Sweet Water Vet: Taking Rachael Part 11

She pushed back against him. He took that as a cue to lengthen his strokes but maintained a slow pace, which allowed her to undulate her hips. She tried to reach back to clasp his b.a.l.l.s but he stopped her hand.

"Uh-uh, I don't need any more stimulation than you're giving me, darlin'. I want this to last." He wasn't about to blow his load like a young buck desperate for a f.u.c.k. Who was he trying to kid? Fact of the matter was that he was desperate, and it took all of his self-discipline not to ravish her.

He pushed his thumb as far as it would go into her and worked it back and forth in time with the slow pumping of his c.o.c.k. Then he stopped and wound an arm around her waist to guide her to an upright 86 position. Her muscles tightened around his hand and c.o.c.k, adjusting to the new angle of penetration.

"Put one arm around my neck."

She reached up and back to comply. He kissed her nape and ran his free hand over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, stomach and mound before alighting on her c.l.i.t, which he caressed with a light circular motion. He wanted her to come one more time before they found release together. She began to tremble as he increased the pressure of his finger.

"Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, Joshua," she screamed as she ground down on his thumb and c.o.c.k, drawing him deeper with strong silky muscles clasping his length. He stilled, waited until the initial ripples subsided, then slowly bent her forward again, only farther than before, so that she was resting low on her shoulders with her a.s.s high. It was a totally submissive position, leaving him highly aroused.

He removed his thumb slowly, and she gasped as her muscles closed behind it. Wiping himself on the washcloth, he then ran his hands over her a.s.s. The sight of her presented this way excited him more than he could have imagined. He was filled with carnal l.u.s.t.

Grabbing hold of her hips, he withdrew almost completely from her p.u.s.s.y and then plunged forward, impaling her hard and deep. He felt his c.o.c.khead b.u.t.t the end of her cervix.

"Oh, you're so big," she cried, moving back to grind herself on him. He began to forcibly thrust into her, picking up the pace, ramming her with his c.o.c.k. Their grunts and groans and the sound of his b.a.l.l.s slapping her a.s.s filled the room.

"Is-this-the-f.u.c.king-you-wanted?" he ground out with each powerful stroke.

He barely heard her reply through the pounding of blood in his ears, her panting, and her cries of pleasure. She pushed back, meeting his thrusts, urging him on.

"Answer me," he commanded.

"Yes-f.u.c.k-yes, it's more," she cried.

"You are mine. Say it."

87.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"Yes, yours. I'm yours," she howled, shuddering with o.r.g.a.s.mic spasms of release.

"Rachael!" His guttural reciprocating roar drowned out all other noise as he shot copious amounts of c.u.m into her womb. He clasped her to him as her c.u.n.t ma.s.saged his c.o.c.k with powerful contractions, the likes of which he had never before experienced. It took him over the edge to oblivion and his world wheeled around. As he pulsed, he felt as if he had died and gone to heaven-his piece of heaven, Rachael.

Unable to stand, he collapsed onto the bed, his sweat-covered body over hers, remembering just in time to take the weight on his arms and not her back. Still deep inside, he held her closer and they remained that way for several minutes, slowly regaining their breath, clearing their l.u.s.t-fogged minds, coming down to earth.

Eventually, he shifted and rolled onto his side, taking Rachael with him. He kissed her shoulder and neck, drowsily playing with her nearly dry curls while she stroked his leg that was over her hip and entwined her fingers with his. She snoozed for a little while and he enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her close.

Rachael's stomach rumbled.

"Someone's hungry."

His voice brought her back to full consciousness. Neither of them had eaten much earlier that morning, and it was now pa.s.sed midday.

"Man cannot live on s.e.x alone," she misquoted with a satisfied sigh.

"Unfortunately. Do you have any food in?"

"A little. Enough for a snack, I need to stock up."

"Okay, you prepare the food. I'll make the coffee, and we'll have that talk you mentioned earlier."

"Sounds like a plan, but I'll just take another quick shower."

He raised his eyebrow.

88.

"Alone, or we'll never get fed." She scowled playfully.

"Okay, I'll get in when you've finished."

He slipped out of her and planted a kiss on her cheek before moving to the bathroom and wrapping a towel around his waist.

Rachael couldn't keep her eyes off him, he noticed with satisfaction.

She climbed off the bed and brushed past him as she headed to the shower. He grabbed her wrist and openly appraised her naked body.

"You are a beautiful woman, Miss Harrison."

He felt his libido stir again, even after such a thorough sating.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Ryden, sir," she said in her best imitation of a Southern Bell and turned toward the cubicle. She chuckled, then yelped, as he swatted her a.s.s.

Rachael marvelled at how familiar and comfortable it felt to have him there with her. They sat at her small dining table eating hastily a.s.sembled bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. She wore a bathrobe, and he had a towel wrapped around his waist. He had asked her lots of questions about her life in England, her family, her work, and about what she liked to do in her spare time. She found that she enjoyed telling him, relating funny stories and describing her friends.

She realized that behind the slow Texan drawl was a quick mind keeping pace with her thoughts and that he was able to discuss a wide range of topics. He was a good listener and seemed genuinely interested in her.

She didn't pry too much into his life, but he seemed to open up and talk freely with her about himself. She was pleasantly surprised at how easily he smiled and laughed with her. It was a side she suspected others didn't see much. It was hard to reconcile the relaxed man at her table with the stern, granite-faced cattle rancher.

89.

She decided that it couldn't just be infatuation, but even though she was relaxed in his company, she was always aware of the potent s.e.xual attraction between them simmering now just below the surface.

Rachael got up to put their plates and cups by the sink.

"Come home with me. I'll cook dinner tonight."

"You cook?" She was surprised.

"Hey, mult.i.talented," he teased, indicating to himself. "Even I have a creative side."

"I sure bet that you do." She purred, looking him down and up.

The atmosphere changed suddenly, and s.e.xual tension charged the air. Moving faster than seemed plausible for such a big man, he s.n.a.t.c.hed her away from the sink. Reacting quickly, she pivoted and almost twisted away but couldn't break completely free as he pushed her toward the wall. Grabbing her bathrobe, he tugged it down past her shoulders, baring her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She struggled, but it only served to reveal more of her body and caused his towel to fall to the floor. The sight of his stiff, ready c.o.c.k and the feral, predatory gleam in his eyes thrilled, worried and excited her.

"I can't get enough of you," Joshua ground out in a l.u.s.t laden voice. He kissed her roughly and pushed her hard against the wall.

Escape was unwanted and futile, but she couldn't make it too easy, either. The warped need to know what he was capable of was too strong. Intending to deny him access, she slapped her thighs together and tried to push him back with her hands on his chest. She could have been pushing against a huge boulder for all the difference it made. He easily kicked her legs apart and, keeping them pinned against his own, pushed her up the wall while gripping her b.u.t.tocks and pressing his strong body against hers. With her poised over his straining c.o.c.k, he stilled. He could easily impale her, and she could do nothing about it. But he waited, needing her capitulation. After several heart-thumping seconds, she acquiesced, wrapping her legs around his waist. He slammed her down, skewering her on his thick, rock-solid length. She cried out at the exquisite initial invasion and 90 then sobbed with pleasure as he shafted her rough and hard. It was over quickly when they shouted their simultaneous climax.

After a minute, Joshua shakily carried her to the sofa and sat down, staying inside her still-quivering c.u.n.t, gently stroking her back and kissing her face.

"You're insatiable," she murmured through his kisses.

"You bring it out," he echoed back her words from the shower.

When the aftershocks subsided and her mind cleared, she realized that s.e.x with him was the most thrilling and satisfying she had ever had. Again, he had taken her, and she had submitted. Would he be game for a bit of role reversal? An idea came to her-a way that she could explore the possibilities.

"I'll make a deal with you, Ryden. We'll play a game of chance and skill. Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the day until midnight."

He gave her a calculating look. "Whatever the winner wants?

What are the rules?" Obviously he wasn't stupid.

"Best of three games of, uh, say, poker, although it has been ages since I last played." She tried to sound nonchalant. It was her best game. "The winner has complete control. Obviously there are limits.

For example, I promise not to paint your toes pink and I won't hurt you...much," she taunted. She expected to have him begging for release before the end of the night. Joshua Ryden needed to drop the reins of control occasionally, too, and she'd make sure that he enjoyed it. "You can choose the game." She smiled innocently.

A slow, sinful grin spread across his face. "Oh, poker is fine with me, although I'm a bit rusty."

"Okay, let's get dressed and then play." She eased herself off him and almost skipped to her bedroom in delight that he had so readily agreed.

He was picking up his clothes from all over the floor and dressing quickly when she returned.

91.

"I want to avoid any misunderstanding arising from this little game we're playing, darlin'. We need a safe word. How about red?

That word immediately calls a halt to whatever we're doing, agreed?"

Rachael paused for a moment, realising the full extent of what she'd started. Joshua certainly seemed more experienced than her, although she suspected he'd never been on the receiving end.

Nevertheless, she was fairly confident that, this time, she'd be giving it to him.

"Good idea. Make sure that if necessary you say it loud and clear." She smirked.

He snorted but said nothing.

"The rules are that you can fold a maximum of three times and not lose, okay?"

"Fine with me."

Rachael slowly and clumsily dealt the cards and saw a brief expression of sympathy on Joshua's face. No doubt he was thinking that it would be like taking candy from a baby. It obviously came as somewhat of a shock to him when he lost the first hand. He sat back, slightly stunned. He'd been complacent, just as she'd planned. He should have folded but she had bluffed. She had pouted and looked unhappy with her cards, when in fact they had been good. She tried hard not to gloat.

"Wow, just lucky, I guess." She smiled sweetly at him while picking up the cards and shuffling them like a croupier. She winked at him as she expertly dealt the cards. Yep, he'd been duped and he now knew it.

"Best of three, darlin'." He reminded her.

He smiled like a politician, and she didn't trust it. Joshua won the next hand.

"Just luck, I guess." He grinned, but it had been a close thing and he didn't look quite so c.o.c.ky.

The seeds of worry began to germinate in Rachael's mind. She'd b.l.o.o.d.y well miscalculated. Joshua was not a man to underestimate.

92.

He deliberately dealt the next hand awkwardly and slowly, watching her with a sarcastic expression the entire time. The fun gleam in his eye when she had suggested the game now seemed a lot more sinister.

Stay focused on the game, Rachael.

He put his hands behind his head, looking relaxed and displaying his bulging biceps. b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She knew what he was doing: trying to distract her. Keeping her eyes on her cards, she slowly licked her lips and then traced her finger around her mouth, tapped her teeth, and occasionally sneaked her tongue out to touch the finger, looking like she was concentrating hard and not being suggestive at all. When she peeked up through her eyelashes, it took all of her effort not to smirk because he was staring fiercely at her mouth.

He cleared his throat and looked at his cards. His face was a mask of neutrality.