I slip on top of him and circle my arms around his neck. “This is cozy.”
Reeve kisses me, drawing my bottom lip taut between his teeth. “Just wait. It’s gonna get real hot.”
The promise in his voice makes me tremble. “It seems someone was planning this.”
“You bet your sweet ass.” He unfastens his jeans, tugging a familiar-looking square from the pocket. The foil packet rips between his teeth. He’s sheathed and ready within seconds. “Fast and dirty okay with you?”
My eyes fixate on his cock bobbing a friendly hello. “Uh-huh.”
Reeve grips my hips and slams me down onto his dick in one swift motion. I drop my jaw in a quiet hiss at the invasion. He stretches me to the point of pain, but the tingling heat drowns out any pinch of discomfort. I have no moment of reprieve, not that I want one. I get no warning before he lifts me for a second brutal plunge. The fullness is a shock to my system, and I clench on instinct.
He grunts and nips at my chin. “Damn, babe. Go easy on me.”
“You’re one to talk,” I moan.
But our conversation comes to an abrupt halt as he treats me to another harsh jab. He bucks into me, setting a punishing rhythm. I bounce from the momentum, gripping his shoulders for support. The resounding echo of our skin making contact is a filthy soundtrack. That hollow slap prods me to make a faster beat. Nothing sensual brews between our bodies at the moment. The spank of flesh connecting carries a very particular tune. This is pure fucking in every sense of the word.
We’re driven by pleasure, seeking that high that will send us soaring into numbing bliss. I reach for that peak while grinding down onto his cock. He hits a spot so deep that I release a silent scream, my inner muscles rippling with a preview of the finale. Sweat teases my hairline with a tickle. I notice moisture dots his brow. Setting a demanding pace, we bolt toward the gates of euphoria. We push each other faster and harder with each rotation.
The small space smells of primal lust and syrupy satisfaction. A long inhale gets me lightheaded, and I fold against him for a brief pause. The windows steam with a thick coating of fog. A distant memory from a scene in Titanic blossoms through the curtain of heat. I slap my palm against the glass, dragging to make a memorable mark. A sluggish grin crooks my mouth at the sight.
Reeve grabs a fistful of my hair, giving the roots a ruthless yank. My neck snaps backward from the force. His teeth scrape along the tender column of my throat. This borders on the right side of rough, yet I’ve never felt so cherished. While we use one another to sate our hunger, he watches me constantly for cues that it’s too much. He won’t see any signs of distress from me. I never want this savage joining to end.
With a moan, I rock into him while he hammers deeper. Reeve kneads my breast through the material of my dress. My nipples pebble into tingling points, demanding attention. His fingers latch onto that greedy tip with a pinch that makes me squeal. I flutter my lashes as furious yearning pulses from my center. It’s game over when his thumb finds my clit and lavishes that tiny bundle with rapid flicks.
Pressure releases with a spasm that paralyzes my limbs. I reach the ledge and teeter for only a second before tumbling into the abyss. My vocal cords strain as I cry in relief. Reeve bellows below me, giving a final upward thrust that locks us into a singular spiral. We’re clutching to one another as all else fades. The edges of my vision blur, and I clench my eyes shut to allow this all-consuming fire to burn through me.
I collapse onto his chest, swaying forward and back from our panting breaths. My entire lower half slumbers blissfully in a puddle of nirvana. Even my toes snore. Moving even an inch requires far too much effort. All I can manage is another dopey smile.
A languid thud pumps through me with the fading aftershocks. “That was… something else.”
Reeve’s chuckle puffs at my tangled hair. “Too rough?”
“Not at all,” I wheeze.
“Driving a tractor will never be the same again,” he muses.
“I would sure hope not.” My hips swivel on their own.
The sound he makes is one of disbelief. “Again?”
A throaty scoff rips from me. “That’s not a question. We’re definitely doing that again, farmer.”
I stare out my front window as an unrelenting blizzard wreaks havoc on Bampton Valley. The glass frosts over, a layer of ice stealing clarity, but the view couldn’t be more telling. No one is going anywhere today, not safely at least.
A chill skips down my spine as another gust carries frozen clumps across the yard.
The sight isn’t even pretty. Usually, I revel in the year’s first snowfall, but not now. This is heavy and thick and heartbreaking. The plows don’t bother to clear the streets. Adding salt at this point would only sting my wounds. I squint, trying to decipher where the sidewalk and Oak Lane split. I have zero doubt that driving conditions are horrific at best. Anyone who dares to try is braver—and more reckless—than me.
The coffee in my mug has gone cold, but I take a sip regardless. A frigid tang with hints of bitterness matches my mood. That’s precisely why I’m still guzzling stale caffeine at one o’clock in the afternoon. This weather in late November is no shock. But why today? I should’ve left for home hours ago. Instead, I’m stuck inside and far from home. This will be my first Thanksgiving away from my family.
An upbeat ringtone shatters the silence of my caving chest. It’s almost as if a beacon is connected to my internal wallowing. I glance at the screen, and a wobbly smile cracks my lips.
