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“I’m right here with you, giving you the only cock you’ll ever need. And you’re the only woman I’ll ever need. Do you understand?”
I don’t answer at first, too consumed by him. He tugs at the ends of my hair, drawing my head back. “Tell me you understand?”
I nod, one hand on his hat to keep it in place. If he stops, I’ll scream. “I understand.”
“Understand what?”
I’m so worked up, speaking is a challenge. “Yours is the only cock I’ll ever need. Now, please, move, Tate.”
And he does. When his pelvis meets my ass, his balls slapping against my clit, I almost collapse at the fullness. Tate’s strong arm bands around my middle, keeping me upright, as he slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip in.
“If you could see what I see. My dick covered in your sweet juices. I love watching us.” Without warning, his hips snap forward.
“Tate!” The air rushes from my lungs, and there isn’t a moment to refill them when he repeats the move. And again. And again. Until my words dissolve into moans and cries. All I can manage is short gasps of “Yesyesyes” and “Moremoremore.”
“Fuck,” Tate grits behind me, his grip bruising. “I wanted to drag this out, torture you a little, but I can’t stop.”
“Don’t stop. Don’t. Keep going.” I arch my back, drawing him deeper until the blunt head of his cock drags over my G-spot with every thrust. “Jesus. Tate. I’m going to come.”
“Give it to me. Come on my cock, wife.” He punctuates the last word with one final, punishing thrust, and then I detonate into a million pieces, floating up into the clouds.
A second later, Tate snatches himself from my body and hot liquid splashes across my ass and lower back.
“Jesus fuck.” His forehead bumps into my spine as he slumps over me. “You okay?”
“Yes. I’m…” Perfect. Whole again. Deliciously satisfied. Greedy for more. “I’m good.”
“Shit. Let me clean you up.” I can hear him fumbling around. “Uh, all I have is your underwear.”
I snicker. “Guess we have no choice.”
Tate gently cleans up the mess of his release.
I straighten on wobbly legs, and Tate steadies me by the waist, his gaze on the scrap of lace balled in his fist. Then he freezes. “Fuck. We—I didn’t use a condom.”
A tenderness returns behind my rib cage. “I’m still on the pill.”
“Oh. Of course.” He shakes his head like it’s obvious.
The air sizzles as ice-cold water douses the moment. We’ve gone bare for so long, last year being the first time we didn’t use any protection. A million emotions pass between us.
“I shouldn’t have lost control like that.” He glares at his feet.
I reach for his wrist, squeezing once. “I think we both lost control.”
The crack of the crowd cheering from inside the barn drags our attention away. A sprinkling of stars dot the indigo sky. Another day coming to a close, creeping us closer to the end. Every interaction feels like the penultimate or last. I’m anticipating a call to come every second, demanding his presence back in the city or beyond.
The universe has a sick sense of humor, because as the thought leaves me, his phone rings. I want to slap it out of his hand when he retrieves it from his pocket. Especially when offense slashes across his brow.
It’s over.
Before I’m ready.
“It’s your mom.” He shows me the Caller ID. “Maybe you should answer it.”
I’ve been avoiding her calls all week. I’m judging myself enough as it is. I don’t need her feeding my self-deprecation. Eventually, I’ll have to speak to her. That’s a Monday problem. I tap Decline. Tate doesn’t push or question.
“I wish she’d just text.”