Wild Card (North Ridge #1)

“No. This is all real.” I look up and my eyes scan the horizon, the sun barely lifting above the peaks. Polly is grazing nearby, Fletcher is sleeping. The world looks new, is new. Everything is different now with Rachel in my arms. Better, brighter.

I smile at her. If she’s feeling different after last night, I can’t tell. But what I can tell is that I’m not rushing out of this sleeping bag. Last night was amazing but that’s not the end of us, it can’t be. Not when I’m dying to be back inside of her, to watch her come this time while I’m deep within.

I kiss her softly, running my hand down over the swell of her breasts, to her belly, testing the waters. She kisses me back, making sweet little noises at my touch. I’m so darn hard and ready to put this morning wood to good use.

The only problem is a sleeping bag doesn’t leave much room, especially with two people.

“Hold on,” I tell her, reaching over and unzipping it until it’s lying flat on the mat and we’re exposed to the new world. In seconds, I’m naked.

“Lie back,” I tell her as I crawl over her, my hard, bare cock bobbing between us. I put my hands on her shoulders and nudge her back while I settle over top of her. I run my thumb over her lips, pushing gently until her lips wrap around it. With an achingly beautiful smile, she sucks softly and I feel the jolt right through me, all the way to my toes.

“I don’t think you realize what you do to me, what you’ve always done to me,” I murmur to her, one hand moving her underwear down her legs as she shimmies out of it. I remove my thumb and pull her top over her head as she arches back to let me.

I stare down at her tits, so perfect, spilling to the sides. They seem to glow in the light of sunrise, pure and flawless, her dark pink nipples hardening before my eyes. I bite my lip, trying to control my hunger, and gently blow air across her breasts. She arches her back again – so fucking gorgeous – and I watch her skin prickle as I trace the goosebumps across her chest with my flat tongue.

She makes this breathless gasp—we’re both so drowsy still with sleep—and I press my body down on top of her so she can feel how hard, long, and ready I am, the weight of me. Her eyes widen but they aren’t afraid. Not of this. She knows that she can handle it and handle it well, take me for all that I give her.

I kiss her neck and spread her legs apart with my knee. I breathe her in, the smell of our sex from last night hitting me like a fucking bomb, causing my dick to grow hot, my skin to get tighter.

I pause, even though my body is like a gun with a quick trigger, and take it all in. Rachel Waters. My raven girl. Here on my sleeping bag, surrounded by my land. She’s under me, naked and vulnerable and willing. She stares up at me with trust, with want, need, and submission. She’s giving herself to me as I give myself to her.

It means a lot more to me than she could possibly know.

I take a shaking breath at how real this all is, and while keeping all my weight on one arm, my free hand snakes between her legs. My eyes close at the feel of her warmth—she’s hotter than the summer sun and I could drown in her arms.

I bury my head into the crook of her neck making small, quick bites along her delicate skin until I find the soft, delicate lobe of her ear. She likes this. She always has. I lightly tug on it between my teeth until she moans, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

Trying to steady my breath, I slide my hand up to her clit and a low, guttural groan rises up from my chest. She feels like heaven—just as soft and silky as last night, and absolutely wet.

“You’re so perfect,” I tell her as I push two fingers inside her.

A gasp catches in her throat.

Tight. She’s so fucking tight.

The way she squeezes around my fingers, holding me, makes my eyes momentarily roll back in my head. My cock swells to the breaking point and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back. I’m practically panting, working her like this, and she squirms, her head rolling from side to side, that mouth of hers wet and open. Wanting more.

I can watch this for days.

Look at what I do to her.

Her breath catches, and her round tits heave upwards, the skin even more pale against her summer tan. I run my tongue over her nipples, hard pebbles that respond to my every touch, every smooth lick, and she groans again, louder this time. I want to take her to the limit, I want her inhibitions stripped bare.

Out here, in the wild, I want her wild.

I want to watch it all under this rising sun, watch her glow and radiate until she’s blinding me. I want her light to banish all the dark years.

I push my fingers in further and the groan deepens. Her hips jerk upward, again and again, nearly desperate. Watching her writhe and moan underneath me, from just my fingers, feels better than any shot of whisky.

I can’t take much more. I make a fist around my rigid shaft and position it at her entrance. Her eyes flutter open as I slowly rub my swollen head up and down her silky cleft, taking my time to tease her, to tease myself.

I don’t need the teasing.

I suck in my breath, trying to hold back.

It’s the hardest thing. Every nerve in my body is ready to slam deep inside and fuck her until we’re off the sleeping bag and rolling in the dirt. It takes all my strength to slowly ease my way inside her. She’s so hot and wet as I slowly push in that I begin to shake, my muscles contorting, trying to regain control. I pause and take in a deep, wavering breath before I continue.

Her face twists as I sink deeper.

“You feel me?” I whisper hoarsely to her. “You feel all of me?”

She tries to nod but she’s moaning, caught up in delirium. She’s so fucking tight, like a vise. Both of us are breathing hard, sweat building on my brow, our skin damp. When I’m in deep, I slowly pull out again, watching my cock as it withdraws, glistening with her wetness.

There are no words. No thoughts. Just this. Just us, making love under an early sky.

She grabs the edge of the sleeping bag, curling her fingers around it.

I reach down, gliding over her stomach, and place my finger on her clit and rub in small, lazy circles, making her wetter. I work at her until I feel her widen, her legs spreading more, and then I push in again, deeper. Her hips buck up against me and now she’s even tauter. I can plunge deeper and I know I’m hitting all her sweet spots. She gasps and I grab her hip, holding on tight, my fingertips sinking into her soft skin.

She’s so wet and lush, I could lose my body, my heart in her forever.

But I don’t have forever.

The sun is rising higher.

The birdsong fades away, buried by our labored breaths.

I’m close now. So close.

My pace becomes quicker as my balls rise, tighten, threatening to let loose inside of her. They smack against her skin, the slapping noise filling the air as I pound her in and out, in and out, quick and relentless, bringing me to the edge. Droplets of sweat trickle off my forehead, splashing onto her below me.