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She's too thin. Her hip bones are sharp under my palms, but her skin is soft and warm.

My hands aren't steady. The last time they shook, I was a kid climbing down onto my first bull.

I walk her backward until her legs touch the mattress and sit her on the edge. Then I slide one arm under her shoulders and one under her hips, below the bruises, lay her back, and move her up the bed.

I slide one pillow under her shoulders and another under her head. The flannel is spread open beneath her, and the sleeves stay down over her wrists.

I toe off my boots and strip my T-shirt off over my head.

She looks over my chest and my arms and the scars across them. Then her gaze drops to my jeans, where my cock is straining against the zipper, and she doesn't pretend she isn't looking.

"Those from bulls or from fights?" she asks.

"Both."

"Figures."

I kneel on the bed beside her and start at her collarbone. I drag my mouth along it and taste salt on her skin. I work my way down, going around every bruise.

Her breast fills my hand. I run my thumb over her nipple until it pulls even tighter. Then I take it in my mouth and suck, and her back comes up off the pillow. She draws a breath through her teeth.

"Ribs," I warn her against her skin. "Easy."

"Then quit doing that."

"No."

I do the same to her other breast, and this time I use my teeth, just enough to sting.

She arches up into my mouth for more and swears at the ceiling because it feels so good. Her fingers twist in the quilt.

I come back up her body and run my mouth along her jaw, then under her ear. I bite the soft skin there, and her whole body jolts.

I go back down her body. I put my mouth on her lower belly, then on the inside of each hip bone. I settle between her thighs, spread them wide with my shoulders, and lay one hand flat across her lower belly to pin her hips.

She pushes up on her right elbow to watch me, even though it hurts.

I watch her right back while I lower my head. I hold my mouth just off her. I let her feel my breath against her until her thighs tremble.

I put my mouth on her pussy. She's already wet, hot and swollen under my tongue.

I lick her slow from bottom to top with the flat of my tongue. Then I circle her clit, light at first and then firmer, until her thighs start to shake against my shoulders.

When she tries to lift her hips, I press them back down and keep the same pace.

She makes a sound that's half a growl and half my name.

Her good hand comes off the quilt and fists in my hair. She pulls, hard, trying to drag me where she wants me.

I reach up with my free hand and take hers by the palm, keeping my fingers off her wrist. I lay it back on the quilt and hold it flat there until her fingers quit fighting me.

Then I let go of her hand and go back to exactly where I was. I bring her right to the edge and ease off. I do it again, and then a third time, until she's panting and her stomach is trembling under my palm.

She calls me a bastard through her teeth. Her hand stays where I put it.

I push one finger into her, then two. She's tight and wet, and she clenches around my fingers. I curl them and stroke the spot that makes her hips jerk, and I suck her clit at the same time.

She comes against my mouth. Her thighs clamp around my head, and her whole body goes tight and then shudders. She bites down on the cry she wants to make, but I hear it anyway, raw and low in her throat.