Page 7 of Claimed By the Cowboys

“Arms up,” he murmurs against my mouth.

I hesitate for half a second as the strong, responsible Brandy who never lets anyone take control rises to the surface. I force her down, then I lift them. Bo catches my wrists in one big hand and pins them gently above my head against the pillow.

A broken sound escapes me. Pure relief.

“There you go,” he praises roughly. “Good girl. Breathe for me. I’ve got you. I know what you need.”

Tears prick my eyes from the sudden, overwhelming release. No lists linger at the edges of my mind. No worries. No one needs anything from me. There’s just Bo’s weight, his calm voice, the restraint at my wrists and the slow drag of his free hand down my body.

He trails his fingers lightly along the edge of my bra, then unsnaps the front clasps with ease. Cool air hits my skin, then the heat of his mouth is on my breast. I gasp, and my back bows off the bed. He takes his time, licking, sucking, scraping his teeth lightly over the dark point of my nipple until I’m squirming beneath him.

“You’ve been carrying too much for too long,” he murmurs against my skin, switching to the other breast. “Tonight, you don’t carry a damn thing.”

I whimper and he releases my wrists only long enough to strip the rest of my clothes away, then catches them again, holding both wrists in one hand while the other slides between my thighs. I’m soaked already. Embarrassingly so. Bo groans when his fingers find me.

“Fuck, Brandy. This sugar all for me?”

I nod frantically, beyond words. His fingers circle my clit with devastating patience, then slide lower, teasing my entrance before pushing inside. Two thick fingers stretch me perfectly and my hips roll up to meet him before I can stop myself.

He kisses me through it, swallowing every desperate sound I make. When his thumb presses against my clit in tight, perfect circles, I start shaking.

“That’s it,” he growls softly. “Let it happen, baby. I’ve got you. You don’t have to hold anything back.”

The orgasm crashes into me hard and fast. I cry out against his mouth, my thighs trembling, and my wrists straining against his grip. He holds me tightly, working me through the pleasure, murmuring praise against my neck—“so pretty,” “so good for me,” “let it all go, sweetheart”—until I’m boneless and panting.

Only then does he release my wrists to tenderly kiss the faint red marks he’s left, before moving down my body. Our eyes meet and a surge of emotion inexplicably wells inside me. We barely know each other, but his touch is familiar and he sees me clearer, understanding my needs better than any man before. He cups my cheek and I turn into it, kissing the center of his palm, grateful and content. His body shudders against mine like he’s as starved of affection and connection as I am and a wave of tenderness for him overwhelms me.

Bo dips to kiss me, tugging my full bottom lip between his, then rubbing his nose against mine. It’s sweet and affectionate and so much more than I expected. Between my legs his cock is iron, but he’s not rushing to satisfy himself. He’s patient and focused on me.

“Ready for more?”

“Yes,” I whisper, cupping his cheek. Even in the gloom of the room, my dark brown skin contrasts against his.

His broad shoulders settle between my thighs, and when his mouth replaces his fingers, my hands fly to his soft, messy hair. Bo groans against me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted as I stare at the ceiling and marvel at his skill and the strange turn this ordinary workday has taken. He licks and sucks with focused intensity, one arm banded across my hips to hold me still when I start to writhe.

The pleasure builds again, sharper this time, until it’s almost too much. One orgasm has always been my max, and I’m so sensitive that there’s an element of pain in pushing for more. Still, I sob his name, digging my heels into his back, watching as he devours me like his favorite dessert. His stubble grazes my inner thighs so deliciously that when I come the second time, it rips through me like lightning. Tears slip down my temples because for the first time in years, I don’t have to hold myself together. It’s okay for me to fall apart because Bo’s got me. I’m safe in his rough cowboy hands.

He rises over me, shedding his shirt and jeans as I stare up at him in awe. His body is beautiful; all hard muscles from real work and dark ink tattoos contrasting against his lightly tanned skin.

He doesn’t ask if he should wrap it. He handles protection like he handles everything else, with maturity and proficiency. When he settles between my thighs again, the blunt head of his cock nudges against me, and I can do nothing but moan for him to take me.

“Look at me,” he says.

When I do, he takes hold of my jaw and grips me firmly, as his stormy blue-gray eyes hold mine. He pushes inside me, stretching me open, and the fullness is overwhelming. Perfect. More perfect than it should be. He’s bigger than any man I’ve had before but seems to fit me like he was designed for me, but it’s the intensity of his eye contact that turns me inside out.

The intimacy in his concentrated attention makes my heart flutter. This is a one-night stand, but it feels like more. He’s watching me, seeing me, holding me hostage in a way that turns me inside out. I moan long and low, digging my nails into his shoulders, wanting it hard and fast, but also slow and deep. Wanting this handsome, rugged man any which way he’ll offer himself.

Bo stills once he’s buried deep, pressing his forehead to mine. “Breathe, Brandy. I’ve got you.”

I blink as tears threaten, but then he starts to move, and I forget all the reasons my grateful emotions are pressing at my fraying seams.

Every thrust is deliberate, deep, and controlled. He holds my wrists again, pinning them beside my head while his hips roll against mine. The slap of skin, our ragged breathing, and his low praise fill the room.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “So tight. So wet for me. That’s right… Take it, Brandy… Take it deep… Fuck… Good girl… Let me take care of you.”

I shatter again, clenching around him, crying out as waves of pleasure roll through me, and Bo fucks me through it, never losing rhythm, murmuring how beautiful I am when I fall apart for him.

When Bo finally lets himself go, it’s with my name on his lips and his face buried in my neck. The weight of him collapsing over me inexplicably seems like the safest place in the world.