Page 13 of Dirty Sweet Cowboy

"Wayne," I breathe, not even sure what I'm asking for.

"You like that idea, angel?" His lips quirk up at the corner, knowing. "Like thinking about me being your first? Your only?"

Yes. God, yes. The thought of his large hands on my body, his mouth against my skin, his cock—which I've only felt pressed against me through layers of clothing—filling me completely…it's overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Yes," I admit, finding courage in his obvious desire. "I want that. I want you."

His eyes darken further, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of green remains. "You have me. Every rough, possessive inch of me. I'm already yours."

The certainty in his voice washes away the last of my doubts. I may be inexperienced, but I know what I want. Who I want. This man who opened his home to me, who looks at me like I'm something precious, who promises to take care of me in every way.

"When?" I ask, bolder now. "When will you…when will we...?"

I don’t get to finish my question before Wayne’s lips crash onto mine with a growl.

ten

. . .

Wayne

I can't hold back anymore. Not after her confession that confirmed what I already suspected. Not after she demanded to know when like she can’t wait either. The knowledge that no other man has ever tasted her, touched her, been inside her burns through me like wildfire, setting off something primitive and possessive in my chest. Mine. She'll be mine. Mine only. I deepen the kiss that started as a brush of lips, my hand sliding from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her in place as I slant my mouth over hers. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat—surprise and pleasure mixed together—and opens for me instantly, eager and trusting in a way that makes my cock throb painfully behind my zipper.

My tongue slides against hers, teaching her the rhythm, showing her how good it can be between us. She's a quick learner, mimicking my movements, getting bolder with each passing second. Her small hands clutch at my shirt, bunching the fabric in her fists like she's afraid I'll pull away again.

Not this time, angel. This time I'm giving you what we both want.

I break the kiss only to trail my lips along her jaw, down the slender column of her throat. Her pulse flutters beneath my mouth like a trapped bird. She smells incredible—something floral mixed with the clean scent of soap and the musk of arousal that I can already detect, making my nostrils flare with hunger.

"Wayne," she breathes, head falling back to give me better access to her neck. "Please."

She doesn't even know what she's begging for. Doesn't understand the depth of pleasure waiting for her. But she will. I'll show her.

"Stand up," I murmur against her skin, pulling back just enough to help her to her feet.

She complies immediately, trusting me completely. We're still on the porch, the swing creaking as my weight leaves it. The night has fully settled around us, nothing but stars and the distant chorus of crickets for witnesses.

I take her hand and lead her down the porch steps, out onto the lawn where the grass is soft and cool beneath our feet. The moon is nearly full, casting enough light to see by. To see her—cheeks flushed, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes wide with anticipation and nerves.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," I tell her, cupping her face in both hands. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

She shakes her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Growing bolder by the second.

I kiss her again, unable to resist the temptation of that mouth. While our lips are locked, I walk her backward until she's pressed against the massive oak tree at the edge of the yard. The perfect support for what I have planned.

My hands slide down her sides, mapping the curves of her body through the thin fabric of her sundress. She shivers beneath my touch, nipples tightening into hard peaks that brush against my chest.

"I'm going to taste you," I tell her, voice rough with need. "Going to make you come with my mouth."

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of hazel remains. "Oh," she whispers, the single syllable filled with nervous anticipation.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," I say, though it would kill me to do so. "Any time."

She nods, swallowing visibly. "I trust you."

Those three words hit me harder than any declaration of love could. She trusts me. This innocent, perfect creature trusts me—a man more than twice her age with a hard cock and head full of filthy thoughts—to be her first.

I'm going to make it so fucking good for her.