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He stood up, opened his jeans, and his cock jutted out through the fly. Willa stared at the head of his engorged member and licked her lips in the same way a cat licks its lips prior to devouring its prey.
“I don’t think so,” he said lustfully.
Mac drew her body to him, lifting her pelvis, so she was lifted onto his erection, causing her to climax as he sank deep. Barely giving her time to catch her breath, he grasped her hips and drove in and out of her. Willa writhed beneath him, caught up in the haze of sensual seduction he was weaving. Her hands came up to caress his forearms and closed around them.
The only sounds in the small house were the steady clicking of the pendulum clock and Mac and Willa’s moans and groans in response to each other and the pleasure shared. Mac’s body demanded he surrender to his own release. Holding her more firmly, he thrust stronger and deeper until he called out her name as she climaxed, and he pumped her full of his cum.
Regretfully, he withdrew from her, then pulled her up into his embrace and kissed her.
“Now that, Cowgirl, is my idea of the breakfast of champions.”
She giggled and bit his lower lip, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I have to agree. Not a bad way to start the day.”
Chapter
Three
The past few months had been blissful. Willa was finding it more difficult to resist Mac’s asserting his authority in her life, especially in their bed. He was a strong, attentive, and inventive lover. She’d been fucked in places and in ways, she’d never imagined but had found great pleasure at his hands.
The spankings became more varied and frequent. While she hated to admit they made her incredibly aroused, regardless if he was administering one strictly to ramp up her libido or as discipline when she flouted his authority, the more dominant he became, the more easily she became aroused. Mac was no fool, and she knew he could no doubt feel the shift in their relationship as well. Willa was able to avoid an actual discussion, but Mac seemed content as long as he felt they were progressing in the way he wanted.
He was aware of the power exchange elements in Mandy and John’s marriage. They had talked about how strong and happy their friends’ relationship was and how both seemed to be thriving, but never specifically discussed that aspect of their marriage or how that dynamic might play into their own.
Willa had just returned from a week-long trip with a group of campers, three close friends who had been coming to her for a “girls’ expedition” for the past decade. Willa enjoyed going with them as they were good riders and easy keepers in terms of feeding them. They were happy with whatever she wanted to provide and helped set up and break down their camp each day, even though Willa had repeatedly assured them that wasn’t expected.
Small groups, she handled by herself, but for larger groups, she employed a support team that would move to each evening’s destination, set up well-appointed tents, a cooking/grilling area, and campfire area. Willa took great care to ensure each group who went out with her had the vacation experience of a lifetime—many would book for the following year before returning home.
The Superstition Mountains and their surrounding wilderness were Willa’s playground. She knew this rough country like the back of her hand. Growing up in the area, she’d preferred to spend her time in the mountains and canyons than any designated play area, school grounds, or later, the bar scene.
She had just come up from helping Gus with the evening’s barn chores when the phone rang.
“Reynolds Wilderness Rides,” she said in her most professional voice.
“And they have no idea what a wild ride Willa Reynolds can be,” came Mac’s sexy voice.
“Hey, you! I miss you.”
“I’ve missed you, too. How was the trip with the girls?”
“As always, fun, easy, and lucrative. They’re great tippers.”
Willa had returned the previous day to find his note, saying he’d been called to the headquarters of the US Marshal Service.
“I’m driving in from the airport. If you haven’t started dinner, don’t. I’m headed home now. Why don’t we meet at thatItalian place this side of Sedona? You know, the one with the great bruschetta?”
“I can make that work. I’ll grab a shower and check in with Gus, but I should be there in about an hour.”
“Traffic is good, so I might be there ahead of you and will get us a table. I love you, Willa.”
“Sounds good,” she said before hanging up.
Her inability—or unwillingness—to tell him how she felt had become a bit of a sticking point. Mac had begun telling her he loved her shortly after he moved in. While Willa believed him and felt the same, it was hard for her to acknowledge her feelings. That might have been awkward, but for the fact, Mac seemed undeterred by her inability to put into words what she obviously felt. Instead, she tried to show him every day how much she cared.
Willa took a quick shower. Once she had dried herself, she opted to put on a casual ankle-length knit dress with a deep V-neck and a pair of sandals. It was a bit dressier than jeans with boots but every bit as comfortable. After leaving the house, she checked in with Gus, climbed into her truck, and raced off to meet Mac. When she entered the dimly lit restaurant, she inhaled deeply and smiled.
“I wish I thought that was for me,” Mac teased as he kissed her.
