He rewards me instantly—mouth on my skin, worshipping his way down my body. Then I’m tossed further up the bed, breathless and wild. His hat tumbles off, but we both ignore it.
“You wanna forget?” he drawls, pinching my nipples. “Hands on the headboard. Don’t let go.”
I do as I’m told, and he devours me.
Again and again.
By the time he’s done, my body’s shaking, coated in sweat, spent and ruined.
He climbs up next to me, pulls the panties from my mouth, and cups my cheek with a smirk.
“Ride me, cowgirl. Swing that fuckin’ hat around and make me come.”
I giggle, breath hitching, and crawl onto his lap, snagging his discarded hat and tugging it on. My thighs burn as I lower myself onto him slowly, and we both shiver at the contact.
His head falls back with a groan. “Jesus Christ.”
“Be quiet, or I’ll have to stop,” I breathlessly threaten as I grind down. “Don’t make me stuff panties in your mouth, sunshine.”
“Do it,” he whispers, hands tightening around my hips.
I smile slowly, shaking my head. “Can’t. Love your dirty mouth too much. Makes me come every time.”
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, dragging me down and sucking my nipple into his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Well,” I pant, rolling my hips, playfulness and lust replacing the chasm of sadness from before, “don’t die before you fill me up.”
He freezes—eyes going molten—and bites down gently on my nipple.
“You like that?” he rasps. “Like being filled up and leaking with my cum?”
I shrug, shameless. “I shouldn’t. But I do. I love it. It’s so hot.”
“Fuck, Georgia.” He flips me beneath him like he’s lost control, slamming inside with one hard thrust. “Shouldn’t have fuckin’ told me that.”
“Why?” I cry out against my palm.
“Because now you’ll never get rid of me.”
Good, because I don’t want to.
His thumb finds my clit, and my body arches off the bed, my climax ripping through me, a scream trapped in my throat.
Two more thrusts and he follows, groaning my name as he spills deep, pressing his hips flush to mine.
I collapse, limp and boneless.
He slips out with a groan but doesn’t stop—fingers replacing his cock, holding everything inside.
“What are you doing?” I pant. “I’m done.”
“Fuck no you’re not. He grins, eyes full of fire. “You wanted to forget, darlin’. I’m not stoppin’ till you’ve lost your damn mind.”
Chapter Forty Seven
His Name, Her Words, My Undoing
I’m practically running across the pasture, heels in hand, wind knotting my curls, the final Honey Bea Bash meeting still buzzing in my chest.
