“Jan…”
She’s whimpering my name. My cock buried so deep in her, she’s clutching it so tight that I can barely breathe.
“Give it to me, Ida Sue. Give it to me,” I growl, my hand holding her hip. I’m probably bruising her there, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Ida Sue, it’s that she likes it as rough as I do. She loves when I leave marks on her body, showing how carried away we both were. Hell, I like it too. I still have her bite marks on my shoulder from fucking her last night and I’m hoping she does it again before they fade.
“Harder, Jan…” she begs, her head tilting as she gasps out the words.
Her hands slap down on the table, holding onto the edge as I tunnel in and out of her—faster and harder than before. My gaze moves from her face, lost in pleasure, to the way her breasts move with each of my thrusts, bouncing with a rhythm that makes my hard cock swell even more.
“You’re mine,” I growl. “Completely mine.”
The words are born from a need to have her submit, to have her admit that she needs me.
That she needs me as much as I need her.
She brings her leg up, opening herself up, causing me to sink impossibly deeper. So deep that I’m touching her womb.
“All yours.” Her eyes open and she looks at me.
She’s a sultress, a siren that has captured me. She reaches out and takes my free hand, bringing it to her sweet little cunt. Our fingers slide together over her throbbing clit.
“My sweet, little Honey Girl,” I murmur, feeling my climax closing in.
I add pressure to her clit, moving our fingers over it in unison and then grinding down on it as my cock owns her body.
“Always yours, Jan. I love you.” She struggles for breath, her eyes starting to close as her walls tremble around my shaft.
“Keep your eyes open, Ida Sue. I want to watch you come. I need to see you.” Slowly her eyes open, just as she spasms around my cock. Her body jerks, and I feel her orgasm gush through her, bathing my cock as she writhes underneath me.
“That’s it. That’s my Honey Girl,” I croon. Then, I let go, coming deep inside of her, painting her womb, and giving her another piece of me. She has most of them now. I can’t keep from it. Love doesn’t even begin to explain what I feel for her… What she is to me. I’m still hard even after I come. I seem to stay that way with Ida Sue. I pull her limp body up, still deep inside of her. Her legs lock around me and even though I just came, I feel my cock jerk inside of her, needing more. I carry her to the bar, which is a little higher and I place her on it, so I can look directly into her face. My hand brushes a stray tendril of hair, wet from the work out I just gave her body, from her face.
“What am I going to do with you, Ida Sue?”
“Keep me.”
She smiles like it’s just that simple. It’s not. How can it be? Just this morning I found my paycheck on my desk. A paycheck signed by Ida Sue. I can’t work for the woman I love. I already feel unsure of myself and that paycheck just cinched it. Things were different when the ranch was struggling. I was working to save it, to make it turn a profit for her. I had a purpose, a reason. Hell, after the money that was deposited into her accounts a couple of days ago… Ida Sue doesn’t even need the ranch. In the past few days, I’ve gone from worrying about why she wouldn’t marry me, to wondering why she should. I still don’t have an answer.
“What’s on your mind, Cowboy?” she asks, her face thoughtful as she brings her hand up to hold mine there against her face.
“I was just thinking that there’s never been a more beautiful woman in the world.”
It’s kind of a lie, but it’s not. It might not have been what I was thinking, but she’s definitely the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.
“There’s no way that’s true, but that’s the one thing that always takes my breath when it comes to you, Jan.”
“What’s that?”
“The fact that you believe it. You never give me false compliments. You believe every word you give me.”
“Always.”
I bend down to kiss her lips, briefly. It’s just a touch, but that’s all that’s needed.
“How long do you think we have before Mary wakes up and the kids are home from school?”
She looks over my shoulder at the old clock on the wall and then focuses back on me.
“I figure you have about thirty minutes, maybe forty if we’re lucky.”
“Then, I guess I better get busy,” I grin.
“I guess so,” she agrees, her hands pushing into my hair.
God… I love her. She loves me. It should be so simple.
Then why does it feel so hopeless?