God, I want this man forever.
Not just when he’s ruining me with his body and filthy words.
But in every way.
“This is gonna be hard and fast, Piper. Now get your fingers on your clit.” My hand drops between my thighs, and he starts to move. No teasing. No slow buildup. Just him slamming into me.
“F-Fuck, Christian.” I gasp, barely able to breathe. “Oh fuck… fuck, please.”
“I need you to come, darlin’. I need to feel you lose it around me while I breed this pussy full.”
“I’m close—so close,” I cry out, the heat in my belly tightening. “Don’t stop.”
He fucks me through it, brutal and beautiful, and when my orgasm hits, it tears through me so hard I forget how to breathe. My body convulses, and he thrusts into me once more, burying himself deep before stilling and emptying inside me.
“Don’t move,” he whispers, pressed flush to my back, his breath hot against my ear. “I don’t want you spilling a single drop.”
His cock twitches inside me, and he lingers long enough to make it clear he’s reluctant to let me go. One hand smooths over the curve of my ass, then, finally, he pulls out.
I whimper as my body clenches around absolutely nothing, already aching from the loss, but he doesn’t give me a second to recover. His fingers slide back inside me, and my knees almost buckle.
He moves so easily, fingers gliding in and out, until he finally pulls them free and drags my panties back up my thighs, smoothing my dress down like he didn’t just fuck me raw against the kitchen counter.I turn and catch his wrist, bringing his fingers to my lips and sucking them clean.
“Give me a taste,” he rasps, eyes glued to my lips. I slide my hands up his bare chest, palms roaming over sex and sweat-slicked skin.
My nails scrape lightly along his ribs before I curl my fingers into his shoulder and yank him toward me. Our mouths meet, and my tongue sweeps past his lips, claiming him with the same desperation he just used to take me.
“Tastes like real love,” I whisper into his mouth, smirking through the haze.
“Tastes like you’re mine.” He leans in, kissing me slowly in a way that doesn’t match the brutal way he just owned me, but god, it ruins me even more. “Tastes like you’re my woman.” He breathes against my skin before his lips find my ear. “Tastes like everything I’ve ever wanted is right here in front of me.”
Tonight, it feels like the whole town has packed itself into The Velvet Stag to celebrate Preston and Ivy. Gold decorations shimmer across the walls of Callan’s bar, and fairy lights weave between glittering decorations, transforming the rough cowboy bar into something magical.
It’s a shrine to fifty years of pure, unbreakable love and choosing each other every single day.
Preston stands near the bar in his best button-down shirt, his weathered hands wrapped around Ivy’s waist like she’s still the young woman he married all those years ago. The way he looks at her, like she hung the moon and personally arranged every star in the sky just for him, is enough to make your heart ache with the beauty of it.
I’ve known Preston for barely a year, but somehow he’s already filled a space in my life that I didn’t even realize was empty. He’s been more of a father to me than my biological dad ever managed to be. Even before Christian and I were together, Preston always checked in and looked out for me in a way that said,You’re safe now.
Back when I was with Travis, he took me under his wing and made space for me, like he knew I needed it, even if I hadn’t realized it yet.
God, even thinking about that asshat leaves a shitty taste in my mouth. The bastard doesn’t even deserve the breath it takes to curse him.
While part of me hurts for what Christian lost when Travis walked out that night, I’m not sorry he’s gone. After the way he treated him… Hell, if I’d been there, I wouldn’t have wasted my breath on him. I wouldn’t have asked questions or warned him. I’d have put my fist through his face so hard he’d still be picking teeth out of his throat three days later.
As soon as Preston spots us, he makes a beeline straight for me and kisses the back of my hand before clapping Christian on the back and pulling him into a hug.
“Happy anniversary,” Christian says, his face lighting up. “Where’s that beautiful wife of yours gone?”
Preston’s face breaks into the kind of sunshine smile that deepens the lines around his eyes and makes him look every bit the cowboy he is. He tips his cream-colored hat back and nods toward the far corner of the bar, where a stretch of worn wood has been cleared and strung with fairy lights to create a makeshift dance floor for the night.
“Colt’s got her out there spinning around. Look at them.” We follow his gaze to where Ivy is giggling and swaying with Colton, and her cheeks are flushed pink as he twirls her around. “Look how happy she is.”
“She’s been looking forward to tonight for weeks,” Christian says as his palm settles on the small of my back just as Callan calls out from behind the bar.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”
“We can’t all sleep until noon and only work when the sun goes down.”
