11. Emery

11

EMERY

Woody had not one clue what he’d unleashed with those words. I pushed him backward as I kissed him, forcing him up, up, up the stairs, unable to pull my body from his. The way we came together was energy in its purest form, and I devoured his moans with every touch and whisper and kiss.

“If the supplies weren’t up in my bedroom, I’d fuck you on this staircase,” I gritted out as I moved to bite at his jaw and ear.

His eyes narrowed, and he reached between us to palm my trapped erection.

“If the supplies weren’t in your bedroom, I’d let you.”

Fuck.

I grabbed him around the waist and lifted him over my shoulder, making it up the remaining stairs in record time, ignoring his shout of protest. Barreling through the door of my bedroom, I practically launched him onto the high mattress.

“Get naked.”

“You aren’t gonna ask me what I like in bed?” he asked as he yanked off his boots, then undid his belt buckle, button, and zipper in a move so practiced I couldn’t wait to get inside him.

“You’ve been giving me nothing but shit for weeks,” I said, undressing methodically, but with haste. “So now you’re going to be a good boy and take what I give you.”

“Fuck you,” he said, snarling as he started pushing his jeans and underwear down to his ankles, kicking them off. He struggled to pull his T-shirt overhead so, with my heavy cock swinging free, I leaned over and ripped the shirt off his body, positioning him at the edge of the mattress. Pulling out the drawer, I grabbed the supplies and set the lube on the bedside table.

“Hands and knees,” I ordered as I ripped a condom from the strip.

“Not that I mind a little pain with my pleasure, but you gonna prep me before you fuck me with that thing?”

I paused, the condom wrapper between my teeth. “I’m not gonna hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He nodded, then flipped over, presenting himself to me with his feet hanging off the mattress. This was a familiar position, but Woody was no temptress twink shaking his ass at me. He wasn’t submitting in any sense of the word. The glower on his face as he stared at me over his shoulder told me that this was going to be more of a battle than a conquest.

And a show of trust, weirdly enough.

He wasn’t the type to trust easily, and I kept that in mind as I rolled the condom down my thick length and smoothed the lube on after it. Closing in on him, I loved how he smelled like homemade soap and the outdoors. Blanketing him with my body, I ran my slicked cock between his cheeks, kissing his neck and shoulders, rubbing my hand up and down his wiry body, stopping to pinch and pull at his nipples.

Gripping the back of his neck, I pushed the side of his face into the mattress as I kissed my way down his spine. When I reach the top of his crack, I shifted, taking his narrow hips into my tight grasp, using my thumbs to massage his ass cheeks. I buried my nose into the cleft of his ass and inhaled his musky scent.

“Mm. Somebody just showered.”

“Stop teasing,” he demanded. “Fucking eat me out.”

Ignoring his request, I pulled his rigid cock between his thighs, lapping at it, sucking on his balls, his taint, nipping at the shelf of his spare, perfect ass.

“Emery,” he whined, pushing back against me.

Only when he was desperate enough to beg did I give in, running the flat of my tongue against his tightly bunched hole. He grunted, shifting forward, then back again. I went after him, aggressive, unrelenting, pushing my tongue inside him the second his muscles let me. He cursed into the mattress, ripping the fitted sheet from its corners. I stayed there, tonguing him until he was soaking wet. Fumbling for the lube, I slicked two fingers, biting his ass as I pressed them inside.

He lunged forward, but I didn’t let him get away. Grabbing his shoulder, I pressed farther inside until he was hunching back against my fingers. I added a third finger, loving the sound of his curses as they hit my ear, even as he pushed back against me for more.

“Stop finger painting back there,” he bit out. “Fuck me.”

Needing no further invitation, I stood, withdrawing my fingers so fast he winced. Adding a bit more lube, I stroked myself a few times, taking a second to admire the way his hole had softened and opened for me. I knocked his thighs wide, spreading his cheeks before pressing the head of my cock against him, praying I wouldn’t be some two-pump chump. After a steadying breath, I drove in all the way with one smooth, brutal stroke.

“Fucking hell,” he gritted out, before pushing back against me with more curses.

Grabbing his scrawny shoulders, I powered my hips forward, taking what I could from his wiry body.

He cursed under his breath, and I leaned forward, nipping at his ear, asking, “What was that again? Need me to slow it down for you?”

He turned, glaring at me from the corners of his eyes. “Fuck you.”

I thrust my hips forward, deeply satisfied with the way his jaw dropped open. “No, Woody. Fuck you .”

And I did, hard and fast, railing him to within an inch of his life. I could’ve kept going until I came, then jacked him off and that’ve been the end of it. But that wasn’t how I wanted things to go. As much as I wanted to let loose, I wanted to take my time turning him inside out.

When his cries pitched up, I pulled away and pushed him on his back, loving the enraged flash of silver blue, once again grateful his look couldn’t eviscerate me the way I’m sure he wanted it to.

I slid him back, advancing on him as he retreated to the head of the bed. Before he could open his sharp mouth, I went after his nipples again, pinching until he arched up against me, sucking as he tried to hump my belly, my hip, anything he could reach. God, I loved him desperate like this.

And each time he worked himself up, I shifted my hips, or pulled away, not giving him everything, not yet. He cursed and spit like an angry cat, then got real quiet when I wrapped my hand around his narrow neck. This was not breath play, and I was not constricting his airway, at all. He was simply pinned to the bed, completely under my control.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” I asked, reveling in the way his snarling expression shifted, his face going slack with desire, his eyes rolling off to the side. He answered by putting his hand over mine, keeping it in place as he widened his legs.

With my free hand, I grabbed my cock, stroking it over the condom, then staring into his eyes as I punched forward into his tight, gripping heat once more. He tried to neutralize his face, to act like it didn’t affect him, but he quickly lost the battle as I scooped my hips, letting him have everything.

I peeled his hand off of mine and pressed it palm down on his trim stomach, intensifying my thrusts as I did. “Can you feel that, sweetheart? My cock pushing up through your body like I own it?”

His shuddering, needy whine spurred on my rut, and I felt like a mindless beast with him under me. As I went harder, he softened to a puddle, desperately open and begging. I shifted my hand from his neck, letting my thumb drift along his sharp jaw as I pulled him toward me for a kiss. He returned it, hungry, so close.

“Beautiful,” I murmured.

His eyes went hazy and his mouth opened in silent bliss, his body grasping me tightly seconds before his cock jerked, cum spilling between us as he let out a strangled sound.

“Good boy,” I hissed, breathless from our exertions. I pressed another kiss into him as I let the pleasure have its way with me, thrusting into him so hard that my headboard banged against the wall. The orgasm hit like a freight train and I growled as I came, wishing I could watch my cum drip out of him.

Even after spilling everything I had, my hips kept going, as if they had a mind of their own. I thrust until my erection was reduced to a semi, then remained buried inside him, sucking on his neck until I slipped from his willing, perfect body.

Grabbing a handful of tissues from the bedside table, I supported myself and mopped up the pool of cum on his belly. He seemed a wild thing below me, bombed out on sex hormones while looking at the door, like he was ready to take flight. I briefly wondered if he hated how much he’d let me see.

I grabbed a few more tissues and wiped myself down, then discarded them with the condom, never not aware of his eyes on me. I was currently a little more fit than usual, what with all the work on the property. His eyes seemed to track the new definition on my chest and arms, along with the stubborn bit of pudge at my belly.

When those sharp, assessing eyes reached mine, he looked away. As if to gather himself, he shook his head, then sat up and pivoted so that his lean, muscled legs draped over the edge of the tall bed, his toes grazing the floor. Tossing the tissues in the trash, I clucked my tongue.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Mr. Poet,” I said, pushing him back into bed.

“I need to?—”

“No, you don’t,” I said, noting how easily he gave into my manhandling, how weak his protest when I dragged him under the covers with me.

I kissed the muttered curses right out of his mouth, leaving him to quietly moan as he clung to me. He palmed my pec, thumbing my nipple and I let my hand drift to his pert butt, giving it a careful squeeze as I held him close, kissing him gently—so fucking gently—till his eyes glazed over. I then pressed my lips to his forehead, and we fell together into a deep, deep sleep.

I was annoyed but not surprised to wake up alone. Despite the unexpected sweetness of our final kisses, I had a feeling Woody wouldn’t stick around.

There’s no cause to be mad at a guy for doing the thing he was always gonna do, Em.

That didn’t stop the agitation from prickling my insides as I got up, rinsed off, and got dressed.

Unable to reason with myself, I headed down to the kitchen to forage for lunch. I texted Rowdy to see if he wanted a sandwich, but he had gone off to the feed store for Tim and was going to get some fencing supplies after that. So, I made my solo sandwich, annoyed, yet unable to name what was annoying me so much.

That was a lie.

I knew exactly what was annoying me: It had been the post-fuck intimacy that’d scared him. So badly, in fact, that he beat a quick retreat the second I was unconscious.

Also, and this was definitely less important, but who rejects the skills of a world-class snuggler? It wasn’t like I did that shit with just anyone.

So, yeah. I was gonna have a little chat with Mr. Lockwood.

I built another sandwich and slid both into Ziplock bags, tossing them in the metal lunch pail I bought from the local farmer’s supply store, along with a few other necessities. Heading out of the house, I walked over to Woody’s gate and punched in the code that Rowdy had given me. I slipped in and hit the button to close the gate again, then headed up the steep drive.

I was about halfway up when a small herd of antelope ran by in the middle distance.

“What are you doing here?” Woody asked, riding out on Shadow from the small copse of trees. “This is a sanctuary. With wild animals. Some of whom get aggressive when startled.”

“Oh, I know all about that,” I said, my lip curling with frustration. “I’m here for a conversation with just such an animal.”

“We don’t need a conversation,” he muttered, sliding off Shadow with practiced ease.

“We sure as fuck do.”

“We had sex. So what? Didn’t mean nothin’.”

I clucked my tongue. “I’d believe you if you hadn’t run away like a scared child.”

“What do you mean, callin’ me scared? I ain’t scared of nothin’,” he said, his accent deepening with each word of protest.

Irked, I pushed him into the shade, not stopping until I’d shoved him against a tree.

“You sure about that, cowboy?”

His pretty eyes, luminous in the darkness and filled with something—anger or fear, or both, maybe—were driving me out of my mind. Dropping the lunch pail, I rocked back, then rocked forward into him, kissing him like my life depended on it.

He wasn’t kissing me back, though, so I pulled away.

Seriously, Em. What the fuck are you doing?

I nearly fell on my ass, then, when he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in for another, rougher kiss.

Okay, fine .

Once I found my balance, I pressed up against him, deepening the kiss as we slid our hard cocks together. He groaned, and I pushed my tongue into his mouth to silence him.

“I’m not scared,” he repeated the next time we came up for air.

“Prove it,” I growled, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him against the tree before he could protest.

I smashed my face into the muscular corner of his neck and shoulder, biting down as I roughly unbuttoned and unzipped him. I pulled away, opening up the lunch pail.

“Why’d you stop?”

Wordlessly, I held up a condom and a small bottle of lube.

“Fuck.”

He slid down his jeans and underwear, presenting his ass to me. “I’m still loose from earlier. Just do it.”

I rolled down the condom, lubed myself up, and ran my slick fingers over his hole.

“I said I’m ready.”

“Fine,” I replied, punching my hips forward.

God, fuck . Woody was hot and tight and so perfect I almost came right then and there. I withdrew and gripped my cock, begging it to calm down. Woody pushed his ass back, demanding even in his angry silence.

That irritated me enough to walk me down from the ledge, and I slammed into him again.

“Yeah, fuck me,” he ground out, thrusting back, giving as good as he got.

I went back to teething on that delicious spot on his neck, sending my still-slick hand down to his rigid, leaking cock, holding tight as he fucked himself between my fist and my shaft.

I’d always loved a good, hard fuck, but with my size I often had to tone it down for my lovers. That wasn’t a complaint, of course, but I’d never been with someone who wanted it—needed it—as rough as I did.

“ Coming ,” he gritted out, tightening around me as he anointed the tree with shot after shot of the creamy stuff.

God, I wanted him in every fucking position. I wanted his cum on my tongue, my spend dripping out of his ass.

Dropping his now-limp cock, I gripped his shoulders as he held himself up against the tree. I drilled into him, making his boot heels lift, then drop into the soft dirt as our panting breaths filled the air.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck ,” I cursed, giving into the shock of orgasm as it rocketed through every nerve path and muscle fiber in my body.