He was demanding and dominant, took what he wanted, but she was all too willing to give him what he asked for without hesitation. His lips were hard and soft at the same time, and when he pushed her down into a pile of soft hay, he breathed in the whoosh of air from her lungs as she landed in the fluffy heap. The fingers tangled in her hair held her firmly while he explored her with his other hand. He cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb back and forth over her nipple until it hardened into a stiff peak.
He growled low as his tongue continued exploring every secret place in her mouth. She moaned and pushed against his wicked fingers, urging him on. She opened her thighs when he nudged her with his knee, and he wedged his hips between them. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist, get as close to him as possible, but he was simply too big. That was when she realized that no matter how close they were, even skin to skin, it wouldn’t be close enough. She’d never get enough of him.
He inflamed her, engulfed her, sent her spiraling headlong on a reckless journey of desire and need that clawed to get at him. Somehow she was aware that he was the only one who’d be able to make her feel like this, make her ache and burn with need.
When he broke the kiss, she cried out at the sudden loss of his lips on hers, but pleasure soared in her once again after he pushed her shirt up and sucked one bared nipple into his mouth. She writhed against the hay as he twirled his tongue around the stiffened peak of one, then the other puckered tip. Heat pooled between her thighs, where a dull ache began to throb and pulse in time with each kiss, nip, lick.
She clawed at his shirt until he finally untangled his fingers from her hair and let her pull it over his head. His hot skin was heaven under her fingers. She traced every muscle she could reach along his shoulders and back. There was nothing soft about his body. He was hard contours of ripped steel covered in skin. He was powerful. A man in his prime. He kissed down to her navel and went to work opening the button and zip of her jeans.
He licked around her belly button before blowing playfully on her wet skin. She giggled, then gasped when his hand slid under her jeans and panties and settled over her mound. He growled when his finger glided unhindered through the slickened folds, and her nails dug into his shoulders. He reared up and loomed over her. Hazel eyes shimmered down at her.
Her lungs seemed to forget how to work as he stared at her. When he stroked her clit with his thumb, she moaned low in her throat. She tried to sit up, but he splayed his other hand wide in the middle of her chest, imprisoning her. He stroked her again, and her whole body jerked in response.
“You like that, angel?”
She couldn’t have spoken at that moment even if it meant saving her life, so she nodded. He stroked her again and edged one finger inside her pussy with ease. Her muscles clamped around him, and shivers ran down her spine, straight to her clit.
He growled again.
“You are like hot, wet silk. Do you know what it does to me knowing that I can do this”—he stroked her again, and she moaned—”to you?”
She looked down to see his erection straining against his jeans.
“I think I might have some idea,” she whispered.
He sat up on his knees and pulled her jeans, along with her panties, off her legs. There was little time for her to comprehend what he was doing before she found herself facedown over his thighs.
“Galen!”
“Shh.” He stroked her back before massaging the muscles with his warm hands.
His touch was packed with whimper-inducing pleasure, and when he kneaded the bare cheeks of her ass, she sighed.
“You have the most delectable ass, Myka.”
Before she could respond, he trailed his long fingers down between her thighs and dipped two inside her wetness. He laid the other palm over her cheeks, and heat seared her skin when he spread them wide so he had better access to her drenched opening. When he retreated from her sheath and slid his wet fingers over her clit, she bucked her hips against him. Pressure built inside her until she could barely breathe.
“I’m going to make you come for me, angel.”
His hard cock strained against her side through his jeans as he continued alternating strokes deep inside her and over her clit. A scream built in her throat, but she couldn’t release it. There was too much pressure everywhere in her body. His long fingers stretched her, toyed with her, coaxed her until her skin hurt from the intense need swelling inside her.
“That’s it. Ride my fingers, angel.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been rocking her hips against his hand, taking him deep, then retreating. On each retreat, he stroked her clit before sliding home again. She rested her head on her forearms and whimpered. He urged her to ride him faster, faster until her head began to spin, and her body flew apart. The scream finally shot from her throat as she came. She cried out his name over and over as her muscles clenched and unclenched around him in spasms.
When the waves began to calm, he kept his fingers deep inside her while he lightly rubbed his other hand over her back. Despite the cool night air in the barn, a fine sheen of sweat clung to her skin. She’d never come that hard in her life. He bent over her and placed a warm, inviting openmouthed kiss on her shoulder before he helped her sit up. Instead of letting her embarrassment from being nude from the waist down bother her, she straddled his hips.
He stretched his arms up and linked his fingers behind his head before leaning slightly back against the hay bales. Sitting on his lap, she was almost eye level with him—almost.
He’d given her so much pleasure, had been in control the whole time, taking what he wanted from her with urgency, but never hurting her. He could so easily do so, even without meaning to, but he seemed to be attuned to everything she felt, everything she needed. It was as if he knew how far he could push her, how much he could bend her before she’d break. And when she did break? Oh, how the fireworks had exploded.
She longed to give him the same toe-curling pleasure he’d just given her. She cupped his face in her hands and bent to rain kisses over his eyes, nose, cheeks, and jaw. The stubble growing on his jaw tickled her, but she liked the way it felt and nuzzled him before making her way to his lips. She gently bit his bottom lip, then sucked it into her mouth.
A low growl emanated from his throat, but he kept his hands behind his head. She ran her palms over his shoulders and down his chest, which was sprinkled with a fine dusting of hair. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth as her fingers glided over his rock-hard abs. She’d never get tired of touching him, of looking at him. She continued her journey downward and reached between their bodies to cup him through his jeans. They groaned in unison. He was heavy, hot, hard against her hand, and she stroked him through the now-offensive fabric keeping her from touching his bare cock.
She reached for the top button and struggled with it from the pressure of his erection, but it finally broke free. After easing the zipper down, she slid her hand inside. He was going commando, and she sighed when she finally wrapped her fingers around him. He was as hard as stone, yet his skin was silky soft.
She broke the kiss and watched his face as she stroked him. He gritted his teeth, and a barely discernible tic started in his jaw.
“You’re going to kill me, angel.”
“I don’t want to kill you,” she whispered. “I only want to make you come.”
He groaned when she stroked him more firmly then cupped his balls and gently squeezed. He bucked his hips up, and she began a slow rhythm over him with her hand that made him grunt with each downward beat. She brushed her thumb intermittently over the thick crown. The slick fluid leaking from the head allowed her hand to glide more smoothly over him.