Page 51 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
She digs her heels into the couch, trying to ground herself, but I want her to come undone. “Let me hear you, baby,” I command, maintaining my pace.
“Fuck. Jace!” she screams, coming all over my mouth.
My fingers halt, but my mouth doesn’t. I keep lapping up at her juices, taking all she has to give, until she begs me to stop, pushing my head away.
“Good girl,” I praise, kissing her pussy before straightening up.
I strip, my cock springing free. “Ready for more?” I ask with a smirk, stroking my hard length.
“Yes, please,” she nods, even though she’s still panting from her previous orgasm.
Picking her up, I set her on the armrest, which is a bit higher, and stand in between her legs. I run the tip of my cock over her sensitive pussy, making her mewl. She’s soaking wet, so I slide in easily, both of us moaning at the explosive union. It takes everything in me not to come immediately.
She takes off the rest of her clothes, freeing her breasts, leaving her fully naked. She gives me the nod to start moving, and I do not hold back. Pushing in and out of her, I reach up to play with her breasts as well.
We establish the perfect rhythm, sounds of us fucking filling the room, not caring that anyone could walk in at any moment.
“Faster,” she pleads.
“My pleasure. Hands on your ankles and don’t let go,” I command.
She does so, and I increase my pace, her walls tightening around me.
“God, Tessa… you’re mine,” I growl, pressing myself harder against her. She bites her lip, grinding. I savor the tight, delicious heat, groaning as she gasps, watching me with fire in her eyes.
She trembles beneath me, moaning, and I can’t hold back. I shatter over her, groaning, losing myself completely as she tightens around me. I ride it out with her, slow and brutal until we’re both panting, sticky, and satisfied.
I collapse beside her, pulling her close, lips brushing her temple. “Damn… Tessa,” I murmur, voice rough, chest heaving. “You’re incredible.”
She nuzzles against me, satisfied, cheek against my chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she murmurs, smirking despite her flushed, messy state.
The party is long forgotten now—the laughter, chaos, balloons. They fade behind the steady rhythm of our shared heat and lingering touches. I let a slow grin tug at my lips, thinking of the tension we’ve held back for weeks, and how quickly it erupted, how inevitable it felt once we finally gave in.
And yet I know this changes things. Lines have been crossed, boundaries blurred. I don’t regret it, not even a little, but I need to navigate the aftermath carefully. Tessa and I are a storm, and I can’t let it consume everything else.
Still, for now, I let myself savor this—the quiet after the fire, the way her body molds against mine, the soft warmth of satisfaction lingering between us. And as I close my eyes, I make a silent promise: whatever comes next, I’m not letting her go. Not now. Not ever.
21
TESSA
A smile stretches across my face as I lean against the kitchen island, dressed in jeans and a soft flannel, watching Daisy pile strawberries on top of her oatmeal like she’s building a masterpiece.
“Are you sure you packed your toothbrush?” I ask, trying to sound stern.
She rolls her eyes, unimpressed by my tone. “Yes, Mom.”
She freezes, as if the word has slipped out by accident. My breath catches, just for a second, then I pretend not to notice and smile instead. “Then I guess you’re ready for our big adventure, Bug.”
Mom? That’s a big word, and a butt load of responsibility I’m not ready for or even want to consider, so I let it go, for my own peace of mind.
Daisy grins, looking relieved. “It’s going to be amazing. We’ll go hiking, there’ll be a campfire, we’ll roast marshmallows, and Mr. Landers says we might even see deer!” She rants on, nearly running out of breath.
With her excitement, you’d think she’s a city kid on her first outdoors trip, not a ranch girl who knows more about horses and cattle than Barbie dolls. But I’m happy that she’s happy.
“Calm down, sweetheart. It is going to be fun, but we need you well fed first, so finish your breakfast,” I demand softly.
She nods and shoves a mouthful into her mouth, giving me a thumbs-up. I chuckle as I walk over to the coffee pot to fill my travel mug with much-needed fuel for the day. It’s been two weeks since the pink hair fiasco, and Daisy is officially done with detention, so she will be joining her classmates on a two-day camping trip for her geography class. And because she wouldn’t be Daisy without a little mischief, the little rascal went ahead and volunteered me as one of the chaperones. By the time I found out, it was too late to back out.
