Page 65 of Well Aware

She grinned. “Well, not right here in the open.”

Before she could finish her sentence, I had her over my shoulder and I was taking her to a room beyond the stalls.

When the door shut, there were hundreds of little clink-clinks as bridles and tack were disturbed due to the door slamming shut.

When her feet hit the ground, I was shoving her jacket off of her in the next second.

It landed on the ground in the dirt.

I groaned when I saw a second pair of pants under the overalls.

“Jesus Christ,” I growled. “How many fucking pairs of pants are you wearing?”

“Two,” she breathed, shoving her leggings down along with her overalls and panties. “Hurry.”

I spun her around by the hips and reached into my back pocket for my wallet.

She yanked the wallet from my hand and pulled out the condom from behind my cash as I yanked my belt off and unbuttoned my jeans.

She had the condom out of the wrapper by the time my cock was pulled free from my pants.

I took the condom from her and rolled it on as she bent over the table.

I lined my cock up with her entrance and slowly pushed inside, even though every instinct inside of me was telling me to fill her fast and deep until she screamed.

She groaned when I started to fill her with my cock, pushing harder and harder until I was lodged to the hilt.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted this for so damn long.”

I growled and tightened my hands on her hips.

“There,” I said, twisting my hips. “You have me.”

She clenched on my cock, her muscles tightening and loosening, driving me goddamn wild.

“We don’t have all the time in the world, Beau,” she moaned. “Fuck me.”

So I fucked her.

In long, strong strokes, focusing on that little spot inside of her that I’d learned upon our first time together got her off fast.

The angle, paired with the pace, was enough to have her tightening in minutes.

When I knew that she was about to fall over the edge, I circled my hand around her hip and slid it up under her shirt.

I caught her tit in my hand and squeezed her nipple, causing her to scream.

The only thing keeping that scream from filling the tack room was my free hand leaving her hip to cover those luscious lips.

The table that I had her bent over shuddered under my forceful thrusts, the metal from the halters clinking together on the tack wall above the table.

She went limp in my arms as her orgasm left her replete, and I followed her down as my gut clenched, warning of my own impending orgasm.

“Fuck, baby,” I whispered into her hair. “I wish I was bare inside of you.”

She pressed backward against me, and I took that as her silent vow that she wanted it, too.

Maybe one day.