I want her bare over my knee, my handprint pinking that ass.
God, this woman has me hog tied, and she doesn’t even know it.
When we get to the horses I chose for us, Wynn tucks herself to my side casually. I noted last night that I cannot keep my hands off her. And she doesn’t seem to mind. My arm falls over her shoulder and I drag her in front of me as I explain how to saddle the horses.
Wynn sighs and nods, listening to every word I say. Or I think she is listening. Until her ass starts swaying side to side. Dragging against my dick, which is getting thicker by the second. Bending my head, I talk against her throat, breathing in her citrus and coconut scent.
“Mmm, you smell good,” I murmur against her ear, my hand coming to wrap gently around her throat.
“Do I? I think that was the first thing I noticed about you. How good you smell. It kind of drives me nuts,” she admits, tilting her head as her ass continues to churn slowly.
“You drive me nuts,” I admit on a whisper, tired of pretending that nothing is happening between us. “You know that don’t you, honey?”
“Hmm, do I? I mean, no I don’t because that seems impossible to me. You, the most beautiful man I have ever seen, nuts about what? Me?”
“Yes, you. Everything about you,” I growl, my fingers pressing harder on her throat, feeling her pulse thrum. “Can’t you feel it, Wynn?”
Giving up being subtle, I brace my other arm over her front, locking her against my body. Her ass twists still, and there is no way she cannot feel how hard my cock is. I pant against her neck as she lets out a soft whimper, my fingers pressing too hard.
“Y-yes, I can,” she whispers, head falling back against my shoulder. “Don’t…I mean, you don’t have to stop, Wylder. I like it, cowboy.”
Groaning, I tighten my hold on her throat. Her hands come to my thighs, fingers clawing at me to steady her swaying body. Her hips circle and twist against my pulsing shaft. I can feel her heartbeat thumping against my fingers, faster, faster, matching the rhythm of my own heart.
I am about to rip off those tight jeans and bend her over right here in the stalls. My hand moves down her front, between her breasts, to the snap of her jeans. Her head nods and I groan again. I pull at the button, shaking hands fumbling with the zipper. I just get my hand inside, the tips brushing the lace of her panties when I hear thudding hooves.
In a flash I fix her pants, stepping back from her. Wynn whirls to face me, falling back against a stone pillar behind her. We stare at one another as we catch our breath. Just as we both open our mouths, Tye comes bounding in with two horses in tow.
“Morning folks,” Tye nods his head, eyes looking everywhere but at us. He knows he walked in on something, but he is not sure what. He shoots a glance my way and I see the small quirk of his mouth before he passes us, taking his horses with him.
“Come on, honey,” I husk, my voice raw and almost rusty.
We spend a good half hour saddling our horses. I show her how to quickly groom the horses and place the saddle pad. Wynn does everything twice, talking herself through it the second time. By the time we get both horses saddled, I believe she could do it on her own.
Before we head out for a ride, I pull out my pack of gum. I never take a horse out without some. Things come so easily between us, I don’t hesitate to tell her why I chew the gum.
“A long time ago, I rode bikes. Harley’s. We always smoked a lot of weed. Whenever I would ride, I would take a few drags. It made riding feel like flying. I had never been out of Fellow Falls so riding high made me feel as if I was seeing the whole world.”
“Now you chew gum, not smoke weed.”
“Now I chew gum,” I repeat with a nod, offering her some of the grape Big League. Soberly, she pinches some off, tossing it in her mouth. Standing close together, I feel as if I can breathe better with her so close. I never realized how hard it was to breathe before her.
“Will you tell me about this,” she whispers, reaching up to trace her fingers down my scar.
“I think I will, yeah,” I admit, surprising her and me both.
“Good, I want to know. Later, we have time. Now, let’s ride some horses, cowboy.”
Helping her up onto her horse, I nod. Time. We don’t have a lot of time left. She and the others paid for one night with us. Looking up at her sitting on that horse, I make a decision. I am going to give her a night she will never forget. One that I won’t forget either. A night I can go back to whenever I feel alone. Whenever I am missing her.
Climbing on my horse, I take the reins of her horse, leading them away from the barn. I head away from the ranch, taking us along a winding path towards the Rolling Hills. A creek runs through the hills, and I aim us that way.
As we ride, we talk softly, as if sharing secrets. She tells me about all of the places she has seen. Brazil. Germany. Paris. Places where she could get lost in the culture and forget she was so alone.
“When I was in Paris or Milan, I was alone. But sometimes, I could stop feeling lonely. It never lasts long. I suppose that is why I keep going.”
With the sun sinking into the horizon, I slow us to a stop near the water. I am humming with the need to touch her. To tell her every little thing about me so she will do the same. I want to know it all.
I want to be the one who ends her loneliness.
