Page 88 of Risking it for the Cowboy

He groaned, long and low and desperate, as he sank to her neck as if relief had finally washed over him and eased the tension in his every muscle, and simply held his finger within her, gripping her.

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening again,” he breathed against her skin, pressing a kiss to her erratic heartbeat in her neck. “Girl, I’m so wild for you, and when you kicked me out, I…” He bit a path down her neck, her collarbone, as her nails began to tear open his jeans, popping the button as he growled his approval and sank his mouth to her breast. “This lace … you’re so pretty … so smart…” An edge of reverence rimmed his words. “What the hell do you see in me?”

His question niggled her lust-hazed mind. A protector. A champion. A man who knew what it was like to be wronged and pick up the pieces afterward.

“Someone who knows how to overcome,” she breathed. “Someone who sees Daisy for who she is instead of the guy she’s descended from. Someone who wants me in spite of it.”

“She’s part of you, sweetheart.” He held her tighter, nipping at her lips and jaw as his brow furrowed. “Don’t you see how incredible you are?”

“I have too many scars,” she whispered.

“Yeah, but scars are sexy…”

His lips enclosed on her breast, tugging with his teeth as his finger within her began to pump nice and languid, his thumb braced against her sensitive nub, kneading circles as he rolled his heavy erection against her hip and thigh with slow thrusts belying the fraying tethers on his control.

His other hand gripped her hip, her rear. His lips suckled through the lace, teeth tugging her nipple.

She cried out, her head falling back. His hold on her only tightened further.

“I got you, Flower Girl,” he murmured against her flesh. “Let go, I got you…”

She did. She rolled against his hand, seeking what she wanted. She wanted him. And she didn’t want to be afraid to want him. The sound of her arousal stoked him to pump harder, faster, kneaded with more determination as his head lifted from her breast, as the tension mounted, mounted, a blossom about to open to the sky and burst forth its perfume like sunrays.

His pace increased. “Good girl, Flower Girl, gimme that honey,” he rumbled his praise in her ear, nipping her lobe, holding her up as her legs gave out and she cried out, tipping over the edge.

“Trouble … Trouble … God I’m in over my head…”

“Damn straight you are.”

She trembled with aftershocks rippling through her, as he wrung every drop of her pleasure from her, when he tore his hand free.

Charlie’s eyes fluttered open as her heart galloped and lungs heaved, only to see his lips close around his fingers. His cerulean gaze boring into hers as he suckled clean her arousal and swallowed.

And then, as innocent as can be, he choked out simply, “I missed this.”

She relinquished a death grip and cupped his face. Brushed her thumb over the solemn crease, a vestige of a hard life that had only taught him compassion, that still divoted when he flashed his megawatt grin.

“Missed what it felt like to hope for…” His eyes bounced back and forth between hers, “more.”

He’d been hopeful that that one-night stand was going to be the start of something.

He kicked up his signature grin. “You gonna put in your data that we’re christening your greenhouse?”

She laughed, her head tipping back as he dove into her neck, hungry, and nibbled his way over her collarbone.

“Don’t you want me to return the favor?” she breathed, enough presence of mind grasping her that she trailed her fingers down his treasure trail to the mass behind his zipper, brushing them along the hardened column trapped down a thigh—

He hissed, navel retracting and abs jumping as if pained and pivoted her around, severing her touch, bracing her hands to the metal frame instead.

“You wrap my favorite mouth around my cock, Flower Girl, and I’m gonna explode before you even start kissin’,” he gruffed as his palm came to rest on her rear and patted her there appreciatively, before bending her over and pressing his front against her from behind, whispering by her ear, “Right now, I gotta be back inside you, or I’m gonna die.”

His calluses snagged on the lace he’d just patted, hooking his fingers in the edges and dragging them down, smoothing over her soft, muscled flesh, squeezing it as he dragged his hand up and down her spine.

Goose bumps rose on her skin as she flashed a glance over her shoulder and watched how reverent he seemed as he caressed her body, celebrating his attraction to her with his focus homed on her every breath.

He flicked the clasp of her bra. It slackened down her arms, leaving her completely bare to him as he kept petting her skin, palming her back, her rear, her shoulders, brushing her hair falling loose from her bun over her shoulder, and finally tugging on the hair tie so that it cascaded like a waterfall around her.

He inhaled, caressing the tresses, as his other hand unhooked his belt buckle and pried open the leather. Popped loose his jeans. Dragged the zipper down. All while holding her gaze as if a captive unable to look away.