The Cowboy Meets His Match

by Jessica Clare

  But it was hard to slow down and enjoy the sensations when all she wanted was more, more, more. She was hungry for him—no, ravenous. And when his tongue dipped below the waist of her panties, a gasp broke from her. “Oh god, Hank.”

  “Right here.” His breath fanned over her sex. “Not going anywhere. Not anytime soon. I promise.”

  Becca moaned. She wanted him to go down on her, but she also wanted him deep inside, filling up all the spots that were clenching with an empty ache.

  All the sounds she was making just seemed to slow him down, though. He took his sweet time toying with the waistband of her lacy panties, pressing hot kisses along her skin just above the band and then nipping at her through the fabric. His mouth went to one hip and then he slowly kissed his way back over to the other hip again, all while she undulated and rocked and whimpered as if she were dying.

  Just when she was about to go mad, his rough fingers went to her waistband and he began to slowly tug it down.

  “Fuck, baby, these panties are soaked. Look at how wet you are. How ready. You’re making my mouth water.” His beard brushed over her thighs a second before the fabric of her panties did. “Kinda makes me want to pull them back up and just tongue you through the fabric for a while—”

  “No!” she cried out, and tried to pull them from his grip.

  He chuckled, all slow and in control, just as he always was. “So hungry for my mouth.”

  He had no idea. Becca bit down on her lip as he slowly, exquisitely dragged her panties down the lengths of her thighs and then her calves. She wanted to fling her legs wide open in invitation as he settled his big shoulders between her legs. He ran his fingers along the insides of her thighs, sliding from knee to apex, and by the time he got to her mound, she was breathless once more. She loved the feel of his big hand as he gently pushed her thighs apart—she’d been waiting for that. Waiting for that small touch that told her that he was in control. That this was all handled . . . and that it was his idea. Maybe she was still shy when it came to oral and didn’t want to be a bother, and that was why she waited for him to open her up like a flower.

  “Gonna taste you now, baby,” Hank told her, his beard tickling against her thighs and making her squirm. “Been waiting for this all day long.”

  Oh damn, so had she. Becca closed her eyes and curled her fingers in his thick hair, waiting, her body utterly primed, for his mouth to descend.

  When it finally did, she practically came right there.

  And then his mouth was on her, and it was so good. It always shocked her just how good his mouth felt on her sex. Like he’d been taking classes or something. Because the way he touched her? The way he knew instinctively how to drive her crazy with lips and tongue? It was far too good. He was perfectly aligned with what her body needed—more than that, he listened to her subtle signals and cared about making her come and come hard. That was the best thing about being in bed with Hank: he paid attention. It wasn’t good for him unless it was good for her, and he was patient enough to wait until she got there, too. They’d fooled around constantly for the last week, and while it was getting easier for her to let go and lose control with him, it still wasn’t fast or easy. Her mind started to work, her brain piling up with worries, and then the orgasm would slip a bit further away. It was just how she was. But Hank was patient and unwavering, and he loved to touch her and taste her, and he always, always made sure she came hard before he got his own. Sometimes she’d stroke his cock for him while they kissed until he came on her hands. Sometimes he’d do it to himself while he had his mouth buried between her thighs.

  Today, though, he was going to come inside her, and that was the most exciting thing of all.

  Becca shivered when his lips played across her sensitive flesh. She was already hot and slick, ready for him, and he made a small sound of appreciation as he tasted her. He brushed gentle kisses over her folds, then began to lick and nibble and tease, knowing that it’d make her squirm. When she murmured a protest, his big hand went to the inside of her thigh and held her down as he used his other to pull her folds apart so he could suck on her clit. It sent electrical currents all through her, and for a moment, Becca thought she was going to come right away. Her hips arched, but the orgasm fled the moment she thought about it—like it always did—and so she squirmed and panted and moved restlessly against his mouth until it started to rise again. This time, he kept up his steady chain of touches, the flick of his tongue against the underside of her clit constant and speeding up until a low scream burst from her—and her release rocked through her body.

  Hank made a pleased sound in his throat, licking her sensitive flesh until she began to twitch with every stroke of his tongue. He pressed a few more kisses to the insides of her thighs and her mound, and then lifted his head to gaze up at her. “I could stay here all night, you know.”

  Oh, she knew he could.

  Becca stroked her fingers through his hair. “I want you on me, Hank. I want you in me. Please.”

  He growled low, pressed another hard kiss to the inside of her thigh, and then surged up. He moved over her, his big hips settling between her spread thighs, and she eagerly lifted her legs to encircle him.

  Hank kissed her, his mouth tender despite the urgency of his kisses. He tasted like her body, and it added an erotic, sultry edge to their caresses, and it didn’t take long before Becca was moaning against his mouth. She arched against him suggestively, waiting for him to move, to claim her. Instead, all he did was kiss her. “Hank, please.”

  “Could kiss you forever,” he told her, and gazed down at her so seriously and for so long that she blushed. He made it seem like every moment with her was a gift . . . was it any surprise that she was falling for the man?

  The moment the thought occurred to her, it filled her with panic.

  Falling. For Hank. Of course she was. She was someone who fell into love quickly. She knew that. And how could she not fall for Hank? He was nothing that she’d thought she’d ever wanted but had ended up being everything she’d dreamed of. He was gentle despite his hulking size. Considerate. Thoughtful. A good father. An amazing lover. And he made her feel so . . . special.

  The “I love you” hovered on her lips, but she pushed it back, settling for something far more carnal. “Take me, Hank.”

  He gave her another slow, thorough kiss, nipping at her lower lip. His hand slid down to her thigh and he adjusted it against his hip, shifting his weight. She felt the head of his cock press against her core, where she was slippery and hot and aching and hollow.

  “Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he whispered between kisses. “Or if it’s too much.”

  “It won’t be,” she promised him. She wasn’t a virgin. It’d be fine.

  Even so, when he pushed forward, Becca was a little surprised at how . . . big he felt. Of course he was big. Hank was a huge guy, all over. She’d known from handling his cock in the last few days during their make-out sessions that he was thick, but as he slowly pushed into her, she couldn’t decide if it felt like too much . . . or if it was amazing. A little gasp escaped her and he froze over her, worried.

  “Keep going,” she encouraged, raising her hips in suggestion. “Don’t stop.”

  “Becca—”

  She kissed him fiercely, this time being the aggressor, and he let out a ragged groan even as he surged deep into her. She clung to him as he settled his weight atop her, working ever so slightly deeper with little movements of his hips. It felt as if he was touching her womb, he was so deep inside her, and maybe it had been a long time since she’d had sex, but she’d never felt so . . . full.

  “You okay?” he asked between nips on her mouth. It was like he couldn’t stop touching her, stop kissing her.

  Becca could feel the tension in his big body. He practically vibrated over her, tense as a bowstring.

  He didn’t move, though
, just remained frozen atop her, and so she stroked her hands up and down his sides, caressing him. She reminded herself that his memories of sex were probably not the greatest—the release had probably been good but everything after that had been tainted, so she didn’t care if she came again or not, because she just wanted it to be good for him. “You feel amazing,” she told him softly. “You’re so big inside me it feels as if you’re hitting all the spots that have ached for so long.”

  Hank groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. She could feel his big body shudder.

  “You can’t hurt me,” she promised. “You feel good. You feel so good. Move as much as you want, as hard as you want.” She touched his face gently and then moved her hand down to his hip, then to his ass, and caressed the hard muscle there. “I want all of it.”

  “Might not . . . last long,” he gritted out. “You feel so fucking good.”

  “Then that just gives us more time to do this again,” Becca promised him. “Just do what feels good, what feels right.”

  He sucked in a deep breath between gritted teeth, and then his hips jerked. It was a short, hard thrust, and the sensation sent pleasure skittering all through her. He was so big she seemed to feel it everywhere, and he seemed to touch parts of her that had never been hit before. Her hands tightened on him.

  “Can you do that again?” she whispered, her body clenching. “That felt really, really good.”

  He claimed her mouth in a rough kiss, and pumped into her again, his body fierce. She moaned into his mouth and then he was on her like a wild animal, thrusting deep and hard over and over again, as if unable to stop himself. As if his body had lost all control and he just had to release.

  It felt amazing. Becca dug her nails into his shoulders and moaned, arching up against him to meet each thrust with her body. The elusive orgasm was beginning to spiral through her belly again, encouraged by something deep inside her that Hank’s cock rubbed against with every stroke, and she started to whimper with his movements. “Keep going,” she managed. “Oh god, that feels so good. Oh, Hank—”

  He growled again, leaning in and biting her neck and then sucking on the skin hard as he jackhammered into her.

  She came again, much to her surprise—no, she exploded. Everything was suddenly pleasure and release and a little scream escaped her as her entire body clenched up in the wake of yet another release. That was all it took for Hank to come, too, and his teeth dug into her shoulder as his release shuddered out of him, their bodies quaking at nearly the same time. He continued to move erratically over her, as if unable to stop, and then slowly exhaled deep, clutching her against him. He didn’t collapse on top of her—much to her disappointment—but immediately pulled away and flipped onto his back, panting.

  Becca was a cuddler, though. She followed him over and pillowed her head on his shoulder. “Should I leave you alone? Do you need a moment?”

  He snorted and tugged her against him. “No. You stay right here.”

  She closed her eyes, pleased. She’d clean up in a minute—as he no doubt would, too—but for now she just enjoyed the blissful pleasure of curling up against her lover.

  Her lover.

  The man she loved.

  She’d stress about that later. For now, she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent and thought the world was pretty perfect.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was still dark outside when Hank woke up. Becca, not surprisingly, was still asleep. He was used to the early mornings and instantly getting up and starting the day, but he lay in bed and watched the woman at his side—his woman—sleep. She was a messy sleeper, he decided, kind of like his daughter. She sprawled in the bed, her long hair everywhere, and her hands were on his side, her leg tossed over his. It was like she had to touch him even as she slept. Not that he minded—he liked that, just like he liked that she slept with her mouth slightly parted and every so often mumbled in her sleep. It was cute.

  It was a shame he’d have to wake her up.

  He let Becca sleep for a moment longer, eyeing her naked body and waiting for his morning wood to subside. He could wake her up and roll her over, push between her thighs and claim her like he had many times last night . . . but then he’d never leave her bed. Already he felt addicted. So he reached over and caressed her bare backside, and then rubbed it until she awoke and squinted at him in confusion.

  “What is it?” she mumbled, scrubbing a hand across her eyes like his daughter did. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s time to get up.”

  She peered at him through the curtain of her thick hair. “What?”

  “Time to get up. We’re going fishing.” He gave her bouncy ass a light smack, and the way it jiggled just made his dick get all hard again. Hell, he needed to stop touching her before he got completely distracted. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away. “I told Libby we’d go fishing with her today.”

  “Oh.” She yawned and sat up. “Well, okay. If she’s waiting for us . . .”

  “She is,” he lied. Libby probably wasn’t up yet, but he knew the best time to go fishing was bright and early. They could nap later, anyhow.

  A short time later, they’d both showered and she’d taken Alaska out for her first walk of the day and fed her. They drove out to the ranch, and the moment his truck pulled up, his little daughter was on the porch, wearing her favorite overalls.

  “Daddy!” she cried, holding her fishing rod. “Come on!”

  He laughed, his heart aching with joy at the sight of her. God, he loved that little girl more than life itself. He got Becca’s door for her, and while she retrieved the puppy, he went to his daughter and swung her into his arms, planting a kiss on her head. “Were you good while I was gone?”

  “Yes, but next time you have a sleepover with Miss Becca, I want to go, too.” She scowled at him.

  He grinned. “We’ll see.”

  Hank checked in with his brothers while Becca chatted with Doc about the puppy and he gave her a bag of puppy food. Then they packed their fishing gear into the car. Becca pulled together a quick picnic lunch and grabbed a blanket while they retrieved the worms Libby had hunted up the night before with her uncles, and then they were off.

  It wasn’t a far drive to one of the nearby lakes, and when they pulled up, the scenery was breathtaking. Kinda reminded him of home, he decided, with the mountains and trees and the wildflowers blooming amid the grasses. The lake wasn’t very big, a small, weathered dock on the far side that made Hank’s parental instincts flare in alarm. They’d be standing on the shore to fish, he decided, and while he readied the poles, Becca laid out the blanket and Libby chased the puppy. Then the fishing rods were ready, and Libby put a worm on her own hook, much to Becca’s surprise. Hank was proud, though. His little girl was capable and smart, and not easily grossed out. She was a wilderness kid and she knew how to handle herself.

  She was also a noisy kid, keeping up a constant stream of conversation as she watched her bobber in the water. She told Becca all about hunting for worms the night before, and how she’d helped Hank pick out Alaska, and which puppy was her favorite and why. She talked about other times they’d gone fishing and she asked again and again about the sleepover. All the talking was probably scaring away the fish, but Hank couldn’t find it in him to mind. Libby was having a great time, and Becca was, too. She curled up on her side on the blanket, watching them both and petting the sleeping puppy curled up against her. There was a look of such contentment on her face that it filled his heart with longing.

  This was how it should be, he realized. His woman at his side. His daughter, too. Everyone happy and enjoying the day in the great outdoors. This was his family.

  This was everything he’d ever wanted . . . and he couldn’t picture anyone else he’d rather share it with.

  “Daddy!” Libby shrieked, shaking him out of his reverie. “I have a
bite!”

  Sure enough, the bobber went under and jerked again, nearly hauling his little girl into the water. He reached over and put his hand on the rod and helped her steady it, ensuring that it wouldn’t pull her in. “Remember what I showed you on how to bring it in?”

  He was the proudest papa alive when minutes later, she brought in a fish the size of his hand, and Libby danced with joy. Becca took pictures with her cell phone and then Libby showed the fish to the puppy before she decided the fish needed to go back into the water. He had a daddy fish, she decided, like in Finding Nemo, and his family would be looking for him.

  “Something tells me dinner isn’t going to be fish,” Becca murmured as Libby sent the fish back into the lake and waved goodbye to it.

  “Something tells me I should make her watch Frozen more often than Nemo,” he grumbled. “That was perfectly good eating.”

  Becca just chuckled and reached over to squeeze his knee. He put his hand over hers and rubbed her soft skin, and the world felt . . . right. He glanced down at Becca, feeling utterly content. “Hope you don’t mind if this is how we spend the morning.”

  She smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind at all. My first appointment isn’t until one.” She turned to watch Libby playing at the edge of the shore and then gave him a thoughtful look. “Hank . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “You said you wanted to do a big gesture for me, right?” She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “What if you enrolled Libby in pre-K? Just for the summer? It’d give her a chance to be with other kids her age, learn what school is like . . . I think she’d really enjoy it.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that school wasn’t necessary. That he was gonna be taking his daughter back to Alaska soon enough, which meant he’d be homeschooling her and teaching her things that were useful in the wild, like how to sharpen a knife when out in the wild or how to check over your snowmobile to ensure it wouldn’t break down on you out in the field. But Becca looked up at him with such earnest eyes that he didn’t have the heart to tell her no. It meant so much to her.