by Jaye Diamond
“Darlin’,” I breathe when our lips part. “We have to stop.”
“I thought you wouldn’t be able to stop?” she pouts.
I brush a thumb over her swollen lips, and keeping myself from capturing them again is pure torture. “I want to take you somewhere more private.” Then I want to take your cherry. “Would that be okay?”
Caroline nods, running her fingers through my hair. “Take me wherever you want.”
CHAPTER FOUR
CAROLINE
Dirt flies everywhere as we race down an unpaved road to Mason’s house.
“Do you really have a house out here, or are you going to try to have your way with me in a field?” I tease, because it feels like this drive is taking forever.
“We’re almost there,” Mason assures me.
It’s not long before I finally see something in the distance: a two-story red house, with a white porch, in the middle of open land.
“You live there all by yourself? It looks big enough for four, at least.”
“It was built for workers who lived on the ranch, back in the day. My parents said they’d sign this part of the land over to me if I wanted to fix it up. I thought it would be a fun project.”
We park in a gravel lot beside the house, and Mason takes my hand before he leads me inside. There’s a lot of plaid, and wood. All the tables and chairs and other furniture doesn’t look mass produced, like the furniture in my father’s very modern townhouse. This furniture looks like it was made with hands.
“I like this place. It’s ni—” I break off as Mason abruptly lifts me in his arms, with zero effort, as if I’m as weightless as air.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, carrying me up creaky steps to the second floor. “Let’s see what you think of the bedroom.”
I want to joke about him not even bothering with southern hospitality, since he didn’t even let me finish my sentence, and hasn’t offered me anything to drink. My mouth isn’t working properly though. Butterflies that appeared in my stomach, in the alley, have returned, making me tongue-tied.
“Don’t be nervous,” Mason says softly, sensing my anxiety. “I’m going to take good care of you.”
I barely take in his room as he sits on the edge of his bed, which puts me in his lap. I don’t know why I can’t relax—I feel so safe with Mason—but I guess what Dick and Gary told me in the bar still has me a little rattled. For less than a minute, I believed Mason thought I was only good for one thing, but that was the most painful minute I had experienced in my life. It was soul-crushing, and the possibility of ever experiencing that again terrifies me. We want to be together, but what will happen when my father inevitably tries to come between us? How will Mason react? Will he decide I’m too much drama and decide I am like all the other city girls?
“I know you will,” I say softly. “You’ll take care of me in your bed, but what about after?”
“Did I not make myself clear in the alley?” Mason asks, grabbing my chin. He tilts it up toward his face, forcing me to look at him. He’s wearing the expression of a man who is dead serious. “I’m going to make you mine—and once you’re mine nothing will ever change that. Your days of being daddy’s little girl are over. I’m going to breed you. Do you know what that means?”
“Is that a, uh, ranch term?” I ask, my cheeks heating from embarrassment—because I’m pretty sure it means he wants to cum inside me—but there’s no way I can say that out loud.
Mason lets out a soft chuckle. “It means I’m not pulling out or putting on a condom. I want you to take my cock and my cum, then carry my baby.” He puts a hand on my stomach, splaying his large fingers. “I won’t accept anything less.”
God, this man is so sexy, so loving, and he really is all mine.
“Where have you been all my life?” I joke.
“Waiting for you to be legal,” he says darkly, then his hand moves lower to cup my pussy through my pants.
I moan as a hint of pleasure pulses between my legs, a tease of something that could be so intense and so good.
“I like it when you touch me there,” I breathe.
“Yeah?” Mason says, rubbing my pussy with rough, determined movements. “Are you wet for me already, darlin’?”
“I’ve been wet for you since the alley,” I say, moving my hips to increase the wonderful friction—which causes my ass to rub against the stiff cock I can feel through Mason’s jeans.
I hear a rumble in his chest as he growls like he did when he pushed me against a wall. He whips off his shirt, exposing the defined muscles his upper body earned through years of work on the ranch.
“Stand up,” he orders.
I let out a pout of protest, because I don’t want his hand to stop playing rough with my pussy, but I can’t say no to a man with such a hot, commanding voice. I climb off Mason’s lap and stand before him, with my heart hammering in my chest. He leans back onto his forearms and drags his eyes up and down my body. He takes in every thick inch of me like it turns him on so much, even though I’m not even naked.
“Show me,” Mason says, “what belongs to me now.”
I shiver at his words as they make my panties soaking wet. I’ve never undressed so quickly, or with shaky fingers. I can feel the innocent girl who I once was, who barely spoke to boys, fading away as I stand naked before a gruff and handsome, much older man. My mind attempts to contemplate what Dad would think if he saw me now, with this cowboy—but I quickly shut those thoughts out, and walk toward the new man who will look after and protect me.
“Like what you see?” I ask shyly.
Mason licks his lips as his gaze fixes on the lower half of my body. “How could I not? What I see is perfect, and I want it on my face.” He lays flat on his back and holds his hands out to me. “Come sit on it.”
MASON
Caroline takes my hands and I pull her onto the bed. Her beautiful large breasts bounce and my hands itch with the need to caress them. There will be plenty of time for that later though. I’m going to suck on them until she’s close to orgasm just from that merciless attention. I’m going to run my tongue along the lines left in her flawless skin by her bra and panties while she squirms beneath me. I’m going to slide my thumb in her mouth and let her practice on it before she gets a mouthful of my straining hard-on.
But first, I’m going to eat her virgin cunt.
She positions herself right where I want her, and I lift my head, putting my face in the brown curls that cover her pussy mound. They’re so soft and beautiful, like all of her. And she’s all mine. I moan at that thought as I free my cock from my pants and stroke it. Breathing hard, her sweet scent fills my nostrils, and she smells like everything I’ve ever wanted.
I kiss her curls and sticky thighs before I slide my tongue back and forth, over her hairless pussy lips, slowly working my way to her slippery folds. Caroline moans and whimpers above me as I lick them clean. The taste of her is more intoxicating than my father’s famous moonshine. One drop could make me drunk with lust.
“Mason, I feel like I’m gonna explode,” Caroline says, gripping my hair.
And I haven’t even played with her clit yet. Fuck, her pussy is so sensitive, and my mouth is having so much fun introducing it to the dirty pleasures I want to make her feel every day, for the rest of our lives. I run my hands up her body and grab her tits as I press my tongue inside an opening that is so tight it pulls me right in.
Caroline rocks her hips, thighs quivering as I tongue-fuck an orgasm out of her. She gasps my name, hot cream trickling down my chin as I feel my own orgasm building in my fist. I pump fast as I swirl my tongue against her folds and suck on her swollen clit. Her first orgasm spills into another as cum shoots out of my throbbing cock, coating my tense abs and chest.
Caroline rolls her pussy off my face and collapses beside me on the bed. This gives me the perfect opportunity to kiss the last of her aftershocks that show themselves in her trembling tummy, while I catch my breath.
I sit up and she looks pointedly at the sticky cum that’s all over me as I wipe her cum off my chin.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
Her eyes go straight to the source of my mess, still veiny, flushed, and hard as steel. “You can go again, that quick?”
I pull her into my arms, getting my strong scent all over the both of us. I’m oddly pleased to mark her with it, as if it might keep other men away. “With you, darlin’, I could go all night.”
We’re two seconds into a deepening kiss when someone bangs their fist on my front door.
“Mason! Mason, come quick!"
I already have—quicker than I did during nervous fumbling in high school, I think, as I realize the voice of the rude interruption belongs to my brother.
“Mason!” Mack shouts louder, making sure his voice is carried high through my walls. “It’s Sage!”
Damn it all to hell. My horse needing me is the only thing that could tear me away from Caroline right now.
I try to apologize but she puts a finger against my lips and shushes me.
“It’s okay, Mason. Let’s get dressed.”
CHAPTER FIVE
CAROLINE
Mack explains what happened while the three of us race across open land in Mason’s truck.
Sage slipped in mud Mack would have avoided if he expected wet ground, but he took Sage out for a ride on a path that would have been dry—if not for a pipe that had burst earlier that day. The horse went down hard, wouldn’t get up, and probably had a sprained ankle.
Mack told the story with tears in his eyes that make me want to comfort him, but Mason looks like he’s about to go off on his brother. His eyes are narrowed, his mouth is a tight line, and his hands shake with anger as he grips the steering wheel.
“Why the fuck did you take him out of the stables?” he asks his brother, with ice in his voice.
Mack sighs and hangs his head. “There were these girls . . . I wanted to show them the trick you had Sage do for Caroline. I just . . . wanted to impress them, like how you impressed her.”
Mason’s face instantly softens. “Alright. What’s done is done. Let’s focus on helping Sage now.”
That goal is clearly already taking up all of Mack’s attention. Mack barely reacted when I stepped out of Mason’s house with him, all flushed and smelling like sex. I don’t know much about horses, but I know enough to understand why he and his brother are so shaken up. I’ve heard horses with serious injuries usually have to be put down. I hope a sprained ankle is the worst injury Sage has.
When we reach the path where Mack left the horse, I feel tears prick my eyes, and my throat feels tight. Sage is drenched in sweat, his eyes are glassy, and his side rises and falls fast as he neighs helplessly, like he’s trying to breathe through pain. It’s horrible to see such a beautiful animal in such a rough state. Mason doesn’t even turn the truck off. He puts it in park and jumps out, running over and kneeling down beside his horse.
“It’s this one,” he says, after feeling each of Sage’s legs. “His left, rear ankle is swelling up.
“We have to get him back to his stall,” Mack says, getting out of the truck.
I follow him, but I hang back a little, unsure if Sage is completely safe—even like this. Especially like this. I imagine a large, injured animal could be more dangerous than an uninjured one. Pain and distress could make them forget their training, and lash out.
“Caroline,” Mason says, his tone all business. “There’s a tarp in the back of my truck. Grab it and bring it here!”
“We’re gonna take him back in this?” I ask in disbelief, as I open the back of the truck and grab the black tarp, dragging it through the mud. “How are we going to lift him?”
“I’ll manage,” Mason says with total confidence.
“He’s done it before,” Mack tells me, as he takes the tarp and lays it out beside Sage. “He can do it with our help.”
“Shouldn’t we give the horse a sedative or something first?” I ask. “So, it won’t feel any pain?” And won’t kick me in the face.
Mason shakes his head. “The pain is good for Sage. It helps him realize he can’t move too much, so he’ll rest until he’s feeling better. All he needs now is for us to move him to a confined space.” Mason looks up at me and reads my apprehensive expression. “Please, darlin’. I promise you won’t get hurt.”
I can’t say no to the pleading expression in his dreamy blue eyes. “Okay, Mason. I’ll do it, for you.”
Somehow—with Mason and Mack bearing the brunt of the physical exertion—I muster the strength to get Sage on the tarp, and my muscles are already aching.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say, gasping for air. “He’s too heavy.”
“I’m not asking you to hurt yourself. I would never allow that,” Mason says firmly. “But please try.”
Do it for him, this man who’s been so good to you, I remind myself, grabbing the edge of the tarp, near Sage’s feet.
Mack joins me, and from the other end, Mason pulls the horse’s upper body up all by himself, hauling it toward the back of the truck.
I watch breathless, my heart in my throat, as he wraps his arms around the horse and climbs into the truck bed, pulling Sage along with him. A normal sized man (with no experience with heavy lifting) might have broken his back, but Mason is a strapping cowboy who knows what he’s doing. He sets most of Sage down and we help him gently slide the horse in the rest of the way.
“Fuck me. It’s been ages since I lifted a horse.” Mason falls back on his ass and rests the back of his head against the rear window of the truck. He has broken into a sweat and is breathing as hard as Sage. “I may be too old for my darlin’, but at least I’m not a frail old man yet.”
MASON
Caroline makes a face like I said something foolish.
“Too old? You’re not too anything for me,” she argues, like she can’t accept me slandering myself. “You’re perfect.”
“Tell that to your daddy,” I tease, as I slide out of the bed of the truck.
I tower over her once I’m on my feet.
“Oh,” Caroline says, feeling her pockets, “where’s my phone?”
“In my back pocket,” I remind her, without returning it. I haven’t felt inclined to ever since I took it from her in the alley. I’ve liked having her out here with me, with no way of contacting anyone if she tried to run off. Then I could catch her and talk sweet to her as I did the sweetest, dirtiest things with her young, curvy body. Things that would convince her to stay here forever. “Why?”
“I should get back to Dad. I have to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.”
“Will you tell him about us when you see him?” I ask, glowering at the thought of even her father putting his hands on her—without knowing who she belongs to now.
“We’ll tell him together, at the dinner,” Caroline says, as I catch a mischievous glint in her eye. “You can be my date.”
“You’re sure that’s a good idea?” I ask.
I don’t want Caroline’s father to act like an asshole to her in a room full of people. That would mean there will be plenty of witnesses watching me knock his teeth out. I’m pretty sure the sheriff would take my side, but you never know—not when rich city folk are involved.
“Dad will have to remain calm in front of his well-mannered family,” Caroline explains. “Appearances are everything to them.”
“Damn,” I say, taking her small hand in mine, “it feels good to be the future husband of the cleverest girl in town.”
Caroline beams like I’m a teacher who just gave her a gold star. Thank God I’m not her teacher. I wouldn’t be able to resist fucking her on my desk until it was slick with he
r juices.
“So, this is the real deal? You and a city girl?” Mack asks, and both our heads snap in his direction.
We were so wrapped up in each other, we forgot he was there.
“Me and a city girl,” I confirm gruffly, and that’s all I say.
A man who knows what he wants doesn’t need to explain himself, and I told Mack earlier that Caroline is different than the girls I’ve trash talked in the past.
“Well then,” Mack says, grinning, “welcome to the family, City Girl.”
CHAPTER SIX
CAROLINE
I have to change my panties repeatedly, until I’m down to my last clean pair by the time my makeup is done and I’m ready to return to the Wyatts’ land.
It’s all Mason’s fault! He thanked me for helping him with Sage, then gave me a hard kiss before I left, leaving my lips bruised and my pussy throbbing. And now I can’t stop thinking about what will happen when he gets me alone in his bed again. For some reason, I keep picturing him naked, save for his boots and hat.
I haven’t seen all of him yet, but seeing his flushed cock was one of the most thrilling experiences of my life. I pushed it to the back of my mind when we rushed to help Sage, but now the memory is burning hot inside me. I hope telling my father about us, at the rehearsal dinner, won’t completely kill the arousal-fueled mood that has been going strong since Mason and I met.
The dinner is being held in a barn that was converted into a banquet hall. A perfect spot for the rehearsal for a western wedding. Exposed wood, white candles, denim dresses, and cowboy boots are everywhere. I wear my hair in a looser braid than the style I wore earlier, and enter the barn in a flowy red dress, with a brown leather belt wrapped around the slimmest part of my torso. Dad, in a dark blazer, is at my side. He insisted on us walking in with me on his arm. Mason isn’t going to be happy about that.