“Like that?” he asked.
“Harder,” she begged. “Oh please, harder.”
He did it again, tentatively adding a bit more pressure. He could tell from the way her head tossed that it wasn’t enough, but damn, her woman’s flesh was so delicate, he didn’t want it cut up.
Catching him by surprise, she yanked on his hair and threw her hips up at the same time, driving his chin into her swollen clit. “Yessss!”
He almost came at the sound of her gratification. Using one hand to steady her hips, he slid the other down to his pants. He let her ride his chin however she wanted, while he pulled his cock free. He paused for a heart beat to smear his hand with her copious juices. Wrapping his fist around his painfully aroused flesh, he started pumping while grinding his rough chin against her hard clit. He worried about hurting her, but she liked it rough, and anything less had her sobbing in frustration. Suddenly, with no warning, her body convulsed and she arched her hips into his face, grinding and screaming, her body jerking in powerful spasms. It was all he needed for his own orgasm to crash over him. As his seed jetted out onto the floor, he twisted his face into her pussy, capturing her little clit between his lips, holding it firmly as he sucked it while the crashing waves of pleasure took him out of himself. He felt her struggle to get away, but something primitive in him refused to let her deny him anything. Least of all, the taste of her satisfaction, the way he wanted it.
He sucked harder. She screamed again and the spasms began again, throwing her cunt against his mouth before she tried to jerk away, but he wasn’t letting her get away. He clamped his lips down and followed the bucking of her hips. He would never let her leave him. She was his.
It was her sobs that got his attention. And her pleas for mercy. He came back to himself to find her jerking under his mouth.
“Shhhh, darlin’,” he murmured, reluctantly releasing her clit. It made a little popping sound as it sprang into the air.
She groaned and shuddered.
He pulled back and assessed the damage. Her beautiful cunt was swollen and red. Her entire pussy looked well loved. Her scent enveloped him. A combination of satisfied woman and vanilla.
He stood. She curled onto her side. Her ribs heaved with her efforts to breathe. It was almost a rejection. He pulled her dress down and leaned over the table to see her face.
“You okay?” he asked, stroking her wild tangle of hair.
She groaned again, and then grabbed his thigh. Before he could figure out what she had planned, she dragged herself around until her mouth was lined up with his groin. His knees buckled when she took his softening cock into the heat of her mouth.
He froze, not knowing what to do. She seemed content to hold him in her mouth, suckling him gently while her breathing slowly returned to normal. He stroked her hair and murmured soothing nonsense, until with a soft sigh, she released him. His cock waved enthusiastically in the air, clearly up for another round. She stroked him lazily with her hand.
“When you put him in my mouth, what’s that called?”
Of all the things he expected her to say, that hadn’t been it. “You’re sucking my cock.”
She frowned, squeezing him lightly and smiling when his cock jerked in reaction. “No. What’s it called when you do it to me?”
He cleared his throat. “Fucking your face.”
She looked him straight in the eye, her gaze slumberous and heavy lidded. She tugged his eager cock toward her and said, “Fuck my face, Asa.”
Chapter Six
The one bad thing about having a husband who could handle things was that it left no excuse for avoiding housework. Dipping her white rag in water, Elizabeth swatted at a few drifting dust motes before going back to wiping down the parlor lamp’s milk glass dome. She tried very hard to keep her eyes on the job, but the late summer sunshine kept taunting her through the lace curtains. Every now and then, a rose scented breeze would waft in, fluttering the curtains and stirring up all kinds of longings. She scrubbed at a soot mark and tried not to imagine how good it would feel to be riding into the mountains, maybe stopping at the swimming hole for a dip.
She paused, sighed and then took herself to task. There’d been a time when her impulses had ruled her life, but not anymore. Being impulsive could cost a person their home, family and everything they thought true about themselves. She wasn’t an immature child, incapable of understanding the consequences of her actions or the depth of her responsibilities. She was a lady and a ranch owner. Ladies didn’t cavort around the countryside unescorted, let alone take dips in swimming holes. They tended to the house, pretended they didn’t sweat, and smiled, even if they were melting in the heat faster than a candle on a stove.