Page 81 of My Cowboy Trouble
"So ready for me," he murmurs, his fingers working me with devastating skill. "Been thinking about this, haven't you? About what it would be like with me?"
"Yes." The word comes out as a gasp as he hits exactly the right spot. "God, yes."
"What did you think about?"
"Your hands." I'm barely coherent as he continues his assault on my senses. "How they'd feel. How controlled you'd be. How you'd make me wait."
"I'm done making you wait." He positions himself atmy entrance, the head of his cock nudging against my wetness. "And I'm done waiting."
He slides into me slowly, inch by inch, giving me time to adjust to his size. He's bigger than I expected, stretching me deliciously, and when he's fully seated inside, we both groan.
"Fuck, you feel good," he breathes, his hands gripping my hips. "Better than I imagined."
"Move," I demand, pushing back against him. "Please, Trent, I need you to move."
He starts slow, controlled even in this, but I can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding himself back. It's still so very Trent, this measured approach to losing control.
"Let go," I tell him, reaching back to grab his wrist. "I'm not going to break."
That gets him completely. His control shatters, and suddenly he's driving into me with a desperation that matches my own. The workbench creaks under our movement, tools rattling, but neither of us cares. All that matters is this—the slide of skin against skin, the sound of our breathing, the way he fills me with each thrust.
"Yeah," he pants, one hand tangled in my hair, the other still gripping my hip. "Dreamed about having you like this."
"Tell me," I gasp, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Tell me what you dreamed."
"About making you mine. About hearing you screammy name. About fucking you until you forget every other man exists." His rhythm falters as he speaks, and I can tell he's close. "About making you stay."
"I'm here now." I turn my head so I can see his face, see the raw need there. "I'm yours now."
"Mine," he agrees, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Fuck, Kenzie, I'm?—"
"Come for me," I demand, tightening around him. "I want to feel you come inside me."
He breaks with a shout, his body going rigid as he empties himself inside me. The feel of him pulsing, the sound of my name on his lips, sends me over the edge too. I come with a cry that echoes off the tack room walls, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash over me.
We stay like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, his body covering mine protectively. I can feel his heart hammering against my back, can feel the slight tremor in his hands as they smooth over my skin.
"That was..." he starts, then trails off.
"Incredible," I finish for him.
"I was going to say life-changing, but incredible works too." He presses a kiss to my shoulder before slowly withdrawing from me. "Are you okay?"
"Better than okay." I turn in his arms, studying his face. The careful mask is back in place, but I can see cracks in it now. Vulnerabilities he's trying to hide. "Are you okay?"
"I will be." He helps me straighten my clothes, his movements softer now. "Once I figure out how to function again."
"I think you’ll be fine."
"Oh year?" He's already retreating, I can see it in his eyes. The walls going back up, the distance reasserting itself. "This complicates things."
"Everything's already complicated, Trent. This just makes it complicated in a different way."
He steps back,running a hand through his hair, and I watch him transform back into the controlled ranch manager. It's like watching him put on armor, piece by piece, until the man who just made love to me like his life depended on it is hidden behind layers of responsibility and restraint.
"We should get back to work," he says, his voice carefully neutral. "The cattle need to be moved to the south pasture."
"Trent—"
