Page 68 of Kentucky Nights
He presses his body against mine, lifting my leg to hook it on his hip. He deepens the kiss just as the clouds open up. Thunder applauds when Kentucky thrusts against me, his denim-covered cock pressing against my clit.
A whimper flees me with every rough drag of jeans.
Rain begins to pour, soaking our clothes to our skin, and Kentucky never stops kissing me. His hand clutches my hip, using it as support to drive his hips. The girth of the crown rubs against my clit through my jeans.
His kiss becomes slick from the water, and somehow, even the rain tastes sweeter off his lips.
A growl from him travels down my throat and tingles my core. His claws hook around my shoulder, forcing his body harder between my legs. I cry out, the lightning cracking so loud, my climb to climax is silenced.
The ground becomes slippery; the dirt turns to mud and sticks to our clothes. I slide against the ground from Kentucky’s need.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He uses the hand that’s wrapped around my shoulder to close the distance between us. “I didn’t say you could go anywhere.” He curls over me, and yanks my head to the side to show my neck. “Right here.” His tongue licks the rain from my skin. “My mark will be here. Ruining you for any other man.” Kentucky sucks my earlobe between his teeth, the tease of his fangs has me parting my lips, allowing the rain to quench the dryness on my tongue. “Your future is mine.”
I slap my hand in a shallow puddle, dirt sticking under my nails. “Kentucky!” I cry out his name, the echo lost in the storm. Fireworks explode in my eyes, different colored spots dancing across my vision. This orgasm is different. I still feel like I’m pulsing, aching, a throb at my entrance for his cock.
“Druscilla,” he moans against my throat, his teeth pressing against my vein. “Dru.” He begins to tremble under me, and the harsh, monstrous growls take over every exhale. “Fuck. No one has ever made me come in my jeans like that before.”
“You came?” I ask while kissing and sucking on his neck.
“It’s you. Of course, I came.” Swinging me into his arms, he blurs us into the house.
We’re soaked. Dripping water onto the hardwood floors. Tossing me onto the bed, ruining the comforter with mud, he unbuttons his pants.
“Now, be a good girl and clean me before I make a mess again.”
I crawl across the bed and sit on my knees.
“Open.”
And like a good girl, I listen.
“You smell like death.”
“That’s not very nice, Romeo.” I am finally trimming his hooves. I’ve been distracted in the best way. I’m a day behind on chores, and I couldn’t care less. The cattle and Romeo are fine. There’s food. There’s water.
Dru has reminded me that the ranch doesn’t need to be my entire life. Yesterday proved that. I don’t think we left the bedroom. We laughed. We moaned. We napped. We fucked.
Not always in that order.
“I’m not trying to be nice, Kentucky. You smell like you’re dying. Why are you doing this to yourself? Mate her already. You’re already so close. I can smell it on you.”
I pick up his leg, bend his knee, press my thighs together to keep him in place, then snag the hoof pick from my belt. Romeo is really great about his pedicure. He never gives me a hard time.He knows it’s what is best for him. We didn’t think he needed horseshoes at first since he can heal, but we were proved wrong one day when his hoof cracked in half and it wasn’t healing.
I don’t think his healing applies to his hooves. We don’t know why. We have a theory that it’s because of the lack of blood circulation in the hoof itself. We might not ever know why.
Honestly, I think it helps bring purpose to me, and even if he won’t admit it, this basic need brings purpose for Romeo too. It’s hard to find what you have to have in order to survive after having these abilities to heal. This mundane task gives us that piece of humanity again.
“I’m fine, Romeo. You don’t have a thing to worry about. I’ll be okay.” I continue to pick away at the debris stuck in his hooves.
When I’m satisfied, I switch to the trimmer to shorten the hoof itself.
“Of course I worry about you. You’re my best friend. I don’t want you to die. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here.”
I stop mid-clip, a burning sensation spreads across my chest and makes its damn way to my eyes.
Clearing my throat, I start to clip again. “I won’t be going anywhere. I know it may seem like I am, but I’m not. I have a plan.”
“Care to share?”
