Page 53 of Roped in Rawhide

“Just what I said.” My sure grip slides up the rigid length of my shaft, rolling around the head before drifting back down. “If I don’t take care of this, my balls will ache all day and I won’t be able to ride for shit.”

“Awww, poor horny cowboy.” But she appears transfixed by the act.

“Want to do the honors?” My cock leaks more, just anticipating her attention.

She turns into me again, nibbling on her lower lip. I swoop in for a kiss. Our mouths instantly open as a familiar comfort washes over me. We exchange a hungry moan and push closer, devouring each other like starving fiends. Her insistence blends with mine. Damn, even her morning breath is delicious.

But my hard-on prods at her stomach, reminding us of other desires demanding to be handled.

Gemma’s gaze lowers to the smear of liquid painting her lower belly. “That’s sexy.”

“Glad you think so,” I rasp. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

She studies me from behind heavy eyelids. “Maybe we could have another lesson.”

My practiced motions falter as if I suddenly forgot what I’m doing. “I’m listening.”

“The next logical sex-tivity—”

“Sex-tivity?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

I pause to consider it. “Is that an actual word?”

“We can just forget it if you’d prefer to argue semantics.” There’s a sassy curve to her right eyebrow.

“Apologies,” I chuckle. “Please continue.”

“It might be fun if we get each other off.”

“Yes,” I blurt. My brain is already struggling to decide where to begin.

Gemma takes pity on me, grabbing my wrist to release the hold I have on my dick. The simmering need pounding in my veins goes quiet when my hand settles on her breast. She steers my fingers to her nipple. Together, we pinch the hardened tip. Her gasp is the only sound in the trailer, rattling against my skull to spur me in the correct direction. I give her another tweak and she trembles.

“Yes, just like that.” Her praise sets me on a course to deliver her ecstasy.

Determination hammers into me. I’m focused on her sensitive skin in my grasp. That’s why I don’t realize she’s on her own mission.

Gemma’s touch on my straining cock is a jolt of intense pleasure. I whimper and flex against the onslaught. She uses a loose, tentative grip on her initial stroke. My hips buck forward, immediately seeking more. Her upward glide is slow but steady. It’s enough to spread prickles across my entire body.

“Fuck, baby. That feels incredible.”

Her baby blue concentration shifts from my dick to check my honesty. “Really?”

“Uh-huh, much better than my own hand.”

Which gives her the incentive to snatch my fingers off her tit. Before I can protest, she drapes her leg over me and rests my palm flat over her pussy. That heat from earlier greets me.

“You’re already wet.” Awe brightens my tone.

“That cock of yours gets me riled up.”

“Are you just using me for my dick? I’m starting to get a complex.”

“Less talking. More fingering.”

I’m about to beg for instructions rather than botch the job. But of course, Gemma catches my silent panic. She guides me to her entrance, pushing two of my digits inside. Arousal is practically dripping from her here. My eyes widen at the slick sensation.