Ride Rough - Tessa Layne Page 0,56

aside. He did the same with her thin tank, exposing her beautiful smooth tits. He cupped her breasts, flicking a thumb over the already taut nipples. "Perfection," he muttered. "You're perfection, Cecilia." She made a noise in the back of her throat, the one that made him instantly hard as steel. He kissed her hard and deep, then made his way down the side of her neck, pausing at the places he knew drove her wild. He claimed a tight bud, tonguing it until she cried out clutching his head, then made his way to the other, working it until she muttered a string of profanity. "Pants," she hissed. "Now."

He helped her off the counter and toed off his boots, sending them flying across the kitchen. It took her even less time to drop her sweats and before his hands were at his belt buckle, she was there, yanking and pulling, shoving and pushing until his cock sprung free, heavy and hard. He stepped out of his jeans, then picked her up and set her ass on the large wooden farm table. "Say the word and I'll run upstairs for a condom." He'd do whatever she asked, without question.

She blinked, gazing up at him with the softest eyes. "I trust you, Trace," she whispered. "I have an IUD."

God help him, but he didn't care. If she'd said she wanted his babies, he'd have enthusiastically complied. His brain fast-forwarded. Hell, he wanted to hear her say those words, damn the consequences. With a growl, he pulled her hips forward, teasing the head of his cock at her entrance, coating himself in her slick heat. He'd never... not even once. He'd been so afraid of a paternity suit, he'd been militant about protection. But this... he needed to be inside Cecilia, filling her up, showing her how he felt. It hit him right in the sternum. He needed her as much as his next breath.

A tremor shook him. He didn't deserve this. He'd do everything in his power to be worthy. "Cecilia." He spoke her name like a prayer as he slowly slid into her tight wet heat, groaning as he felt her clutch around him.

"Oh, Trace," she sighed. "So good."

"So good," he echoed, unable to say other, more important words rioting through his brain. He seated himself fully, then pushed harder, because it wasn't enough. He registered a leg wrapping around him as he drew out and slowly rocked back in as far as he could and then some, because she felt... So. Damned. Good.

"Yes, just like that," she gasped, fingernails digging into his shoulders. "More. I need more."

His chest puffed. He felt... invincible, like a lion ready to roar. With a deep cry she clenched around him as her orgasm hit her. "That's it, baby. Come for me. Let it out." He stroked into her, wanting this to be everything she'd ever hoped for and teetering on the edge of oblivion himself. One more thrust, and his orgasm coiled up the back of his legs, and exploded behind his eyes like a bomb. He didn't recognize the sound from his throat as he pumped and spilled his seed inside her. His vision went fuzzy.

Cecilia sagged against him with a sheepish laugh. "Wow." Her mouth split into a lopsided grin. "You okay?"

Yes. Hell, yes. More than okay. He'd just orbited the moon with her. He nodded, bending to place a tender kiss on her sweet lips. "Perfect."

"Did you... want to talk about something?"

He shook his head. Declarations and confessions could come later. For now, he wanted to bask in the glow of whatever it was that bound them together. "Just nerves about this weekend, I guess."

She reached up, cupping his face - a move he'd never tire of. "I'll be right there watching."

He didn't deserve her blind faith. But he'd work damned hard to earn it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"We're done here," Jaxon said with a clap on the back. "Thanks again for your help."

"Sure thing," Trace answered the next evening. "Happy to help." Better to distract himself with physical labor.

"You headed up to the cowboy dance?"

Trace shook his head. "Not yet. I want to clear my head."

"Ahh," Jax answered with a knowing look. "Sizing up the competition?"

"Something like that." More like figuring out how to manage the competing emotions inside his head.

"These are all good bulls, and you've worked hard. Remember, ninety percent of bull riding is mental. If you're in the right frame of mind tomorrow afternoon, you'll be great." Jaxon's smile