Her Cowboy

by Kat Catesby

  “I’m perfectly able to ride on my own, sorry to disappoint you. Guess you won’t be having my body pressed against you as you hoped.” My tone is light and flippant but my body has betrayed me slightly and we’re standing closer than is strictly acceptable in polite company.

  Still, that doesn’t seem to be close enough for Asher who leans in so close to my ear that I can feel his hot breath on the sensitive skin of my neck, raising tiny goosebumps and sending shivers fluttering to my core. “Sunshine, you have no idea what I’m hoping for,” he whispers in a low gravelly voice that screams sex and has heat pooling and throbbing between my legs.

  Jesus. I can feel the ache in my clit already. I revise my previous estimation, today is going to be a hard day.

  I wonder how long it will take before I soak through my jeans with the juices of my arousal.

  I’m already feeling slick.

  “No, but I know what you’re getting – you’re riding alone, cowboy.”

  This back and forth banter continues all the way down to the stables in the bright warmth of the morning sun and it’s refreshing. Laced with sexual innuendo and chemistry for sure, but still light-hearted and fun.

  “Well that decides it then,” he announces as I follow him inside the large rustic, but well-maintained red timber barn.

  “What does?” I pause as I spot the problem. “Ah, I guess it does.” The stables are empty except for one gigantic horse. Hmm.

  “Sorry boss, guests went out with Mike on the Southern Trail,” a voice calls out as its owner approaches us.

  “Katie this is Josh, my stable hand,” Asher indicates with his chin at the slightly shorter and leaner guy that has just joined us. “Josh, this is Katie, our new administrator.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” he says shaking my hand with a warm smile. “Brute is still good to go, boss,” motioning to the black and white behemoth of a horse in the end stall.

  “So, all the other horses are out?” I ask even though it’s kinda obvious they are.

  “All except Asher’s boy there,” Josh confirms.

  “You’re riding with me, Sunshine,” whispers Asher from behind me, once again tickling my neck with his warm breath and warming my body with his proximity.

  “On a giant named Brute?” I try to keep the alarm out of my voice but Brute is a big boy – figures really, given the size of Asher. His six-foot-something frame can hardly ride around on a pony. But this creature looks like an old English Shire Horse. Large, intimidating and literally out of my reach.

  “He’s ironically named. Brute is the biggest teddy bear there is. He’s all size and softness…with a deceptive dose of speed for a big guy. Come on,” Asher takes my hand and leads me to Brute’s stall. The warmth from his work-roughened hand sizzles through my veins and I consciously try not to swoon. Like an actual damsel swooning over a cowboy. How am I going to survive a day pressed up against Asher Scott on the back of his mammoth horse? I try to focus on the horse in question instead.

  I still remember the first time I came into contact with horses; it was later in my life than I’d have liked but their eyes blew me away. There are such depth and intelligence to them. They look at you like they can see through you to your soul and only if they find you worthy are you permitted to ride them. Looking at Brute now, I can see from his big doe eyes that he’s a beautiful, gentle giant and as reassuring as that is…it’s still not going to make my climb up to his saddle anymore ladylike.

  Asher mounts Brute effortlessly while I’m still figuring out the logistics of getting myself up that high…please don’t tell me I’m going to have to use the wooden steps they reserve for the kids who can’t ride. That would be humiliating, which I guess is nothing new.

  Asher’s smooth-as-honey voice brings me back to the problem at hand where I realize, he’s chuckling at me. “Thought you said you could ride, Sunshine?”

  “I can. I’ve just never had to mount anything so big –” I stop mid-sentence when Asher roars with laughter at my accidental double entendre.

  “I’m sure you haven’t sweetheart.” Is he actually wiping laughter tears from the corners of his sexy brown eyes?

  “I meant I’ve never ridden a horse so large let alone figured out how to climb on the back of one with another body already in the saddle,” I huff but there’s very little conviction to it; Asher’s laughter is the sweetest music and I want to hear much more it.

  Asher leans down towards me, “lift your leg.” I do and with one arm, he grabs hold of my left arm while the other hand snakes around the thigh of my raised left leg. My thighs have never felt as small as they do with Asher’s paw of a hand wrapped around it. Then, as if I weighed nothing, he lifts me off the stable floor, giving me enough clearance to swing my right leg over Brute’s formidable body.

  We shuffle around for a moment to make sure we’re both seated comfortably and evenly balanced and predictably, my chest ends up flush against Asher’s solid back, my thighs encasing his sculpted ass and muscular thighs.

  “Are you sure this isn’t too much weight for Brute?” I ask to distract myself from the feeling of Asher’s body against mine.

  He snorts and I can practically hear his eyes rolling as he leads us out of the stables and into the bright sunlight of a spring mountain morning. Not a cloud in the sky to dare rain on our parade.

  We spend the morning riding around Asher’s land, talking and laughing like old friends. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to when his smoldering eyes aren’t pinning you to the spot and melting your synapses. Instead, that honor went to the picture-perfect alpine scenery. There were a couple of times where I zoned out of my conversation with Asher completely – I didn’t think that was possible either – to stare off at the rolling green hills framed by jagged granite peaks rising up to dominate the blazing blue sky. A smattering of leftover snow still to melt at the highest peaks. Aspen glimmers in the distance through the midday sunshine haze and I wonder what Maddie is up to and if she had any luck on that work tip-off. Birds sing-song in a thick cluster of pine trees ahead of us at the northernmost border of the ranch; an elevated position that Asher brought us too so that I could take in the wonder of his property and land and well, the awe-inspiring vista in general.

  “Are you listening to me City Girl? Or did I blow your mind with what the world actually looks like away from all your strip malls?”

  I nudge him playfully in the back, as I’m guilty as charged but not likely to admit it to him. I’m also not going to admit how solid and arousing his back felt beneath my hand. Like a solid statue – broad, marble hard and hot to the touch.

  I’d been doing a good job, up to this point, of ignoring the way his body felt between my legs as we undulate in an almost sexual rhythm to Brute’s long, capable strides.

  Who am I kidding? I’ve not ignored it at all. The ache in my core is radiating through my body with hot, desperate tendrils igniting my skin at his every touch and movement. When Asher commands Brute to pick up the pace I’m forced to grip hold of his muscular body and feel the iron cords of those muscles tensing and rippling with his movements. I try not to gasp as my arousal begins to spiral out of control. My pussy throbs with white-hot need and there’s an ache in my clit that is becoming impossible to ignore. I ache to have this man inside me, those strong muscles coiled to unleash himself on me as he takes my body and bends it to the will of the deliciously huge cock I saw him sporting at breakfast.

  Yeah, I saw it.

  And it made my mouth water and nipples tense with hopeful anticipation.

  Think of me.

  That’s what he told me and it’s like the command has taken hold thoroughly and I can’t not think of him unless he commands that too. I want him to command me. In any way he wants.

  Wait. What?

  Since when do I want to give myself to yet another dominant male?

  Asher rides us faster; Brute really can move when he’s told to. The pleasant breeze whips past my face and loosens tendril
s of my hair from my hair elastic. I’m forced to grip Asher tighter with both my hands and my thighs and I swear he’s doing it on purpose. Anything to force my body closer to his…not that I’m complaining.

  The medley of sensations rioting through me means the only thoughts I’m capable of are ones on autopilot. The scenery, the sunshine, the breeze in my hair, the feeling of Brutes steady movements, the sensation of Asher’s powerful body rubbing against me…it’s peaceful, it’s bliss, it’s fire, it’s torture.

  Without permission my right-hand snakes it’s way upwards across the ridges and valleys of Asher’s abs and I curse the feeling of his shirt preventing me from feeling the silken heat of his skin against mine. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, my left-hand drifts downwards, caressing his side and coming to rest on the steel of his thick thigh. The punishing speed of Brute’s gallop has me resting my forehead against Asher’s back to avoid the slap of the fresh air blowing past us. Feeling his hot body through nearly every inch of my own and the exhilaration of galloping on horseback has me gasping, my pulse pounding.

  A tiny voice fights to bring me back to the here and now, futilely shouting that I’m caressing my boss in an all too intimate way but I can’t help it. Something about him draws me in. He’s magnetic and I’m caught in the pull of him. His gravity overpowers my better senses.

  Asher confidently holds the reins in one hand while the other reaches down and engulfs my hand on his thigh. For a heart-stopping moment I realize I’ve careened so far past the line of what’s appropriate, I can’t even see it anymore; Asher is going to remove my hand and fire me on the spot.

  And I’d deserve it. What has possessed me? I know the answer but it’s still no excuse. I know that I’m trying to work on putting my past well and truly behind me but this desperation for a man I barely know is taking that desire to the extreme. I’m surprised I have this level of arousal for him and the confidence to roam his body with my hands…without his permission.

  What have I done?

  I brace myself for the inevitable let down but instead, Asher moves my hand up his thigh and places it on the bulging, burning heat of his massive erection.

  My god.

  He’s huge.

  Thick, hot, rock hard and all for me…the thought has me rubbing his epic-length through the thick denim of his jeans, his clothing inhibiting my fingers from curling around the entirety of his impressive girth the way I want to. Asher laces his fingers with mine and lets out a low groan that hotwires its way to my dripping core. He presses his back into my chest, my tight nipples digging into him, the new angle exposing more of his glorious cock. My hand is eager to feel the hard satin of his skin there but it’s not exactly possible while mounted on Brute.

  Asher slows him to a stop behind a copse of trees, concealing us from view and he leans back and to the side, wrapping one strong arm around my waist while the other grips my thigh like a vice. Before I can figure out what’s happening, he’s lifted me from the saddle behind him and pulled me around to straddle his lap, the ridge of his throbbing erection pressing enticingly against my aching clit. I gush liquid desire as he snakes his hand into my hair and wraps my ponytail around his hand to hold my head mere inches from his. I can feel his hot breath tickling my lips. Locked in place like this, with his other arm still banded around my waist like a steel cable, his eyes bore into mine. Pure molten heat blazing. My lips part on a gasp and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from my over-primed body. His lips are velvet-soft but unyielding as he demands access to dance his tongue with mine. I’m hardly likely to decline his demands – I’m sexual mush in his hands.

  The intensity of the kiss climbs higher and higher; I drink him in and meet his probing tongue thrust for thrust, nipping and sucking and just generally losing my mind to the sensations he’s wracking my body with. His hands begin to roam my body, tickling up my sides until they come to rest on my breasts, his thumbs circling and pinching the puckered peaks of my nipples. I throw my head back gasping and moaning and arching into his touch and rolling my hips to grind myself onto his diamond-hard dick. I need the friction so badly. I start a rhythm of bucking and grinding as he groans, his nimble fingers unbuttoning my blouse until my breasts spill free, the crisp breeze further hardening my nipples into painful peaks throbbing with my need for him.

  “No bra?” he grunts in approval. All I can do is nod my head as he brings the wet warmth of his mouth to clamp over my breast, sucking the nipple between his teeth, eliciting a scream of pure pleasure from me.

  “More. Please…more,” I beg. He clamps his teeth down harder on my tender point and I feel the pleasure shoot straight to my core where I’m grinding frantically against him, needing the friction to relieve the burning ache building in my poor desperate clit.

  Asher turns his attention to my other breast, sucking and biting me while I squirm and moan like a wild animal. I vaguely register that Asher is holding me up in his lap, acting as a shock absorber between me and poor Brute; I’m surprised I’ve not startled him with the noises I’m making.

  I run my fingers through Asher’s thick hair and pull his mouth from my full, heaving breasts, tipping his head back to crash my lips against his, claiming him in another frenzied kiss. I used one arm around his neck to hold myself to him and keep my mouth anchored to his. The other takes his hand and brings it to the front of my jeans, his fingers tickling the exposed skin of my abdomen as we go. With his fingers entwined with mine, I pop the button on my jeans and unzip them enough for Asher to slide his fingers down over my mound and into the slick folds of my pussy. His thick fingers feel so good probing my wetness until they find the tight cluster of nerve endings that shoot fireworks across my skin. I shudder into his delicious touch and roll my hips seeking more of him.

  “No panties?” he murmurs against my lips. “Commando somethin’ you normally do, Sunshine?”

  Between gasps of pleasure, he continues to stroke my clit in gentle circles, I find the will power to form words. “Bra, yes. That’s normal for me as I hate wearing those contraptions. Panties? No. That’s all for you,” I moan as the first spasms of my orgasm sneak up on me.

  I don’t normally come from just clitoral stimulation alone; my pussy likes something to clamp down on when I climax. Asher certainly has magic fingers…fingers I want inside me when my orgasm goes off completely. I pull myself up out of his lap to give his fingers space to explore where I want them.

  Using my free hand, I try to guide his fingers to sink through my folds and into my sopping slit. “Finger fuck me while I come,” I half beg, half demand.

  Asher obliges and thrusts two thick digits knuckle deep into me, driving them in roughly over and over as I shatter around him, my cunt quivering around those magic fingers. I cry out as he wrings every last dripping ounce of my climax from me.

  “Fuck. You’re so gorgeous when you come, Katie.” He sounds almost as breathless as me as he presses his lush, full lips to mine in a flurry of soft kisses.

  “More,” I gasp. It’s the only word I can articulate but that orgasm wasn’t enough. I want him balls deep in my pussy and I’m impatient when I’m horny.

  Holding me tightly in his lap, he spurs Brute on towards the stables.

  In no time we come to an abrupt stop at the stable entrance. My shirt is still open, my rosebud nipples and ample breasts on display and my jeans undone. Mercifully Josh is nowhere to be seen, the stables are still empty and in an instant Asher has dismounted, lowering me gently to my unstable feet, securing Brute in his stall before rounding on me and backing me into another empty stall – one that has already been mucked out and is full of fresh hay.

  I can’t help but giggle at the notion of literally going for a roll in the hay. But I stop short when I see the dark, hungry and predatory look in Asher’s eyes penetrating the very depths of me. This man, this glorious specimen of all things exquisitely male, wants me, desires me…and is going to take me. That notion is an aphrodisiac to my body that is
already saturated with an unquenchable, burning need to have him take me. I shudder under his heated gaze, discarding my shirt and shimmying out of my jeans as he closes the stall door behind him.

  A moment of hesitation hits me and it must flicker across my face, rearranging my expression. Not because he’s my boss and this is unwise or because of the suddenness of my desire for him – there’s no going back from either of those now – but because I’m standing before him completely naked and exposed while he is still fully clothed. There’s an exchange of power here that is pushing the boundary of what I’m comfortable with. A level of vulnerability I didn’t think I could be capable of anymore.

  Asher must sense this; immediately his expression softens. The heat is still there, fuelling his very obvious desire for me but something in his demeanor changes in a soothing response to my sudden apprehension. I dare to believe that he truly understands me and hope swells in my chest, constricting my windpipe around a sob of relief.

  In seconds Asher sheds his clothes and stands before me gloriously naked; every spectacularly chiseled inch of him on display for my viewing pleasure. He’s leveled the playing field, making himself as exposed as me. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s now as vulnerable as I am, as the man has boundless confidence – and rightly so given the body he’s rocking – and no one as self-assured in their own skin as Asher is could ever be considered vulnerable.

  Surely?

  If Asher does have any vulnerabilities, they aren’t the obvious kind – they’re the type you have to dig deep for and may still never unearth unless he reveals them to you. I wish I was that self-possessed. But one step at a time. For now, I’ll settle for having all-consuming sex with a man guaranteed to occupy every part of me, leaving nothing left to dwell on my baggage.

  I tear my gaze from his to peruse the masculine beauty of his body; the guy doesn’t have an ounce of body fat. He’s all delicious hard ridges, bulging and flexing with his heavy breathing. Sexy sinew and smooth tan skin sheathing a perfect body of steel muscle. He’s not bodybuilder bulky, nor is he the lean muscular type. He has the large, dominating body of a man who’s worked hard labor every day of his life to get the sex-god physique he’s displaying for me. There’s nothing gym induced or artificial about him. Just raw, primal, barely contained strength. And now that I can see all of him, his cock is a thing of beauty. Bigger than I anticipated – long, thick, proud and ramrod straight pointing all the way up to his belly button. It’s the dick that male porn stars dream of. I’m determined to fit all of him inside me.