Page 16 of Oops, I Fell For The Ranch Hand Next Door

I do. He continues his exploration, thumbs tracing patterns on my skin. Everywhere he touches wakes up. He’s not rushing, not grabbing. He’s learning me, and the patience of it makes my pussy throb. He strips my shirt off slowly, giving me time to stop him. I don’t. I can’t. The fabric lifts over my head, and then I’m topless. His eyes darken, pupils dilated.

“God, Jessie.”

Before I can argue, his mouth is on my breast, hot and insistent. The world narrows to the wet pull of his lips and the scrape of his teeth over my sensitive nipple. I cry out, the sound raw and startled, my hands flying up to fist in his thick hair. He groans against my skin like he’s the one being pleasured, the vibration rolling straight down to my pussy.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, pulling back just enough for me to see the reverence in his dark eyes. “These perfect, soft tits… been driving me crazy for days.” His big, callused hand cups the other breast, thumb stroking slow circles over the stiff peak before he pinches it gently, rolling it until my back arches. “So full. So goddamn beautiful. Made for my hands. Made for my mouth.”

He switches sides, sucking the neglected nipple deep between his lips while his fingers continue tormenting the first. The contrast of hot suction and cool air on my wet skin makes me whimper, thighs pressing together against the growing ache. Every pull of his mouth sends sparks racing between my legs, my pussy already slick and throbbing with need.

“Eli, please—” My voice cracks.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He kisses a wet path down the valley between my breasts, then lower, over the soft, rounded curve of my belly that I’ve always tried to hide. Instead of pulling away, he lingers there, pressing open-mouthed kisses across every inch like it’s sacred. “This body… every curve, every softness… it’s mine to worship tonight. Don’t you dare hide from me.”

Tears prick my eyes at the way he says it, so fierce, so certain. He guides me back against the couch cushions, and I let him, trembling as his rough hands hook into my underwear. I lift my hips without thinking, letting him drag the fabric down my thighs and toss it aside. Naked now, completely exposed under the warm lamplight, I should feel vulnerable. Instead, the way he stares between my spread thighs like a starving man staring at a feast makes heat flood my cheeks and my pussy clench around nothing.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough as gravel. “Every fucking inch of you. Look at this pretty pussy, already so wet for me.” He spreads my thighs wider with his strong cowboy hands, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. His breath ghosts over my pussy, making me shiver. “Gonna take care of you, darling. Gonna make you feel so good.”

“Eli… make me come,” I beg, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “Please.”

He answers with a low, hungry groan. Then his mouth is on me.

The first long, slow lick of his tongue from my entrance to my clit drags a broken moan from my throat. He doesn’t rush. He explores me like he has all night, licking broad strokes along my pussy, circling my swollen clit with the flat of his tongue before flicking the tip against it in quick, maddening strokes. Two thick fingers slide into me, curling just right against that sensitive spot inside while his lips seal around my clit and suck.

“Oh God—” My hips buck, but he holds me down with one strong forearm across my lower belly, keeping me open for him. He devours me, wet sounds filling the cabin as he fucks me with his fingers and worships my clit with his mouth. My hands tighten in his hair, thighs trembling around his shoulders. Praise rumbles against my pussy between licks and sucks.

“So sweet… so fucking perfect… come on my tongue, sweetheart. Let me taste it.”

The pressure builds fast and overwhelming. He adds a third finger, stretching me, pumping deeper while his tongue works my clit in relentless circles. My whole body tightens, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps.

I come with a sharp cry of his name, thighs clamping around his head as waves of intense pleasure crash through me. He doesn’t stop, gentling his movements but staying with me through every shudder and aftershock, licking me softly until I’m boneless and gasping.

He slides along my body, kissing a path upwards, slow and worshipful, tasting every curve along the way. He gathers me against his chest, pulling a thick blanket over us both, and presses his lips to my hair.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “Just stay.”

I curl into him, cheek pressed to the steady thunder of his heartbeat, safe in a way I haven’t felt in years. The storm howls against the cabin walls, but here in his arms, wrapped in his warmth and the certainty of his touch, I finally understand what it means to be kept.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay.”

His arms band around me, and I let go completely.

Chapter six

Eli

Jessie’s hand drifts to the center console.

I cover it before she’s finished the movement, my palm over her knuckles, fingers lacing through hers like I’ve been waiting for the excuse. Which I have been. I’ve been waiting since we left the ranch twenty minutes ago, with her sitting close enough that I can smell whatever soap she used this morning, close enough that when I shift gears, my knuckles brush her thigh and her inhale catches in a way that makes me want to pull over and finish what we started last night.

The road winds through Hill Country in lazy sweeps, wildflowers carpeting the hills in colors so saturated they look unreal. A semi roars past going the opposite direction, the blast of wind rocking the truck. Jessie doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t tense. Her pulse jumps beneath my thumb where I’m tracing circles over her wrist, then settles. Slows. Like her body’s learning that proximity to me doesn’t mean danger.

I’ve been tracking this shift for days, the way she leans in now instead of pulling away, how she doesn’t apologize when our bodies touch, the quiet way she’s stopped scanning for exits. Last night she came apart under my mouth while thunder shook the cabin walls. This morning she woke in my space without that haunted look that says she’s already planning her escape.

Progress.

“You okay?” I ask, eyes on the road, voice pitched low enough that it’s more vibration than sound.

“Yeah.” She squeezes my hand. “I am.”