Page 26 of Bronco
He hasn’t stopped mapping my curves with his hands, roaming across my body like he owns it now. He always has. “Sweetheart, are you asking me to lick your pussy?”
I whimper. I didn’t expect him to say those words. I mean, he says the filthiest things in my fantasies, and I always say them back. But what’s happening here between us is a hundred times better than any fantasy I’ve ever had of him. I shift my legs, spreading my thighs in an invitation. “Please.”
He puts his hand on my shirt, stroking the top button. “First, you have to get out of these clothes.”
I’ve never been naked with a man before, and I expected to be nervous. But I’m not. Because Bronco makes me feel safe in a way that I don’t want to examine too deeply.
I unbutton my shirt slowly, not sure which one of us I’m teasing. Then I shrug out of it, and suddenly, I’m aware that I’m sitting in his lap in only my bra. I reach behind myself and unfasten the clasp. Cold air whispers against my skin, and my nipples pebble in the air-conditioned room.
“So beautiful, just like I knew they would be,” Bronco says. He presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder while the other hand reaches for my breast. It fills his hand, and he makes a soft rumble of approval. “You’re so damn irresistible.”
His words give me the confidence I need to reach for the button of my blue jeans. He helps me shimmy out of the material, tugging it down so it doesn’t hurt my injured leg. His gaze snags on my ankle. For a moment, I’m afraid he’s going to think I’m too injured to carry on. So, I remind him of what he said, “You promised to lick my pussy, cowboy.”
His gaze snaps to mine instantly. “A cowboy always delivers on his word. Now, stretch out like a good girl. Let me take care of your needy little pussy.”
When I’ve stretched across the cushions, clad only in my panties, he positions his body over me. His lips find mine, and he’s kissing me. He kisses me like he talks to me. It’s all about feral need, and I love it. I love the idea that I could be his.
When he finally lifts his head long enough to let me dizzily drink in a few gasps of oxygen, he doesn’t stop kissing me. He keeps pressing his lips to my jaw then down my neck. His beard tickles me with each gentle nuzzle.
He massages my breasts, tugging on my nipples and licking them until I think I’ll go insane from need. Every caress and every touch is making the fire below burn even brighter.
By the time he reaches for the waistband of my panties and pulls them down, my legs fall open for his gaze. “You’re everything.”
Tears prick at my eyes. I’m not sure what he sees in me, but I’m not arguing with the man who’s currently spreading my glistening lips.
“Can’t wait to taste this cream,” he says before he licks my slit.
I buck up against his face instantly. It’s so good. I can’t believe I’ve never had this experience before. But I know it’s about more than just the physical. He makes me feel seen. Known. Wanted.
He puts his arm over my hips to hold me in place, then goes back to eating me out. He makes growls of approval as he laps at me, as if he’s enjoying the best meal he’s had in years. The sounds he’s making are arousing and obscene at the same time.
But it’s when he circles my clit with his tongue that my eyes flutter closed. I’ve never felt anything like this moment with him. I always thought it was a thing in romance books and movies. I didn’t realize that having my brother’s best friend eat me out would become my new favorite thing.
I can barely think as he lavishes all his attention on that tiny bud. I clutch at the cushions beneath me, desperately riding out the most intense orgasm of my life.
He doesn’t stop as I gasp out his name. He just keeps eating me like he’s never going to stop. Like giving me pleasure is now his one and only mission in life. Can’t say I’m going to complain about that.
When he’s eaten me through two orgasms, he kisses his way back up my body and stares down at me. His beard is a wet mess and his pupils are blown wide. His jean-clad bulge rests heavy against my hip. But he doesn’t look like there’s anything else he’d rather be doing as he studies me.
“I want more,” I tell him. The orgasms he gave me were incredible. I’ve never been this boneless, this happy and sated. But it’s still not enough. I need to feel Bronco inside of me, stretching me. Owning me.
He’s quiet for so long that at first, I think he’s going to deny the request. Then he says, “You don’t owe me a thing.”
“Fuck me like I owe you everything, and you’re taking your due.” I press a kiss to his lips, tasting my essence on his tongue. It’s primal and erotic and so damn hot. I didn’t know I’d like sex this much. Then again, it’s Bronco, and he’s the only man I’ve ever fantasized about. The only one whose name I cry out in the dark when I’m alone.
He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into me. I arch up against him, suddenly feeling like we’re not close enough. I want desperately to crawl into his skin, to make my home deep in his soul, the way he has mine.
His hand moves from where it’s resting on my hip, and he slides it across my swollen pussy that he’s already pleasured. He swirls my wetness around. “So responsive for me.”
I whimper when his finger breaches my tight channel.
Bronco’s finger is big and thick, just the way I know his cock will be. The thought has me spasming, and my body sucks his finger in deeper. Over me, he grinds his erection against my hip. Hard. He’s seeking his own friction, as desperate for our connection as I am.
“Take me,” I whisper, unable to believe that after all this time we’re finally in the same place together. I never thought this would happen, and if I wake up tomorrow to find this was all a beautiful, horny dream, I’m going to cry for a million years.
“Look at me.” Bronco’s words have me snapping open my gaze. He adds a second finger, stretching me even more. “I want to see every expression. Want to know what you look like when I’m making you come on my fingers.”
I reach down and massage my aching clit, circling it just the way I like.
