Page 31 of Jensen
Was it a matter of skill?
Or something else?
I sink back against the headboard and pull the sheet over my body. I can’t deny there’s something here, and that’s devastating, because I came here to seduce him, to use him, not to be raised from the dead after Leland did his best to put my spirit six feet under.
No, I can’t let this happen.
I’m here for one thing only.
He stirs, and I freeze. Then, to my horror, he goes hard, even though he’s still out cold. Without thinking, I yank the blanket over his waist. He startles, sitting upright, reaching for the bedside table.
“Sorry,” I gasp.
He stops, blinking. Then, he pulls his hand back and pushes himself upright. “What’s going on?
I shake my head. “Nothing. I just woke up.”
He’s looking at me kind of funny for a half second. My nipples go hard under his stare. He leans in and takes me by the waist, flipping me onto my back. His warm body slides over mine. All my desire from last night comes flooding back as his mouth grazes my throat. My hands come up, and he gathers them, pinning them to the pillow above my head.
“Stay where you are,” he says.
I keep perfectly still. He doesn’t break eye contact as he kisses between my breasts, pausing to flick his tongue over my nipples, then down to my navel. His mouth skims over my scar. My breath catches as he kisses it, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He just watches my reaction. Then, he goes lower, and my toes curl at the warmth of his tongue.
Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that I’m sore. I want him again.
“Goddamn,” he murmurs, voice husky. “You taste like somebody was fucking you all night.”
I touch his curly hair, smoothing it back. “Somebody was.”
He lifts his mouth. “Was he any good?”
I consider giving him a snappy response, but seeing him between my thighs, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes, I can’t.
“Yeah, he was really good,” I whisper.
He goes back down, pulling the sheet over his head. It’s sexy just watching him move beneath the fabric. I stretch my arms above my head, enjoying the slow rise of pleasure. This feels so luxurious, all I can do is gasp when I come and ride my pussy up against his mouth. He licks me clean and resurfaces, reaching for a condom on the nightstand.
He looks down at me, lids heavy, forearms flexing as he rolls the condom on. God, he is so effortlessly sexy. I really don’t think he knows it either.
“You gonna be a good girl and take it?” he says.
I roll my eyes. He lifts my thigh and spanks my ass, flipping me onto my belly. Then, he’s over me, hand beneath my hips as he lifts my body to work his cock inside. I’m so tender, I have to bite my lip. He sinks over me, letting me adjust.
“Fuck. Me,” he murmurs, rolling his hips.
I glance over my shoulder, enjoying the way his muscles ripple when he thrusts. He’s gentle this morning, like he’s savoring every stroke. When he’s done, he tells me to lie still while he gets a washcloth. Then, he wipes me down, rolling me on my back.
“You need to get to farm chores, cowboy?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “My horses and cattle have access to the outdoors, and they have water and hay. It’s pretty self-sufficient up here because I only have a couple guys helping me out.”
He gets up and throws out the condom, wiping himself off. I roll to my side to watch him pull on a pair of sweats. It’s a nice view, seeing him in the early morning sun.
He’s so backwoods pretty. Low slung pants give away a faint outline of his firearm underneath, all below a V that makes my mouth water. Shitty tattoos, a bruised thumbnail from smashing it in some scenario where he was probably shirtless and sweaty, tanned skin dotted with scars and hair.
I think I found out what my type is.
“You like coffee, baby?” he says.
