The Rancher's Untamed Heart (4 page)

We showed up at his place with our Thai food in one bag and two pints of ice cream in another, laughing and shoving each other as we went up the steps to his condo.

“I can’t wait to have this,” I said, holding up the bag with the ice cream in it.

“Forget about the ice cream, I can’t wait to have you,” he said, and pulled me close for a searing kiss right there on his front steps. My toes actually curled with pleasure.

He kissed up my neck, under the streetlight, and whispered in my ear “I’m going to fuck you until you see stars.”

I turned to catch his lips in another kiss.

When we parted for breath, I leaned up to whisper back in his ear, "I can't wait."

He growled, a primal sound that send lust shooting all the way to my toes, and his hand shot into his pocket for his keys.

He unlocked his front door and let it swing open, tossing his keys into the bowl on the table just inside the door.

"Oh, time to go in already?" I asked in a mock-innocent tone.

Justin grabbed my hand and pulled me firmly into the house. As soon as he shut the door, he had me pressed against it, trapped there by his strong body.

I wanted to feel safe and protected in his arms, but I couldn't pretend to myself that I did. I felt like I was watching myself, and I knew what I should be feeling, but all I felt was desire.

Apparently I winced, because he pulled away.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “My hair was caught behind me.”

It wasn't fair to him that I didn't feel what I wanted to, after all. I didn't want to ruin the moment – after all, it was a good moment, shaping up to be an excellent one.

I pulled my hair from between me and the door and let it drape over my shoulders.

He grinned at me and claimed my mouth in another expert kiss. His hand moved up to grab one of my breasts in a strong, assured motion, and he found my hard nipple through my shirt, tracing little patterns around it with his thumb.

I moaned and leaned against him, enjoying the feel of his muscular body against mine. Through his thin wool trousers I could feel how hard he was.

I bucked against him and was rewarded with a small moan.

“God, I want to feel your mouth,” he said. “Will you get on your knees for me?”

I would.

I sank to my knees right there in the entryway. He backed up to give me a little room, and unzipped his fly to free his shaft from the pants and boxers he was wearing.

As I opened my mouth and leaned forward, I shut my eyes and breathed in the rich scent of him.

I leaned forward until my tongue was touching the underside of the head of his cock, licking off the bead of pre-cum glistening there with a flick of my tongue.

He tasted salty, but not unpleasantly so.

I adjusted my hand on his shaft and leaned forward, taking his cockhead into my mouth and flicking my tongue against the underside, licking away the precum as it appeared.

Carefully, I sucked on the heavy organ in my mouth. I stopped flicking my tongue and began running it in circles around the head.

Justin reached his hand down and wrapped it around my own, slowly moving it up and down his thick shaft, from my lips to the root. After three long strokes, he let go of my hand.

"Keep stroking," he said quietly.

How could I disobey a command like that, when I was enjoying feeling how hot and strong the shaft in my hand was? I was pleased to have made him so hard, pleased to have him ready and willing to fuck my mouth. Having Justin desire me turned me on, even if he got a little bossy in bed.

Or, well, in the entryway, I thought, and laughed around his cock.

After I teased him for a few moments, just the tip of his cock in my mouth as I flicked my tongue against the underside, I started bobbing my head a little bit, spreading my saliva along his length, my hand and my mouth meeting in the middle.

I tried to take him too deeply into my mouth and choked a little.

"Easy," he said. His voice, already deep, was even lower than normal, with that edge of raspiness that turned my knees to jelly. "Don't hurt yourself, now."

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He was smiling at me and I smiled back around his thick member.

Shutting my eyes, I returned to my task, focusing on the softness of his skin and the musky smell of him, the comforting warmth of his body. I could feel tingles in my nipples and below, a fire burning that I didn't know how to put out.

"I'm going to put my hand on your head, okay, Naomi?" he asked.

I nodded, still focusing on his cock and the feelings it was stirring in me.

His hand wrapped around the base of my skull and tangled into my hair, careful not to pull the strands.

He didn't force his cock deeper into my mouth, but he did apply a gentle pressure, speeding up my pace and setting the rhythm that worked for him.

It was pleasant, not to have to think about how to suck his cock, to simply enjoy the feelings and have him set the rhythm.

I reached down with one hand and stroked myself through my sundress in an effort to relieve the ache that was building there.

He stopped and took his hand off of the back of my head, pulling his cock slowly out of my mouth.

"Do you need some attention?" he asked, with a slow smile.

“I wouldn't say no to that,” I said.

He leaned down and took my hand, pulling me up. I kicked my shoes off into the corner and headed up the stairs to the bedroom, taking two or three steps at a time, running and laughing until I got to his bedroom.

His bed had a thick, wonderfully soft, eggplant-colored comforter on it. I pulled it back and tossed it to the end of the bed before I unzipped my sundress and stepped out of it, leaving it pooled by the side of the bed. Everything else I was wearing soon joined the little pile, and I climbed, bare naked, into his bed.

Justin was just behind me, naked almost as quickly – although he laid his clothing over a chair in the corner – and in bed and all over me almost as soon as he was in the room.

He cupped my breasts in both hands, released them, and bent over to lick and nip at my nipples. Every touch inflamed my desire, and I continued to writhe under him.

After giving my nipples a few minutes of attention, he reached down and pulled my jeans and my thong off, leaving me bare before him.

He spread my legs easily and knelt between them, running one finger down in a slow path from my belly button down between my legs, making a frustrating detour around my clit, and finding my dripping entrance. He pushed his finger inside, experimentally, and found that it slid easily in as deep as it could go. He added another finger, stretching me pleasantly as I thrust against his hand, trying for more stimulation.

With his other hand, he started to rub slow circles around my clit, teasing me with little waves of pleasure as he inserted another finger inside me, taking great care to stretch my body slowly and gently.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

I nodded and spread my legs for him to have easier access.

As I pulled him close, we joined in a fast rhythm, hard and desperate until I crossed the edge and cried out in pleasure.

He sped up, slightly, and came in a few short, hard strokes.

We lay side by side, spent and sated, basking in the glow of our orgasms. It took me a moment to get my breath back, and when I did I curled on my side to look at him, enjoy the sight of his naked form, trail my fingers down his chest.

Justin smiled lazily at me.

“The ice cream is melting,” he said.

I laughed. “Where did it end up, anyways?”

“Still in the hallway,” he said.

“I'll take care of it,” I said. I got up slowly and padded down the stairs, grabbing both of the bags of food and putting them away. I carefully wrote the contents and date on the leftovers with a permanent marker I found in his kitchen drawers before I put them in the near-empty fridge.

“You look good, naked in my kitchen,” Justin said, standing in the entryway.

I gestured to the fridge. “Leftovers and hot sauce. You don't cook a lot, do you?”

He shrugged, unsmiling. “Why should I? I can afford to eat whatever I want and never dirty a pan.”

I looked at the rack of gleaming stainless steel cookware above his stove. “You cooked for me on one of our first dates,” I said. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

“You did your hair on our first dates,” he said. “I guess we were both still trying to impress each other,” he added with a toothy grin.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I opened the freezer door and took out the ice cream I'd chosen.

“Want a snack?” I asked.

“Sure, why not,” he said. “I paid for it, might as well eat it.”

“I would have bought it,” I said, a little stung. I'd offered to pay for things all the time when we had started dating, but he told me that banks paid a hell of a lot more than the USDA, and I should save my money, he was happy to treat me.

“I know you would have,” he said. “It's here, I mean. Let's go ahead and eat it.”

His kitchen stools weren't particularly comfortable, but I didn't suggest eating in front of the television at his place. His living room was immaculate, as perfectly-decorated as I had vaguely intended to make my apartment when I first moved in, and I was afraid that I'd get ice cream on his couch and stain it irreparably.

Scrubbing at a sofa and apologizing didn't seem like a good cap to the evening, so I figured that eating in the kitchen was the safer option.

We spooned the ice cream into bowls and ate quietly, enjoying each other's company. The detour we'd made to have sex had left the ice cream soft and perfect to eat, and I hummed in appreciation of the treat.  I didn't usually splurge on the fancy brand of gelato he chose, it made my favorite flavor – mint chocolate chip – even better.

“Have you ever had any pets?” I asked suddenly. I wanted a dog, but it wasn't fair to keep one in an apartment with the long hours I worked, so I didn't really think about getting one any time soon.

“Nah,” he said. “Too much mess. I like the mess in my house to be made by pretty girls,” he added, winking at me and grinning.