Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“Changing for bed,” I say, blinking at him innocently.
“Bianca.” He’s back to stroking now, his fist moving in furious pumps. “I…I’m mighty glad you think I’m a good man. But I ain’t this good, darlin’.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“The devil is trying to take hold of me.” His knees jerk wider, his abdomen flexing intensely with every up and down choke of that dirty fist. “He’s telling me to rip your little skirt off and see what’s underneath.”
Shouldn’t I be nervous now?
Shouldn’t I be alarmed?
Yes. But I’m not. That confession only makes me hotter.
More determined to stay. To…play.
I want to give this man what he deserves. But I like the way he respects my boundaries, too. Actually…that might be my favorite part. Setting limits and having them honored.
“I’ll let you rip my skirt off,” I murmur, sauntering toward him slowly, not stopping until I’m just within reach. “But once it’s off, you’re only allowed to kiss me once. Then we have to stop.”
His face is feverish, sweaty, the wide breadth of his chest plummeting up and down. “Kiss you where, Bianca?”
“Anywhere you want. But you only get one kiss.”
He groans up at the ceiling, liquid bubbling up from the slit of his sex. “Anywhere?”
“Yes.”
“Even your mouth?”
“Yes.”
His jaw slackens, like he can’t believe his luck. “Even your…” His exhale is long and rocky. “Even your cunt?”
I moan brokenly over his use of that word. It’s so out of character. This man is forthright and righteous, and he just referred to my flesh in the crudest manner possible. Somehow, though, it only serves to make that part of me damp. I’m so damp, I realize.
When did that happen?
“Even there,” I manage, swaying on my feet. “Anywhere you want.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to choose.” He leans forward, his eyes trained on my breasts. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you have the kind of tits a man wants to slap.”
I suck in a breath, my thighs flexing together. Pressing.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, that hand going for broke. Pumping, pumping. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend. I’ve just never seen anything as beautiful as you, Bianca. I’m sitting here trying my damnedest not to come from the sight of you alone. Ripping off your skirt and kissing that virgin pussy…oh lord. I don’t know if I’ll survive the rest of my life getting that close and not having the rest.”
“You want to stop?”
“God, no. I don’t want that, either.”
I’m giggling again. Free and uninhibited. No artifice. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed with anyone the way I laugh with this farmer. “Well then…” I purr, easing closer until I’m standing in between his outstretched thighs, my palms resting on his shoulders. “This skirt isn’t going to rip itself off.”
Teeth bared, he tucks his calloused fingers beneath the waistband of my skirt and rips it down the middle, roaring loud enough to make my eardrums throb. Then I’m standing in front of this giant, naked, highly aroused farmer in nothing but a see-through thong and spiked boots. Something incoherent falls from his lips and then he’s panting, his breath racing in and out, sweat pouring down the sides of his face, making tracks in the field dust.
He grasps my hips, lifts me clean off the floor, his powerful body twisting and throwing me down onto the bed. Hard. He drags his sweaty face all over me. Between my breasts, into the curve of my neck, down my ribcage and across my tummy. He inhales me. He grunts and moans, his big hips slamming furiously into the edge of the bed.
“One kiss,” I remind him, my voice shaking, my loins starting to coil from his reaction alone. “R-remember?”
Dusty releases a bellow into my stomach, his hands wrenching my knees open.
He looks down at my sex, his face a mask of intensity.
Possessiveness.
He licks his lips and snarls at it.
“Little holes, little holes. Made for satisfying me. Made for bearing my children.” To my utter disbelief, he spits on me. There. “I’d let the devil in if these holes lived beneath my roof. I’d put you on your back and be the devil to my angel morning, noon and night. No work would get done. These walls would witness me slowly losing my mind over these pretty little fuck holes, darlin’, wouldn’t they? Forget the fields. It’s a tight blonde wife I’d be plowing.”
On the heels of those shocking words, he leans down and plants a long, wet kiss between my thighs, his mouth twisting, hard lips bearing down and parting my flesh, disturbing my clit, rubbing it, rubbing until lightning flashes behind my eyes.
I scream.
I scream from the deepest territory of my soul, the orgasm pummeling me like a prizefighter. My intimate muscles convulse and squeeze, my legs instinctively wrapping around Dusty’s head while he continues to French kiss my sex, his mouth eager and honest and magical, his moans vibrating me all the way to the crown of my head.