Cowboy Up (Coming Home #3)

“Fuck me,” I hiss, seeing clear as day in those dark depths the pleasure she’s getting from sucking my cock.

My hand moves, letting her hold guide the movements as we start stroking the hard, needy flesh. Her mouth takes as much of my length as she can, which isn’t much, before swirling her tongue around me to repeat the process. It takes every ounce of my control to not come, but when I feel her teeth scrape against the underside of my cock, I see stars. With a bellow, I release my hand from her hold and hook her under her arms and toss her back against the bed. My body covers hers instantly and my mouth drops to hers. The sounds coming from the two of us are hungry as our tongues dance together.

Lifting my hips, I feel her arm move between us, and without any encouragement, she feeds my cock into her body. She screams out with the first hard stroke, but because of how long I primed her with my mouth, she has no trouble taking me completely. The shock of her pussy strangling me from tip to base is almost enough to have my come shooting deep into her, but I hold on and rumble a warning when she wiggles her hips.

“Please,” she begs.

“Don’t move,” I demand through thin lips, feeling a tiny burst of pre-come leave my cock. “Fuck.” I drop my forehead to her neck and try to measure my breathing and get ahold of my body.

“Clayton Davis, if you don’t start movin’ now, I’m goin’ to knock you on your ass and move for you.”

“Caroline Davis, if you don’t stop movin’ and let me have a minute, I’m gonna spank your ass and then move for you.”

“Yes.” She exhales, her eyes widening and her pussy clenching greedily and flexing against my cock.

“Goddamn,” I blow the word out with a hiss.

Pushing the thoughts of her liking the sound of me spanking her from my mind, I start to move, slowly gliding through her, in deep thrusts. Her nails scrape against my back, her mewls echoing and mingling with my low grunts, but it’s her slick heat rippling against my cock that almost does me in. I drop my mouth to her neck and start to kiss up the slim column until my lips are moving along her jaw. The whole time, my hips start to pick up speed. By the time I’ve covered her mouth with mine, she’s frantic, her hips surging off the bed to meet mine, our damp bodies slapping together, and her voice becoming hoarse as she screams out her release. Between the incredible feeling of her pussy clamping down on my cock and the expression on her face when she does, I can’t hold myself back any longer.

Planting my hips against hers, the tip of me as deep as I can get, I feel my stomach clench and my balls draw up. My mouth opens over her shoulder and I bite her against the tender flesh while emptying my release deep into her body. I lift my mouth when the last tremor shakes up my body and lick where there are indentions of my teeth.

“I love it when you’re bad with me.” She sighs.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask, panting and staring at the mark I’ve left on her flesh—a mark that only makes me want to put more all over her. Logically, I know it’s going to disappear before we wake up in the morning, but I can’t deny loving the fuck out of seeing it—wishing it was to stay.

“Hurt me? God, no.” She moans the last word when I start to slip free from her heat, that sound turning into a low whine when I pull the rest of the way from her body.

I glance down at my cock, the wetness of our combined releases covering every inch. She whimpers, the pitiful sound making me smile. She isn’t the only one who wishes we could keep our bodies connected. When I look back up at her, all flushed skin and bright eyes, I feel like the luckiest bastard in the world.

“Thank you.”

She frowns and searches my face. “For what, honey?”

I inhale and shake my head, feeling my lips move as I grin down at her. “For lovin’ me. For givin’ me you. For wantin’ me. Never thought I would have this, Linney, but now that I do, I know I’ll never be able to live without it. So”—I kiss her slack lips—“thank you, baby.”

Her chin wobbles and she blinks rapidly. “Clayton,” she hiccups. “Honey,” she sniffles. “Never, ever do you need to thank me for doin’ what I was made to do. You have no idea what you’ve done for me, do you?”

When I don’t speak, she gives one more sniff before giving up and letting the tears fall, smiling through them up at me.

“You, honey, you saved me. You healed me. You gave me purpose in a life that I had given up on. You’ve given me strength, confidence, and a fearlessness that only grows with your love. Don’t thank me for doin’ what comes as natural as breathin’ does, honey.”

“Linney,” I rumble thickly.

“You brought me back to life,” she continues.

“Stop, darlin’.”

“Showed me just how beautiful my days could be.”

“Caroline.”

“Offered your silent protection, my white knight, while I faced my demons.”

“Baby,” I try again, her words making my throat get thicker and my eyes burn.

“Loved me bad and gave me forever.”

“Fuck,” I grunt, my mouth covering hers so she’ll stop talking. I don’t even attempt to hold back the wetness falling from my eyes in tune with my pounding heart. Getting emotional because your other half loves you isn’t something I’ll ever be ashamed of. Not when I never thought I would have this.

I keep my mouth fused to hers while I strip her carefully of her dress and, with her silky-smooth skin pressed tightly to mine, love my wife slow. Our moans and pleading gasps are swallowed as we kiss. The slick silk of her chest rubs against mine as I continue the slow tempo of my hips.

With her words still echoing through my mind, the last thought I have before the sensation of loving her becomes too much is that she’s wrong. It was she who brought me back to life.

- -

My ringing phone pulls me from a deep and sated sleep. Caroline curls into my side as the ringing continues and I pull her closer while burying my head in the crook of her neck, content to ignore whoever is calling. I groan when the ringing picks up not even a second after it stopped, but it isn’t until I hear Caroline’s phone join in that I move.

“Clayton?” she asks, confused.

I roll and grab my phone off the nightstand, jabbing the accept button. “Yeah?”

“Clay.”

“What Mav?”

“The gazebo,” he starts, releasing an aggravated breath. “It’s gone, Clay.”

“What the hell do you mean, it’s gone?” Sleep instantly vanishes as my brother’s words wake me up as effectively as an ice-cold bucket of water tossed over my head.