Page 87 of Nine Month Contract
…rescuing my chickens.
I’ve never wanted him more.
Without a word, I reach up and grab the collar of his damp jacket and pull him down to me. Our lips connect, and he makes a gruff, surprised sound before submitting to my will and kissing me back. He walks us backward, taking over the kiss as he presses his hands against the red barn, caging me in as his tongue thrusts deep into my mouth.
He pulls away for a second, his voice hoarse as he says, “I’m filthy.”
“I don’t care,” I gasp, out of my mind with lust. I grab his neck and pull him back to me, desperation throbbing in my groin.
He moves his hands off the building and grabs my backside, squeezing me harshly and likely coating my ass with muddy handprints. The thought of it thrills me as I lift my leg and squeeze him into me, gasping into his kiss as the thick ridge of his erection pressesinto me. He grinds my ass into him, putting more pressure between us, and his denim catches on my clit, stoking the ache between my legs.
Maybe it’s the hormones, maybe it’s the sound of the rain on the tin roof, maybe it’s the way the mountain seems so fresh and new after a storm. Or maybe it’s this selfless, gruff, thoughtful man ravishing me as if I’m everything he wants and needs. But I’m raw and spent, and I want to chase this comforting feeling of hope he’s blossomed back inside me.
Fuck our sundown rules.
Wyatt’s hand slides up the side of my shirt, cupping my breast over my bra. He growls into my lips before tearing away from me to drop his head between my breasts. He yanks the cup down and squeezes my flesh before his lips wrap around my nipple and suck deeply.
“Wyatt,” I scream his name, feeling unhinged being out here in the open like this with the rain pounding down above us.
I fork my fingers into his damp hair, squeezing the short tendrils for balance as I press him into my chest. The whiskers of his trim beard send a flurry of heat to my center, and I feel my panties dampen instantly.
“God, I can smell your arousal,” he purrs into me, and I feel equal parts embarrassed and turned on.
No shame.
“I’m soaked for you,” I cry out, my hips undulating on his thigh, desperate for more.
His voice is raw when he states, “I have to be inside you.”
He yanks his coat off like a madman and drops it on top of a bale of straw next to the building. He turns back to me, and before he can say anything, I shove him down to a sitting position.
His pupils dilate as he watches me kick out of my boots, jeans, and panties until I’m left standing there, half-naked in the pasture enclosure, mountain trees and storm clouds swirling behind me.
Damp straw sticks to my feet as I climb onto his lap, fisting his silky, hard length in my hand and positioning him between my folds. Our foreheads press together, our breaths hot on each other’s lips as I notch his tip at my center and sink down on top of him. I mewl likean animal as I take his fullness in as deep as I can while his fingers dig into my hips.
Once he’s fully inside me, I arch back and ride him, relishing in the tightness, the fullness…the absolute maximum capacity this man’s cock takes up inside me. It feels so good. I already dread his absence. If it were normal to walk around with him inside me all day, I probably would. I would get a mold of his cock and just hold him there for safekeeping because the pleasure he brings me when he touches my womb, my insides, when he thrusts up into the depths of my soul that is my innermost body…it is life-changing.
His hands slide under my shirt to rub over my chest, ribs, and belly as I move myself on top of him, gyrating my hips over and over. “Every part of you feels so good it hurts,” he says with a groan before he grips my neck to pull me to his mouth. His tongue is aggressive and vengeful as his fingers slide around my throat to squeeze the roots of my hair at the nape, causing chills to cascade from my head to my toes.
“I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he husks against my lips, and my whimper is inhuman. “Do you like that, Lucky? Do you like the thought of me fucking you like an animal outside in the dirt like this and spilling my seed into your greedy little cunt?”
“Yes,” I cry out, his dark voice pushing my orgasm upward as I grind down on him.
“Do you know what it does to me to know you’re carrying my baby inside you?” He bites his lip, his eyes reverent on me as his hands cascade over my stomach and tighten the shirt around my middle. His fingers tease the edges of my belly button. “You have a piece of me inside you, and I still want more of you. I can’t get enough.”
“Wyatt.” I say his name like a prayer because he is a god to me right now. The hot air exchanging between us causes steam to rise up around us under this tin roof. “I’m going to come.”
He moves his hand from my belly and slides it down between us, rubbing firm circles over my clit. I grip his shoulders harshly, holding on to him like I’m swinging on a rope over a canyon. With a sharp burst inside me, I freeze, my entire body going stiff as my muscles quake around his erection, my insides convulsing even more when Ifeel him empty himself inside me, his semen mixing with my own release like rain on the mountain. It’s beautiful.
My heart thunders with the storm as I nuzzle my face into Wyatt’s damp neck, breathing in the scent of sweat, nature, and him. Just him. God, he feels good.
Once he catches his breath, his hands skate softly up my back and pull some bits of straw out of my hair as his deep voice murmurs, “Imagine what I would have gotten if I saved all the chickens.”
WeeksPregnant:19
AnimalsontheMountain:9
“This is a bad idea,” Avery says with his arm shoulder-deep inside a ewe’s ass.
