Page 75 of The Cowgirl's Secret Love
His words.
“Come on my cock. I want to feel you grab me tight.”
She didn’t need to come for this to be perfect, but she did. The explosion was unstoppable and inevitable because of the way he looked at her, the way he teased her exactly right. Because he knew her, he wanted her.
He cared for her.
Maybe even loved her.
Karen gave in to the demand, arching her back and calling out his name.
Finn grimaced, pushing her thighs apart farther, speeding up again. He pumped into her, thrusting madly. Every drive set off another aftershock, and she cried out over and over.
He stilled with his cock buried deep, his cry echoing off the walls. The ironclad grip he had on her thighs eased slightly. A little more. Finn gasped, drawing back slowly, pressing forward so she felt every inch.
He collapsed over her, elbows resting on the table, forehead against her body as he breathed heavily.
Quiet. Peaceful. Connected.
He pulled out, dealt with the condom, and was right back over her a second later before she’d had a chance to get cold.
“I missed you.” Finn spoke against her belly, kissing her softly, and for a moment, she was headed toward being a weepy mess again.
Then he blew a raspberry, and all bets were off.
She reached down to tug on his ears, and he wiggled out of her grasp. Karen curled her way upward, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed tight.
She kissed him. Long and lingering before moving far enough away so they could stare at each other. No words, because they didn’t need any.
What followed was laughter and kisses and a sweet time together until they ended up in the master bed. No more serious words, just two people getting to know each other all over again. Comfortable, quiet.
Intimate silence.
Karen woke in the middle of the night, the stillness broken only by Finn’s gentle snore. She leaned up on one elbow, the moonlight sneaking in the window just bright enough to let her examine him closely.
That night had not been what she’d expected. And yet, Finn had been the catalyst for change—that part she could have guessed.
Five years ago, they’d been together because they’d gotten along and they’d both had an itch to scratch. But the reason she’d fallen so hard in the end was because of more than chemistry and charm.
Finn Marlette was a good man.
A good man forher, she corrected mentally, because even as he’d been gentle tonight, he’d been blunt.
As she replayed conversations in her head, it became far too clear that he was right. Not much use in arguing about the fact horses liked her. She was good with them—damn good. If anything, she was overconfident in that area.
But even with that talent, she still didn’t expect people to take her suggestions seriously. That first day working with Zach—each time she’d offered up an idea, he’d nodded and moved to the next point.
She’d been floored to discover he’d actually taken her ideas and run with them.
Counterpoint to that, she didn’t always follow through when shedidhave a good idea—didn’t fight for what she really wanted.
She didn’t want to wake Finn while she pondered, but not touching him was impossible. She brushed the back of her fingers whisper-soft along his shoulder, sliding up to push back the hair on his forehead.
He smiled, still sound asleep.
Tonight’s discussion might have been a turning point, but she felt a little as if she’d gotten off the main thoroughfare and suddenly her GPS had gone silent.
Whatwereher goals?
