Page 31 of Drifter’s Heart

No tearing up on the nice cowboy who gave you so many good orgasms.

More orgasms than I ever got from Brad in all our years together. I know. I counted.

“It’s a habit.” I shrug as though being exposed and naked beneath West is a regular thing. Like feeling his body pressed to mine is… more than a world-bending experience.

Because he feels so goddamn warm and safe⁠—

“You can’t stay,” I blurt, and close my eyes.

West waits. Damn him.

I squish my eyes shut and hold my breath.

“Winnie,” West says after a few seconds. Amusement laces his tone.

“Mm-hmm?” I murmur through shut lips.

“How long are you not going to breathe for?”

I shrug and burrow deeper into my bed, pretending not to feel West nudge my legs apart, or the pressure of him between my thighs. Or the way his cock nestles against my entrance and⁠—

“Ohhh,” I whisper as he pushes forward.

Not enough to push in, just enough to tease the ever-loving fuck out of us both. A shuddering breath passes between us as I reach for my purse.

West shoves a foil packet into my hand. “Way ahead of you, Rand.” His gray eyes glitter at me. “Do the honors?”

I lick my lips. “Yes, sir.” The sass just falls on out. It’s natural.

The growl that erupts from West’s lips is nothing short of feral. Thick fingers lace in my hair as he rocks back onto his knees to give me space to work. Those same fingers massage my scalp as I reach for him, but the moans that tumble between us are mine.

His touch is the ultimate distraction. I fumble more than once, trying to roll the condom over his erect cock while he digs the pads of his strong fingers into my scalp in the sort of massage a hairdresser would be revered for. I mean, I’m the one kneeling and⁠—

I moan, leaning forward and licking the tip of his cock. His groan is worth overbalancing and nearly impaling myself throat-deep on him. The fingers tangled in my hair pull me back enough to save me and then slowly lever me forward.

I let him take control, pressing my thighs together, but no amount of rubbing is enough to alleviate the pressure building there.

“Please, I need you,” I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes.

“Yeah.” He swallows hard as I suck him down and come back up for air. “Hell, girl. You’re torture like that.” West pulls me back. “Use your hands?”

It takes me a second to work out that he means the condom. I nod and finally manage to unravel the thing, sliding it over the thick length. He lets me play with him, squeezing my hand around his girth with light fingers. West’s eyes drift shut and his head falls back on a groan. Suddenly his hand closes on mine in a tight grip. He pumps our joined hands on his cock once, then again, but then he pushes my hand away.

“I wanna last for you,” he says hoarsely. “Crawl to the edge of the bed.”

I watch him as I back toward the edge of the bed. He swings his legs off and grabs my hips, running his hands along my sides and down the backs of my thighs. I shiver when he traces his fingers along my slit, gathering my arousal and spreading it around.

“West,” I whimper.

“Turn around.” He positions me at the edge of the bed and then pushes me forward.

I bow at the waist, letting my top half fall forward. My forearms balance me, the sensation of his thumb skating along my spine drawing a cry from my lips.

West mutters something I don’t understand, and then he notches at my entrance and pushes into me with a swift thrust. Pleasure builds fast inside, but unlike the first time, he doesn’t draw it out. I cry out into my hands, but when that isn’t enough to suppress my sounds, I stretch forward and grab a pillow to stuff my face into.

The hand traveling along my spine grips my neck and pushes me face down into the pillow as West arcs his body over mine. “Turn your head to the side so you can breathe, gorgeous. But scream quietly so I can fuck you hard.”

I grip the arm he slides beneath me, using it as leverage, and do as he says. Because when West really starts to fuck me, I need to hold on.