The Montana Rancher (The Endeavour Ranch of Grand, Montana 3)

Page 30

His gaze zeroed in on it. She heard him swallow. “Dear God. That’s what case managers consider panties?”
“I can’t speak for everyone. But it’s what I choose to wear.”
“You’re determined to make tomorrow morning as hard for me as possible, aren’t you?” he sighed.
“I’m trying to make you hard tonight,” she replied. She ran a daring palm over the large bulge in his jeans and offered him a sweet smile of satisfaction. “Mission accomplished.”
He growled low in his throat. “Move it along, Elizabeth. You don’t want to know what’s going to happen to you if my control really does snap.”
“You’ve made it this far. I’ll take my chances.” She eased his zipper down, carefully, and slid her hand into his jeans. The impressive bulge sprang free of his boxers.
She wasn’t a stranger to male anatomy, despite her father’s best efforts. She’d had several lovers, although none serious enough to take home to meet her parents. But Ryan, she conceded, brought a whole new level of competition to the game.
She eased his jeans and shorts over his hips, drifting to her knees as she lowered the last of his clothes to the floor. She freed first one foot, then the other, and pushed the garments out of the way. She considered the erect penis standing at attention a few inches above her head. She planned to taste it, too. And as much of him as she could.
But not yet.
She licked the inside of a thigh, well-toned from ranch labor, then got to her feet. She gave the velvety soft head of his penis a brush of her lips as a promise on her way past.
“Take off my panties,” she said.
He slid his hands over the cheeks of her buttocks and down the backs of her legs while he was at it. Since she’d fully expected him to take advantage, and anticipated it with a large degree of excitement, the sensations caused by the rough texture of his work-hardened hands were exquisite. When he’d said he could have her begging for him within two minutes, he hadn’t been kidding.
He needed to be reminded of who was in control. She took hold of one of his hands. “Touch me. Here.” She guided it between her legs.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned her, his jaw muscles flexing.
“I hear a lot of talk. Let’s see some action.” Her words exploded on short clips of breath dripping with need. His losing control didn’t seem like a bad thing, anymore. She was all for it, in fact.
He slid one finger inside her, and began to ease it in and out, stroking her until she could focus on nothing except the pleasure he gave. She wriggled her hips, rubbing against the heel of his palm while encouraging his action. She’d wanted this. She’d wantedhim. She hadn’t realized how much. A quivering began, deep in her lower belly, and she gasped. She was seconds from coming.
He knew it.
“That does it. Game’s over,” he said, and hoisted her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. His mouth nuzzled her throat as he strode to the bed.
“Not yet,” she said, now that she’d had a few seconds of sanity. She eased her hand between their two bodies and cupped the hot, heavy weight of him in her palm. She gently squeezed his shaft, flicking the blunt of her thumb over the damp tip.
He made a sound deep in his throat and flipped her onto her back on the bed. He grabbed for the condom. “Yes, yet.”
She scrambled to her knees and reached for him again. “One more minute.”
“You’ve got thirty seconds. I’m counting.”
She kissed the tip of his penis. She’d never get it all in her mouth, so she concentrated on the head, tracing her tongue around the rim. He dug his fingers into her hair, cradling her head. She clasped the backs of his thighs, feeling their strength as he trembled to keep from thrusting.
She fell back on the bed, tossing her arms above her head on the pillow. She grabbed onto the headboard and parted her knees. “Make me beg,” she commanded. His eyes glittered in the thin moonlight as they ran the length of her naked and exposed inner thighs. She arched her hips. “Any time now.”
He planted one knee on the bed and swung the other across her body. He captured her hands in one of his and leaned on one arm, staring down at her for long seconds. His thick penis throbbed against her belly, demanding attention she longed to give it, but he had her hands pinned.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, running a thumb across her cheek with a gentle, restrained tenderness that shocked her, considering the source.
He sat upright, his weight on his knees, and taking his shaft in his hand, ripped open the packet with his teeth before rolling the condom into place. He positioned himself between her thighs and guided the head of his erection inside her—but only the head. He slowly withdrew, his eyes on her face. Eased in. Withdrew again. By now, Elizabeth was writhing beneath him. He again had her on the brink of an orgasm, and yet seemed in no hurry to satisfy it.
She heard herself begging. She arched her back, trying to take him fully inside her. “Please, Ryan. Now. I’m going to come.”
“Not yet,” he said.