And he pulled me into the barn.
Lily
He spun me around and I went staggering backwards across the floor in my sneakers. I would have fallen if he hadn’t kept hold of my hands. Then I whumped into a soft, prickly wall.
His lips were on me instantly, his tongue slipping into my mouth, and I was panting and opening for him. His urgency, his hunger made me weak. I could actually feel my legs giving a little and I sagged, held up by his hands on mine and the press of his body against me. I’m being kissed up against the hay bales by a cowboy, went through my mind. Along with: this doesn’t happen in New York.
He put one hand on my hip, squeezing me there, while his other hand roamed over my body, sweeping over my shoulder and side, teasing me, making me moan with need before it finally settled on my breast. When I felt his hot palm through my t-shirt, I trembled and gave a little mewl of lust. He didn’t even squeeze at first, just pressed gently, making my breast pillow and bulge under the cotton. I could feel my nipple stiffening in response and knew that he’d be able to feel the hard outline even through my bra.
“You particularly attached to this t-shirt?” he growled between kisses.
It seemed like a strange question. I swear I honestly had no idea what he had in mind. “No.”
His mouth pressed to mine again, taking my upper lip and sucking on it until I moaned and thrashed, then sealing me into a kiss. I was vaguely aware of his hands in the neckline of my t-shirt, stretching it away from my body—
There was a violent renting sound and my t-shirt was suddenly hanging off my arms in two halves, torn clean down the middle. My MMF! of shock was muffled by his kiss. I could feel the oven-hot air wafting over my stomach and the upper slopes of my breasts. For a second, all my insecurities about my body flooded back. Then his hands started to work over me, starting at my shoulders and sliding all the way down my front, following the shape of me. It was as if he was luxuriating in me, worshipping my shape. My brief protest died away and my shyness about my body melted like ice in a furnace.
A hand slid behind me. Some men have trouble getting bra clasps open; Bull was not that sort of man. I felt my bra loosen and then he was pushing it impatiently up and out of the way, both hands capturing my breasts and rolling and squeezing them, thumbs stroking across my nipples.
It hit me, for the first time, that we were doing all this in the middle of a goddamn barn. We hadn’t even shut the door, never mind locked it. And this was the middle of the day—wasn’t Bull meant to be at work?
I broke the kiss for a second. “Won’t someone come looking for you?” I panted.
“Maybe,” he growled. “Why, you want to stop?”
I stared at him for a second and then grabbed his biceps with both hands and pulled him into a kiss.
I moaned as he kissed right the way down to my jeans and then slowly back up in a lazy “S” across my stomach. No man had ever paid that area much attention, but he was almost reverent. Then he reached my left breast and sucked it into his mouth, bathing my nipple with his tongue, and I very nearly exploded right there. I let go of his arms and dug my fingers into the straw behind me, growling into his mouth. He slowed down, teasing me or maybe savoring the feel of me in his mouth. I could feel every slick millimeter as his tongue played back and forth across my breast with agonizing slowness. Every raised dot and tiny crinkle around my nipple became the epicenter of new tremor of pleasure.
His hands were on my jeans, just like last time. Except this time, I didn’t stop him. This time, my own hands were exploring his back, tracing over the hardness of the muscles, sliding down his torso as it narrowed towards his ass. At the same time he popped the button free and pushed my jeans down, I clasped his ass in both hands. God, he was so firm through the denim. All muscle. Power to ram and thrust and pound….
He shoved my jeans down my legs and I helped by kicking until they were a tangle of fabric around my ankles and I could prise my feet free. The feel of loose straw and warm stone under my feet was a shock—it reminded me where we were and how risky this was. It nearly made me stop.
Nearly.
His hand came up between my legs, cupping me through my panties. The heat of his palm surged through the thin fabric, melting any last traces of my resistance, adding to the twisting storm of heat that was building inside me. The one that had started as soon as I’d seen him...or maybe even earlier, maybe since the night before, when I’d lain in bed horny and frustrated.
And then his thumbs were hooking into the edges of my panties and he was tugging them down, kneeling as he did it, escaping my clutching fingers. I gave a low, shuddering moan as the kiss was finally broken, then another as his face drew level with my sex. I could feel his eyes on me, his panting breath sending little currents of air through the soft hair to blaze against my damp flesh. He leaned forward and licked me, just once, and I went crazy, folding at the waist as the pleasure exploded outward from my groin. But he reached up with one hand and pushed me hard against the hay bales, trapping me there. He hooked my panties off one foot, leaving them dangling from the other ankle. Then he was nudging my legs apart—
I hadn’t had much chance to make a noise before, most of my moans and groans swallowed up by his kisses. Now, though, my mouth was free and I couldn’t stop myself crying out, a long, keening sob of pleasure as his tongue speared into me. Jesus! I tried instinctively to shut my legs—the sensations were almost too much. But his hands were on my thighs immediately, his thumbs hooking around the inside of them so that he could haul me open and—
Ah! His lips found my clit, sucking and teasing it, sending the heat inside me spiraling upward. His tongue plunged between my lips again and again, tasting me. My eyes were tight closed, so I had to feel for his head: then I buried my fingers in those soft brown curls. I started to pant, tasting sun-heated air, and the scent of the straw. I cursed and begged, squeezing and rubbing at his head in time with his ministrations. “Ah! Oh God, Jesus Bull please—OH God like that don’t—AH God DON’T STOP—”
My legs couldn’t hold me. My knees bent and only the strength of his arms kept me standing, my back pressed against the hay bales and my thighs in his palms. I was grinding my ass back against the hay, its scratchy touch the perfect antidote to the soft, wet pleasure. But I still wasn’t going to be able to hold back the storm for long. It was rolling towards me, huge and mighty and I was a matchwood house in its path.
Bull suddenly drew his tongue from me and lashed over my clit, at the same time as he plunged two thick fingers deep inside me. I let out a scream of release as the pleasure blasted me apart, shattering me and sending me sailing away in fragments.
I still hadn’t touched down when I heard him get to his feet. There was the distant leather creak of his belt opening and then the jangle as his jeans fell around his ankles. Another rustle of cloth—that’ll be his boxers, I thought vaguely. I was still gasping, rolling my head from side to side against the hay bales, eyes tight closed.
My hands had fallen away from his head as he stood up. Now one of my hands was gripped in his and drawn towards him. I let it happen, still drunk on pleasure.
I only really came awake when I felt my fingers being closed around his cock.
The first sensation was heat—throbbing, almost scalding. Then the size. As my fingers wrapped around it, they stopped far too soon. He couldn’t be that thick—
My eyes flew open and I looked down. He could be that thick. And that...long.
You know why they call me Bull?
It was beautiful and just as big and strong as its owner, hard as rock and with a silky, arrow-shaped head. I felt myself getting wetter, just looking at it. It would fill me...stretch me. Jesus.
I began to stroke it with my hand, showing him how much I wanted him. He gave a low growl, pressing so close to me that his pecs mashed against my breasts. He laid kisses up and down my jaw line as I pumped him, but he only endured it for a handful of seconds before he knocked my hand away and pushed my legs apar
t. I almost slid down towards the floor, but he used his body to pin me firmly against the bales.
I wanted it so much and I was so far gone on pleasure that I almost didn’t realize, at first. Not when the hot length of him slapped against my thigh. Not when that silken head stroked my moist lips. He’d actually started to enter me, splitting me apart with that arrow-shaped head and sliding inside, before I clutched at his forearms. “Wait!” I squeaked. “Condom!”
He licked at my earlobe. “I already told you how I want to fuck you,” he said. “Bareback.”
The word went off like a bomb in my head, scattering all sense. It fell all the way down to my groin and seemed to detonate there a second time, making me twist and buck. That sent the naked tip of him a little further inside and the sensation of it, of bare flesh on flesh, made me heady. “We can’t,” I said.
“The hell we can’t.” He moved his own hips just a fraction, angling into me, and I felt another millimeter of him slide inside. I clutched at him and let out a silent scream of pleasure.
“Do you want it, Lily?” he growled, his breath hot in my ear.
The storm had returned, bearing down on me, ready to lift me and carry me again.
I nodded.
Lily
He planted his hands on the hay bales either side of my head. He started the slow push into me and I gasped as the girth of the head spread me wide, silky-smooth and God so hot, so raw and real inside me. I grabbed for his shoulders, digging my fingers into the muscles there, as I began to stretch—
Ah! He surged into me, my body clamping down around him. My eyes went wide at the sensation of him naked inside me. It was so completely different without a condom. I could feel every hot millimeter of him.
His hands closed on my hips, pinning me to the hay bales, his thumbs stroking at the creases at the tops of my thighs and drawing whirlpools of pleasure from them. And then he began to thrust.
I drew in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut, as I felt the orgasm begin to spiral around me, building speed and pressure. On every stroke, I could feel him deep inside me...and he wasn’t even in me all the way, yet. My ass was tight against the hay, held there as securely as if we were lying down. All I could do was to tilt myself up to meet him and he groaned as I did just that, wantonly offering myself up to him.
He gave a sudden grunt and pressed and ground and I cried out as I felt the hard base of him rock against my pubis, and knew he was in me all the way. God! What are we doing?! I was suddenly aware of the throbbing tip of him, naked and deep inside me. It was wrong and risky and insanely hot, all at the same time. And then the climax was pressing in on me, stealing my breath and my thoughts. Nothing mattered except—
He started to fuck me. Really fuck me. Hands locked tight on my hips, chest rubbing against my breasts. His cock was so hot, so thickly long inside me: solid, heated rock wrapped in satin. I thrashed my head against the hay, mouth open and slack.
But that wasn’t enough for him. He scooped his hands under my hips and lifted me, pulling me away from the wall of hay bales for a second and then slamming me back against it. My feet came off the floor and I lifted them, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders.
I was more open to him like this, and he moved even faster, pounding into me with long, hard strokes that made me heady. His mouth laid a trail of kisses up my neck and along my jaw to my mouth. We kissed, gasping and panting, as he fucked me, both of us now coated in a thin sheen of sweat. “God!” I managed, the first proper word I’d managed in a while.
He sped up even more. Every part of him felt hard, from the press of his pecs against my nipples to the muscles of his ass against my ankles. He was made of rock, and I was softness and warmth around him. “I love fucking you,” he gasped. “Goddamn, Lily, you’re mine.”
The storm finally rose up and overwhelmed me, obliterating me from the inside out. His words echoed in my head and I clung to him with all my strength as the pleasure rocketed through me, making me arch my back and dig my fingers hard into his muscles. I felt myself spasm and clench around him and heard him groan. And then—
He said my name and humped his hips against me one final time, grinding his groin against me—
I felt his cock twitch and—
My eyes opened as awareness hit. I stared up at the barn’s rafters, at the cracks of sunlight streaming into the darkness—
Ah! A sudden, hot jet inside me, thick and heavy and potent. OH JESUS! My orgasm had been winding down, but now it spun back up to full strength. Another jet. Another. Another. I clung to him, rocking and gasping, as he filled me, my eyes wide, all but the most basic thoughts torn away by pleasure.
When he finally went still against me, I just hung there panting. The barn was suddenly very quiet, our breathing the loudest sound in the place. He raised his head from my shoulder and kissed me, but I was too weak and drunk on sensation to do more than open my mouth and let him plunder me.
He carefully turned, his boots scraping on the floor, and walked us over to a stack of bales that was about level with his hips. He set me down on it, lying me down full-length on my back like a slumbering princess.
I didn’t feel like a princess. I was naked, save for the scraps of t-shirt hanging off my shoulders and my pushed-up bra. My hair was festooned with bits of straw. My whole body was shining with sweat and I knew that, all down my back and ass, I had pink imprints from where I’d been pressed hard against the bales. But most of my attention was focused lower down.
I...ached. Not in a painful way but in a been-to-the-gym way. As if I’d been worked hard. I’d just never felt it there, before. I could feel it every time I moved my legs and I could feel something else, too. Deep inside me, hotly thick and sticky—
I put my hand over my groin. “Jesus,” I whispered.
Bull
I hauled up my boxers and jeans and buckled my belt, doing it all by feel because I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. God, she was beautiful. Her near-naked body shone in the shafts of sunlight, her magnificent chest rising and falling as she recovered. She put her hand down between her thighs, feeling what I’d done to her, and that made my cock swell all over again.
Even near-naked and just-fucked, she managed to look classy. She looked like one of those society girls, the kind you see in movies riding around in Mercedes with blacked-out windows, about to inherit the family fortune. But there was something about her looks that was slightly different. Exotic. I hadn’t picked up on it before because her skin was so pale, but was there a trace of Spanish or…
Italian. That was it. Italian. An Italian-American princess.
She’d gone very quiet, so I strolled over there. “You okay?” I asked, unable to keep the dumb grin off of my face.
She lay there for a second, staring up at the ceiling. “What did we just do?” she asked, horrified.
I smirked. “What I do best.”
She sat up, shutting her thighs tightly. “I’m not like that,” she said firmly. She was staring off into the distance, as if she was speaking to herself.
“Hate to break it to you, Lily, but yeah you are. You came in here damn near dripping for it.”
Her head jerked around to glare at me. At the same time, her hand whipped across my cheek. Not a very hard slap—she definitely wasn’t used to doing it. I let it bounce off my cheek and laughed.
“Shit!” she gasped. “Sorry. I just—” Then she frowned. “Stop laughing! It’s not funny!” She ran a hand through her hair. Little bits of straw fell out. “I can’t believe we just did that. Did we really just do that?”
“Oh, for the love of God,” I muttered, and kissed her, which felt damn fine and quieted her down. When I pulled back, her breathing had slowed a little. “Stop thinking like a damn city girl,” I told her sternly.
“I am a city girl.”
“Not anymore.”
She looked down at herself, as if she’d never seen her own body before. Then, for some reason, she touched
that gorgeous, softly-smooth stomach.
I leaned close. “I’d love to fuck you again,” I told her. “Or just lay down in the hay with you and hold you. But sooner or later, someone’s going to come looking for me, and they’re going to see you all laid out there….”
She yelped and tried to pull her t-shirt back together, then realized it was useless. She dived for her jeans and I enjoyed watching that ripe ass wiggle its way into them. Then I threw her my t-shirt. “Here,” I said. “I barely wear it anyway.”
She caught it and stared at me for a moment, as if I’d just given her a Gucci dress. Then fastened up her bra and pulled it on. The t-shirt was ridiculously big on her, but at least she wouldn’t have to suffer the other guys gawping at her.
I walked over to her and took her hands. “Now, I don’t know how you do it in the big city,” I told her, “but out here, this means we gotta get married.”
She looked up at me, eyes huge.
“Joke,” I told her.
Her face relaxed and she sort of shook herself, like, of course it was. But for just an instant there, I’d thought I’d seen a flash of...disappointment? Shit. I’d misjudged her again. She always seemed so distant, pushing me away—I’d just been kidding around, letting her know I wasn’t some hick who’d get all clingy, and it had backfired.
“But you’re not going to do your disappearing act again, are you?” I asked.
She shook her head, but in a very doubtful way.
“Lily,” I grated. “Don’t run out on me again. I got a lasso and I know just how to use it.”
“I have to go,” she muttered, and pulled away.
I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up short, then dragged her across the floor towards me, her sneakers sliding on a bed of hay.
I pulled her into my arms, lifted her up off the floor and kissed her. After a second of resistance, she opened her lips and allowed it, and then I felt her melt. I relaxed. Everything was going to be okay. I hoped.
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