Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“Come on, now.” He weaves his fingers together and settles them on top of his head, nodding. “Get to rubbing, baby. You got me harder than anvil steel. Finish what you started like a good girl.”
We do this a lot. He sits back, and I climb on his lap, and we hump and grind, rubbing on each other for relief.
“All my friends, and their friends, and even our parents fucked before they got married,” I whine.
He shoots me a look as I pop up from my place next to him and bracket his thighs with mine. Friction from the hair on his legs scratches against my inner thighs as I settle on top of the enormous cowboy that is already family, which only sort of makes what we have together hotter.
We ain’t blood, but we sure as fire ain’t supposed to be play fucking in the back of his Ford.
“Jesus fuck.” He inhales, taking a handful of my hip and pressing my open folds down onto his hardness. “I swear your pussy smells sweeter every fucking time. You all nice and sloppy, like I like you?”
I nod and throw my head back as he lets me go, reaching down for the shirttails of his blue and black plaid pearl-snap Roper shirt with hands as big as baseball mitts. He tugs, all the snaps popping like tiny gunshots, exposing the wide planes of his chest, and I nearly come from the glory of the sight.
“Daddy,” I moan, knowing that name will get this bull bucking.
His dark eyes narrow as he works my open folds down on the solid length of his cock while simultaneously reaching up to weave his fingers into the roots of my hair. He tugs, exposing my neck, pulling me to his mouth, and sinks his teeth into my tender flesh.
“That’s right, baby. I’m Daddy. And when I get that ring on your finger, my name latched to the end of yours, you’ll get all the thick, Daddy dick your greedy, bratty pussy can handle.”
“Then let’s go do it. Right now. This truck has a half tank of gas, and that’s enough to get us to Wyoming. You can get married same day as you get your license there.”
I bob my eyebrows playfully, then immediately regret it when I see the flash of pain in his eyes. I’ve belonged to Roman since we were barely out of diapers, but there’s something in him that he can’t quite work out, and it sticks an iron poker in my heart.
He’ll marry me. I know he will. But he’s got chips on his shoulders the size of Mount Rushmore, rightful or not, and he needs to put those down before he carries me over a threshold.
He’s spent a few turns in the county lock-up for using his fists to end an argument instead of his boots to walk away from it.
I’m as addicted to that darkness as I am to his light. But Roman always sees every little mistake he makes as a personal failing.
His brother and sister never treated him any different than if they’d all been born to the same parents, and Allister and Leah raised him with the same love and discipline they gave the twins, but something came with Roman from his past that he can’t quite shake.
Doesn’t help that my actual daddy won’t stay off his case the last few years.
I mean, I understand he likely wouldn’t want anyone thinking filthy thoughts about his little girl, and we haven’t made it official to the family all that we’ve been doing in the back of his truck since we were sixteen.
But, still, my dad makes sure Roman knows his choices have consequences. And one of them is losing the respect of an uncle who made a living helping people who’d run their lives off the tracks.
“Tell me you love me,” Roman snarls as he works our needy parts together, that glorious tension rising up from the depths of my belly, melting when he takes my hair again. The burn as he pulls sends me to that place where the world disappears.
“I love you,” I blurt out without hesitation.
He knows I do, but he loves hearing me say it as much as he loves cheering me on at my competitions. Our future is filled with rodeos and silver belt buckles, and I can’t wait to hear my name called for the first time, ‘fastest time of the night goes to…Mrs. Emily Marshall!’ with Roman standing right behind me.
“God, Daddy.” I moan and flex my hips. I’m so close, the ridge of his cock popping on my clit as he rubs us together. My hands work the hem of my tank top upward as he leans forward and pinches the pink lace of my bra, ripping it down, exposing my breast.