Page 61 of Untamed
I slide my fingers over the hair on his chest and the ink covering the skin. “I’ve had sex before, Grayer.”
He gives me a long stare, searching for any regret. When he doesn’t see that, a grin appears. “Yeah, but you’ve never had sex with a bull rider, have you?”
Oh. Uh. Speechless. How do I respond to that one? I want to say so many snarky things, but nothing comes to mind.
“No,” I finally stutter. My heart starts hammering, the cool night air washing over my body, heated only by his breath. I flinch when his palm finds my bare breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple.
“Are you sure?” he asks again, sucking my nipple into his warm mouth. The sensations of his soft tongue lapping at my breast makes me shiver in his arms, unable to control my body around him. “You have to tell me you’re sure or I’m not going to do it.”
“I’ll never say no to you.”
His eyes find mine. “Maybe you should.”
My legs wrap around his waist a little tighter. “Something tells me I’d be stupid to tellyouno.”
He doesn’t seem convinced just yet, his eyes scanning the barn and our surroundings. I’m not sure, but it must dawn on him about then that we’re in the barn and we might want something a little more comfortable. Or private. None of that matters to me. I don’t need a bed or anything else. I just need him. “Should we go to your room?”
“My dad’s in there. . . .”
He laughs, shaking his head. “The barn’s just fine.” He doesn’t say any more and though there’s still some hesitation, he’s giving in to me.
“Do you want to?” I ask, wondering if this is just for me. The last thing I want is for him to do this just because I wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“You have no fuckin’ idea.” He gives a nod, that same confident nod. When he presses forward, his mouth finds mine again. “Hang on.”
Sweet Jesus.
He’s not waiting any longer, his patience gone as he enters me. There’s no easing into it, no hesitating, and I love that he doesn’t wait. We both gasp when he’s in, breathing escaping me entirely, but all I can do is inhale a much-needed breath that I need to stay alive this close to him.
Grayer doesn’t move right away, his eyes on mine when he does, a slow movement as if he’s wanting this to last, or waiting to torture me. Could certainly be both.
Lowering his lips to my throat, he moves a little faster, but still, he’s not rushing. It may be torture, but it’s the sweetest torture.
“There’s so much more to sex if you feel it,” he tells me, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “Let yourself feel it.”
I am. For the first time.
Within in a minute, I realize he has a way that he moves. A swagger that only he can pull off. And he knows he’s that good. He’s confident he’s going to make me experience sex like never before. Heat builds and I’m gasping and whimpering into the curve of his neck, against his lips, everywhere my mouth touches his warm skin.
He nips at my shoulder, his hands on my ass forcing me into every move he’s making. Drawing back, he positions himself on his hands, flat against the hay bale so he can see me laid out before him.
With eagerness, his hand drifts lower to between my legs. “Come for me, again. Just one more,” he begs in a low raspy voice that makes me shiver, rattles my bones and pleads for more. “Give me one more.”
It’s not his movements that do it—though they’re enough—it’s his voice and the words he’s whispering to me, “You’re beautiful when you finally let go,” and even, “I can’t get enough of you.” I thought before I liked that he didn’t say much when we were in his truck, but now, I crave these words and his uncontrolled touch.
With each movement, each thrust, I’m closer and closer to what he wants from me. My body arches, curving around him, my hips angling just enough that nothing remains of my control. I’m gone completely.
He groans, low, deep within his chest as if this sight is too much to bear for him.
My body trembles as I release a soft moan, arching my body against the hay bale. A brash grin forms and he knows I came. His diamond-cut eyes travel up my body laid out before him as his strong, confident hands splay over my stomach and then go lower. He squeezes my hips, bringing me into each one of his determined thrusts.
“Goddamn. . . .” Bending forward, he groans, touching his forehead to mine. His lips part, and I think he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t and then they’re on mine, kissing me with an intensity I’veneverexperienced before. Our mouths are colliding, tongues tangling and breathing heavy. Breathless words fall from his lips, but I can’t hear them, all I can focus on is pleasure. It shoots through me, blinds me, makes me only see him and experience what it’s like to fuck a bull rider. I never thought sex could be like this, so intense, so truly, deeply, overwhelmingly beautiful.
His thrusts come a little faster, and I know what’s coming. A thrill of anticipation shoots through me at the idea of driving him to the very edge of pleasure.
Breathing hard, his chest heaves, drawing in a ragged breath, every muscle tensed as he hovers above me. He looks at me, a quick glance, then his eyes dip low. He slams into me two more times, squeezing his eyes shut.
I grind my hips and grip the back of his neck, sliding over damp skin, his name falling from my lips in a whisper as he rides through his orgasm.
A moment later, he lets out a heavy breath, his chest shaking. “Holy shit,” he pants, slumping forward, but still supported by his trembling arms.
My lips curve into a smile when his brush mine, his knuckles on my cheek. “Was it an eight-second ride?”
He lets out a chuckle, his voice vibrating my entire body when he whispers against the shell of my ear, “I’ll never qualify when it comes to you.”
Be careful, heart. He’s leaving in the morning.
