Change Rein - Anne Jolin Page 0,39

sides. “My, uh . . .” She fumbles for the words. “My periods are really painful, so I’ve been on it for years, but I haven’t”—she watches me nervously, but somehow knows I need to hear her say it—“done this with anyone in a really long time.”

“That’s okay, angel,” I tell her, palming myself through my boxers. “I don’t need to be your first, but I’ll damn sure be your last.”

Her mouth parts, little breaths forcing their way out.

“I’m clean, and it’s been a while for me too, but I want to take you bare. Are you okay with that?”

Messy, blond hair bobs up and down. “Yes. I want to feel you inside me.”

After pushing my boxers down, I kick them to the side while fisting the length of my cock in my hand. Her eyes widen at the sight, but she licks her lips.

I stalk towards her across the bed. While missionary isn’t my favorite position, I want to be able to see her when she comes around me, and I’m not sure pounding into her from behind would do her injury any favors.

Settling between her thighs, I kiss her chastely on the mouth, dragging the head of my dick through the wetness of her folds, coating it in her juices.

I position my cock at the entrance to her pussy and wait until she looks at me to see what the holdup is. “You are mine, London.”

She glares at me, probably wanting to put my ass in its place for saying caveman shit, as she calls it, but I cut her off.

“And I’m yours. This is about more than fucking for me. This is about us.”

The glare softens to something warmer.

And as I push inside her for the first time, I whisper into her ear, “I love you.”

Her fingers entangle themselves into my hair again, pulling and tugging as I slide in and out of her.

“So tight.” I say it like it’s painful, but it’s absolutely fucking perfect. The walls of her pussy are clamping down on me so hard that I’m not sure I’ll last a goddamn second.

She rocks her hips up in time with my thrusts, and we move together like I knew we would—heavenly. It doesn’t take long before we’re both starved for release, our slick bodies working up heat as we claim each other.

“I’m going to come!” she gasps, her mouth searching for mine.

Kissing her hard, I press my forehead to hers. “Come for me, London.”

She does, calling out my name at the same time I growl into her neck, our bodies left heaving and clinging to one another.

“Damn,” she whispers.

Rolling to my side, I take her with me, pulling her up against my chest. “Is your ass okay?” My concern is evident in the tone of my voice, even with my cock still inside her.

“Always the gentleman. Only you would be concerned about my ass after just fucking me to within an inch of my life.” She laughs, tucking her head into the space between my neck and shoulder. “But yes, my ass is just fine, cowboy.”

I trail my hands up and down her back. “I like when you call me that.”

“I know.”

Her lips curl into a smile against my skin before sleep quickly takes us both.

MY EYES FLUTTER.

Once.

Twice.

A sound in the distance tugs at my brain. Finally, I register the sound of someone knocking on the front door. Sometime during the night, our bodies disconnected, and mine now mourns the loss of his as I lift my head off his chest.

The clock on the nightstand reads eight-thirteen a.m., and even for a barn girl, that’s early for a Sunday morning. After slipping out of the bed, I pull one of his shirts over my head. Then I find my discarded booty shorts on the floor and put them on.

Quietly, I sneak out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Branson never sleeps in late, and the fact he is still out cold only shows how much he really needs it.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Something buzzes on the table by the front door as I pad across the hardwood floor. After turning over the lock, I open the door so whoever is on the other side doesn’t wake up my very sleepy and very satisfied man.

When my eyes land on that ever-present, stupid braid, I wish I’d stayed curled up on his chest.

“You.” Charlotte scowls, resting her hand on her hip.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her obvious statement. “Yup, me. Good morning. Can