Page 67 of Saddle Storm

He lifts it all the way above my ass, hissing when he finds my lace thong. The one soaked through so much it’s absolutely useless.

“Tell me again about the sting you felt the other night, Bee.”

I gulp.

“Was it anything like this one?” A sharp slap hits my ass, releasing a breathy cry.

“Is that a yes?”

I breathe hard. “No. It was harder than that.”

A tighter slap, same spot.

“Yes,” I cry louder and rock my hips.

He curses behind me and cups me around my soaked panties, hissing like the jerk’s surprised.

“Silas,” I beg again.

He rubs circles from behind, pressing against my clit. “God, Silas.” I yank on the bands.

He stops suddenly. “What is it? You want me to stop? Is there a toy you have in mind to help things along the way?”

“At this point, anything will,” I breathe.

“Is that so?” He strips my panties, pulling them down over my boots, then slipping them in his pocket, before going over to the sink to wash his hands.

I keep myself from squirming as he heads back my way and lifts my skirt again, dropping to his knees in front of me. With his good hand on my thigh, he looks up at me—before lunging two fingers inside me.

Gah. My upper body springs forward but the bands pull me back. He curses appreciatively before quickly replacing his fingers with his mouth. His tongue slides against my folds and I barely suppress a groan. I feel him smile against me, teasing me, playing with me like it’s his new addiction.

Finding my clit expertly, he sucks me into his mouth, gripping my ass with both hands, holding me still while my hands itch to dig into his hair.

“More,” slips out of my mouth in a whisper as my head falls back. The post and beam he used dangerously close to tumbling with every tug.

He fucks me with his tongue, strong and urgent, welcoming my hips as they rock against him. My moans are out of control, my breath hitching when his thumb rubs circles along my clit.

“Christ you’re perfect,” he mutters before smothering himself in my pussy again and it’s all it takes.

My knees weaken and I cry out, coming hard against his mouth, screaming his name. “Silas, God.” I swing against him, feeling like I’m floating in space, but tethered to his mouth, as he drags out my orgasm.

It’s the most erotic sight.

Unfairly interrupted by the sound of a . . . tractor? It’s distant, but a hard reminder of where we are.

“Silas.”

He stands and kisses me, letting me taste myself on his lips. “You’re so goddamn sexy.” He searches my eyes. “It’s a shame you don’t trust me, Bee. Because I haven’t had enough of you to stop here. And I’m not sure you want to either.” Another soft kiss before he unhooks the bands from the post and beam and rubs my wrists gently, keeping his eyes on them. And it’s almost like this is the part where he’s supposed to walk away but doesn’t know how to.

“I’m going to give you space. But I need you to know it’s not because I’ve had my taste of you and I’m done—not by a long shot. I care about you and Max. I’m not going to hurt you—” He swallows and steps back. “But I also won’t keep pushing if you’re waiting for me to prove you right.”

Something in my chest caves in. Trusting he won’t leave us is one thing, but finding out my secret . . . “Silas, you don’t understand. There’s a giant step back we need to take before—”

“Then you go ahead and take it.” Another step back. “But you’re not the only one protecting their heart.”

23

I’m lying awake on Friday morning, my fifth day waking up on the ranch and I’ve got a feeling the girls were right that day when they helped me pack up some things—I’m not going to want to go back. And I know Max is counting on me choosing to stay. Especially since he gets an extra fifteen minutes of sleep every morning and we’re not rushing to get something to eat. Wes insists we stop at The Shack before heading to school in the mornings and he has breakfast and lunch ready to go for Max.