by Pam Godwin
Speaking of dreams, I let mine wait long enough.
I approach her sleek, fluid silhouette and stare down at her sanguine lips. Her eyes open, soft and resounding in the fading light. Her mouth wears the hint of a smile, enough to suggest she’s enjoying her thoughts.
I step between her spread knees and curl my fingers around her neck. Her throat bounces against my thumb, but she stays quiet, attentive, and lets the weight of her upper body sink in the collar of my hand.
Her surrender’s as beautiful as the iridescence of color emblazoned on her body. Her muscle definition creates tight dips and winding trails along her outline. Flawless bone structure, skin like silk over porcelain, she glows with the kind of beauty that fucks with a man’s self-control.
Every part of me hardens and heats. Pulses of hunger throb below my belt, tightening my fingers around her throat and flooding my cock with blood.
Her gaze dips to my straining zipper, and she laughs at me. “Eager, are we?”
“You have no idea.”
She lifts her chin and touches her tongue to her lips. “I’m yours.”
Our future manifests inside me, brought into existence by those two words. I want to see my ring on her finger, her belly swollen with my child, and her veterinary clinic thriving beneath her dedication on our prosperous ranch.
I lower to my knees and roam my hands. Her body is my shrine, my place of worship, and I pay homage to every curve and crevice, kissing and licking, stroking and kneading.
She begs for my cock until I give it to her. Then she begs for release until she comes undone in my arms.
But I’m not finished with her, and her awareness of my plans flickers in her green-grass eyes.
“I’ll go slow.” I untie her arms and position her on her knees with her gorgeous ass in the air.
“That’s what you always say.” She laughs nervously.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
The fall of night robs us of the sunset colors and darkens the fields to obsidian. Bent over before me, she’s no more than a flowing black outline, sighing languidly and dripping with arousal.
I’ve played with her asshole often over the past month, getting her used to the sensations. She’s relaxed, and that means whatever’s going on in her head isn’t causing her to tense up.
Her knees grace the ground, her body swaying like a delicate flower in grass, and I take her as such. Lubricating and pushing against her ring of muscle with care.
Her flashbacks surface, but she fights them. I work her through it with starts and stops, running a hand up and down her spine and marking the changes in her breathing. It takes a while, but I have all the time in the world.
Eventually, she calms enough to accept me, and goddamn, she’s tight, squeezing and releasing around me. Nothing has ever felt this good. The impulse to pound into her grips my body, but I lock it down, keeping my thrusts slow and gentle.
“This is nothing like I remember.” She arches her back, relaxing further into my thrusts.
“Jesus, I hope not.” I dig my fingers into her hips.
She glances over her shoulder, eyes steady on mine and lips parted. “You can go faster.”
A blazing flame crackles and scorches the air between us. I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull, using my grip to bring her back to my chest and her head against my shoulder.
Then I fuck her, dragging my cock along the walls of her dark tunnel, grunting, and fingering her wet pussy. I suck hard on her neck and scrape teeth against tender skin. Her moans feed my hunger. Her breasts fill my hands, and she holds on, reaching back to clutch my ass.
This is us, wild and incendiary, dancing in the open air like a campfire. Galloping through the pasture against the wind. Soaring over the ridge with falcon wings and marveling at the glory of our life together.
I watch her profile as she comes, holding back my own release so I can savor hers—the silent scream, arched neck, and full-body tremors. She’s so much more than a gorgeous woman. She’s love and fight, laughter and tears, challenge and ecstasy.
She’s the best parts of my past come to life. Like a phantom dream.
Except I know this is real.
Because I’m more in love with the woman in my arms than my memories of her.
TRAILS OF SIN series continues with:
BUCKLED, Book 2
Jarret’s story
CLICK HERE
BOOTED, Book 3
Lorne’s story
CLICK HERE
Join my reader group, Read Between the Wines:
CLICK HERE
LOVE TRIANGLE ROMANCE
TANGLED LIES TRILOGY
One is a Promise-FREE
Two is a Lie
Three is a War
DARK ROMANCE
DELIVER SERIES
Deliver #1-FREE
Vanquish #2
Disclaim #3
Devastate #4
DARK PARANORMAL ROMANCE
TRILOGY OF EVE
Heart of Eve-FREE
Dead of Eve #1
Blood of Eve #2
Dawn of Eve #3
STUDENT-TEACHER ROMANCE
Dark Notes
ROCK-STAR DARK ROMANCE
Beneath the Burn
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Dirty Ties
EROTIC ROMANCE
Incentive
Run by Matt Nathanson and Sugarland
Mile On The Moon by Sarah Jarosz
Highway Don’t Care by Tim McGraw
What Hurts The Most by Rascal Flatts
Need You Now by Lady Antebellum
Beautiful War by Kings Of Leon
Girl Crush by Little Big Town
Kick It In The Sticks by Brantley Gilbert
Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars
Don’t Bite The Dick by David Allan Coe
Not Ready To Make Nice by Dixie Chicks
Whiskey and You by Chris Stapleton
Meant to Be by Bebe Rexha and Florida Georgia Line
Body Like A Back Road by Sam Hunt
Breathe by Faith Hill
To Shea Moran - Thank you for helping me with the playlist. I didn’t know where to begin with this, and you showed me the way. I might even like country music now. Maybe. Kind of. Okay, not really. But you introduced me to Coe and the brilliance of cowboy porn songs. I love you.
To the Freedom Fighters - You’re always there for me with the best kind of encouragement. I wouldn’t be able to do this job without you.
To my beta readers - Angela Ann, Tajana Cote, Brooke Hoover, Author Ellie Masters, Helene Cuji, Ketty Beale, Shea Moran - You’re fucking awesome. Like, after a night of mind-blowing, wall-banging, ravaging sex, and the next morning, you still feel all that affection and raw honesty in your bones… You’re that kind of awesome.
To my greyhounds - You have terrible gas and dig in my flower beds and ruin my hard work. But I forgive you with all the love in the world, because you’re my favorites.
To my family - Chad, Jaedha, and Leighton - Thank you for putting up with my neurotic schedule. I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I’ll love you even more tomorrow.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.
EMAIL: [email protected]
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