Braving The Storm: An Age Gap, Cowboy Romance (Crimson Ridge Book 2)

“Mmmfuck. Grab my hair, darlin’.”

That deep voice I’m addicted to, breaks through my dream. Half asleep, my body rides wave after wave of pleasure, before I find myself nudged away from slumber and dragged into a waking state.

Under the command of Storm’s tongue.

He hums against my clit, and of course, I do exactly as he instructs me to. My hands find a sleepy path to settle in his hair, threading my fingers, while my hips shift and lift beneath his mouth.

“Good girl.” He licks and sucks and speaks into me as my legs start shaking. Proving just how long this man has been between my thighs while I’ve been asleep.

My cowboy doesn’t let up on his assault, groaning and running a wet glide of his tongue up the inner swell of my thigh, before he climbs up the bed to spoon my languid figure from behind, hitches one leg, and slides into me.

I’m soaked and swollen, and my body is so ready to welcome him inside already.

It’s insanely hot.

“God, it’s too much.” My voice is raspy and absolutely doesn’t mean a word I’m saying. The fact this man has been eating my pussy while I’ve been sleeping is filthy, and I’m more than hopeful he’ll treat me to this special kind of depravity every morning.

“Too much? You didn’t seem to think so when I had you riding my face at three a.m.”

The moans coming out of me are borderline pornographic.

“Mmmm. That’s exactly what you sounded like, too. Except much, much louder.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

“That tight little pussy of yours disagrees. The way you keep clamping down harder says you don’t want me to stop.”

Storm keeps thrusting his hips against mine, stretching me, filling me, leaving me clutching the sheets, helplessly spun out of my mind with pleasure. The sounds of filthy, wet fucking are the soundtrack to this moment, along with skin slapping against skin, and the scent of sex wrapping around us.

I’m oh so close to losing it when a sharp noise, a jarring bang—oh god, a car door slamming—bursts in on our private moment.

“Briar?” Hardly a few seconds later, there’s an insistent rapping of knuckles against wood to accompany the muffled sound of my name, followed by the thud of the door swinging shut.

My sister’s voice carries through, louder this time, as I hear her dumping her coat and bag. Of course, she let herself in.

“You didn’t lock the door earlier?” I let out something between a whisper and a gasp.

“Didn’t exactly think we’d get interrupted at this time of the morning.” Storm whispers back. I scrunch my eyes, because bless him for getting up at the crack of dawn to stoke the fire, but damn him for forgetting to lock the door after fetching more wood.

“Briar, I swear to god, if you’re still in bed…”

My entire body clenches up. Meanwhile, the man at my back remains buried inside me, still slowly pumping his hips, fucking me from behind, seemingly without any intention of stopping.

“Tell her to go away, or I’m going to walk out there butt naked and tell her myself.” He nips my ear and tightens his hold on my upper thigh, making it impossible for me to do anything but remain pinned in place.

“I just got out of the shower, Cris. Give me a few minutes to get dressed.” My pussy ripples and pulses, giving away just how my body reacts to exactly this kind of risky moment.

Storm makes a wicked noise, a quiet laugh, feeling everything.

“Fine.” She grumbles. “Hurry up. It’s medieval that there’s no cell phone reception here, I had to drive all this way just to find you moping around.”

At my ear, there’s another delicious noise, I can only imagine what the man owning my body is thinking right at this moment.

“Where’s Uncle Stôrmand?”

Shit. Shit.

This time I really do begin to panic. It sounds like she’s walking closer. All the while, I can feel the crest of another orgasm coming up to claim me.

This is so messed up.

“You gonna tell her where I am?” He whispers, lips fastened against my neck. “That I’m balls deep inside your pretty little cunt?”

I’m unable to stop tightening around him on reflex. Goosebumps fly across my arms.

“Uhh, I don’t know where he is.” The door to the bedroom hangs wide open, and I can’t drag my eyes away from the gaping wooden frame. “He didn’t come back here last night.”

“Then why is his truck parked outside?” Her icy tone floats the few feet separating us from where she stands in the lounge.

Fuck, right now, this right here is the moment I completely freak out.

Storm slows his movements, but only just; his warm, hot mouth stays pressed against my ear. One giant palm slides up to my tits, plucking and strumming my nipples as if he’s got all the time in the world; not like my sister is about two seconds away from bursting in, that she could so easily decide to walk in here at any moment.

“Tell her I was out with friends, Briar.” He instructs me what to say, all the while torturing me and pleasuring me to the point I can’t see straight.

“He… He went out with friends, I think. They came and picked him up. Maybe he crashed there.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip to disguise the whimpering noise threatening to climb up my throat because as I stumble my way through the lie, he starts tugging on my nipples, hard.

Just the way he knows I love them to be handled.

“Jesus.” His rich, rumbling sound leaves a shudder roaming straight down my spine. “Feel how close you are… bet you wanna milk me fucking dry, to get every last drop, the way you’re gripping me like a fist.”

“Oh my god.” I silently chant the words over and over.

“Bet he was with one of his whores.” My sister makes an ugly sound in the back of her throat.

He hums, not sounding pissed off, in fact, he sounds extremely self-satisfied.

“If only she knew. I’ve got my own pretty little slut right here.” Teeth scrape my neck, and his palm slips down between my thighs. “My perfect, beautiful thing who wears my cuff, my hat, and was made to take my cock.” He sucks on my earlobe and rubs my slickness all over my clit, and I nearly forget everything about why I have to be quiet, barely hanging on by a fraying thread, instead of straight up moaning out loud.

My sister continues to loiter. The sound of pacing footsteps on the wooden floor and the sound of cupboards opening and closing as she pokes around tells me exactly where she is in the kitchenette.

Storm is intentionally dragging this out; he knows how unbelievably close I am, and there’s no chance he’s going to let me come until my sister leaves.

Letting out a frustrated noise, Crispin stamps her foot. “For pity’s sake, Briar, I’m not waiting around while you take all day. I’ll meet you at that awful cafe in town for breakfast, and we’re talking about you coming home.”

She starts moving away; for the love of god, I hope the sound of the door shutting and her car engine is going to come any second now.

Except, the door opens, and there’s no familiar thud to indicate that she’s finally left.

“Oh my god, will she ever leave,” I gasp, fists balling up in the sheets when he picks up the pace, seemingly unconcerned that our intruder hasn’t yet departed. My head turns into his arm beneath my head, and my teeth connect with his skin. There’s no other way I can stop myself from whining or crying out.

“His boots are here.” She calls out.

There’s too much suspicion in her voice.

I can’t hold on much longer, but I somehow spit out a reply. One that hopefully says fuck right off.

“Pretty sure he’s got more than one pair of boots, you know.”

Storm curses something rich and approving, then starts pumping into me, sinking as deep as he can go.

Stars form behind my eyes.

“Fine, whatever. God, you need to sort your shit out and get out of bed earlier in the day. I always knew you were lazy, but this is next level, Briar.”

The door slams.

Behind me, there’s a growl, a deep noise that rumbles straight through from his chest pressed against my back.

He flips us, so that I’m on my hands and knees, and drives into me ruthlessly.

Sweet relief floods my veins when I hear the car start and pull away.

Storm fucks me so hard, so powerfully, I’m drooling and biting down on the pillow as he tells me all the filthy things he knows I want to hear right now. That I’m his. I belong to him. I’ve got his cuff on, and that means he gets to own my body whenever and however he wants, his perfect little fucktoy.

“Come right fucking now. I want you to come harder than you’ve ever fucking come in your life.”

As he fists my hair and snakes a hand round to find my clit, everything consumes me.

“That’s it, my beautiful whore.”

My toes curl, a low moan rips out of me, as I blank completely. White spots take over my vision and I’m pretty sure my hearing disappears along with my sanity.

With a groan, his hips stutter, then he buries himself as far as he can go. His cock pulses into me, throbbing inside my pussy as my climax feels like it never ends.

It’s so intense, I’m left in a daze. Simply melting against the man who wraps me up in his arms. My Storm, who pulls me into his chest with murmured words and wet kisses that coat me from head to toe in nothing but the sweetest, kindest, softest embrace.

Right then and there, the words hang on my lips, and desperate need aches behind my ribs. I want to tell him how much I love him.

Yet, the familiar awful, gnawing feeling holds me back, insipidly reminding me of a poison spreading from its source.

Uttering those words might be the truth, but it would be the worst thing I could possibly curse him with.