Page 122 of Finding Peace
Her eyes narrow as she looks down at me, doing her best to act like my fiery girl. But I know the answer before she even says it. “If you want it.”
A deep chuckle rumbles from my chest. “Oh… I want it.”
Eagerly, I pull the cotton panties down her legs and past her feet, admiring the way her bare toes sink into the green grass.
Part of this place.
Part of me.
A gust of wind sweeps through the field, pressing the thin fabric of her dress against every curve of her body. And knowing she’s bare beneath it—bare forme—snaps my last thread of restraint.
Her eyes dart to the outline of my cock beneath my jeans, and I’m desperate for her to free it. “Take it out, Abigail.”
“As you wish.” Her mouth twitches with a mischievous smile as she repeats the phrase I so often give her.
Eagerly, her fingers work the button and zipper of my jeans while I lift my ass slightly off the iron chair. Giggling, she does her best to work the snug denim and my briefs past my ass. The second my cock is free, it slaps against my stomach. Her eyes immediately dart to the precum leaking at the tip, and she bites her lip.
I take my cap off, set it onto the table, and run one hand through my hair before holding it out to Abbie. She wraps her small palm in mine and climbs onto my lap.
The fabric of her dress bunches up around her hips as she scoots forward on my lap. And when her palms run along my chest as her pussy rubs against the underside of my dick, I let out a hiss.
With one hand resting on her hip, I reach up and take her hat off, setting it upside down on the table. The breeze catches in her hair, and I do my best to swipe it out of her face, letting the pad of my thumb brush along her cheekbone in the process. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how beautiful you are.”
Her hips rock softly against me, but the look in her eyes turns tender. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much I love you,” she admits.
Her fingers trace the line of my chest through my shirt, slow and thoughtful. “How protective you are of the people you care about. Or the way you’d do whatever it takes to make sure we’re okay.” Her voice softens even more. “For a woman who spent most of her life wondering if I would be strong enough to make it, I know I don’t have to worry anymore. Because even on the days where it might all feel impossible, I know you’re strong enough for the both of us.”
Strong.
Physically, I always knew I was strong. I knew I had what it took to do the things other people were afraid to do. To ride bulls. To be a cowboy. To be a part of a place that’s not afraid to take everything and give nothing back. But the strength I was never sure about… was the kind that lives inside a man. The kind it takes to bemorethan my past. To move forward instead of letting it drag me under. To become the man I want to be at my very core.
A man who loves.
A man who feels without fear.
A man whose strength is about more than what you can see on the outside.
And I think it’s because of her that I finally realized I am. Every fear I carried. Every scar. Every moment that tried to break me apart has all shaped me into the man I am now. A man who’s strong.
Shehas made me strong.
And there will never be a day when I don’t fight tooth and nail to be that for her. For our baby. For our family.
I can feel the strange feeling of tears stinging at the back of my eyes, as Abigail does her best to stand on her toes. She wraps her hand around the base of my cock and slowly sinks down onto it.
And I don’t know why, but something about the feeling of being buried inside her, out here in the middle of this field beneath the willow tree, combined with the words she just said to me, is enough for one to fall down my cheek.
As she fully seats herself on top of me, she leans forward and catches the tear with a kiss before it reaches the stubble along my jaw. She doesn’t rush. Instead, she presses another kiss there. Then another. Then a third, moving slowly along my jawline. And when her lips brush against me, she whispers, “I was always meant to love you, Jas.”
My hands slide into her hair, threading through the strands as I gently guide her face back in front of mine. I keep her close, our foreheads nearly touching, our breaths mingling in the warm air as she begins riding me.
Just minutes ago, I wanted to ravage her. To chase that wild, reckless hunger she pulls out of me so easily. But now I just want this.
I want her to take what she needs. To use me to bring her pleasure. Because she’s undone me completely. Out here, in the middle of our ranch, with the wind tugging softly through her hair and the sun warming the curve of her cheeks, she’s stripped me bare in every way that matters. She sees every rough edge and instead of trying to smooth them out, she just… loves me anyway.
It’s simple, really.
And that’s why, when I die, I know that—whatever is after this life—thisis where I’ll find her.
