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Chapter no 15 – RIONA

Broken Vow (Brutal Birthright Book 5)

I wake up early in the morning. Even earlier than I do when I have to get into the office.

It might be because I fell asleep at eight-thirty the night before. Or it might be the birdsong right outside my window. Itโ€™s not louder than city noiseโ€”I can usually hear traffic sounds or muffled thumps from the neighboring apartments in my building. But Iโ€™m used to that.

The birds are shrill and insistent. Not an unpleasant sound, but one that cuts right through my sleep because I havenโ€™t heard anything like that before. Not right outside my window, first thing in the morning.

The sunlight seems different, too. Brighter and more direct. Not filtered through buildings. Pale yellow.

Thereโ€™s a certain energy that comes from waking up in an unfamiliar place. I feel alert and curious. Wanting to see more of everything in full daylight.

I slip out of bed and put on some of the clothes that Bo lent me the night before. Sheโ€™s almost as tall as me, and close to the same build. Thereโ€™s definitely more muscle on her frame. The ranch is more strenuous than the gym, I guess.

I pull on Boโ€™s jeans, worn comfortable. Her shirt is likewise soft and clean, with that fresh laundry smell. I pull my hair into a ponytail. I donโ€™t have any of my usual suppliesโ€”my four-hundred-dollar hair-straightener is probably a lump of melted metal now, so I canโ€™t make my hair sleek and smooth like

I usually do. In fact, in the humidity, itโ€™s heading past wavy into almost curly.

I hate when my hair gets unruly. It makes me feel powerless. If I canโ€™t control my own hair, then how can I control anything in my life?

Itโ€™s frustrating not to have any of my things hereโ€”clothes, underwear, eyeliner. I keep thinking that if I go back to Chicago it will all be there waiting for me, but I know thatโ€™s not true. It all burned up. The only thing waiting is the enormously daunting task of filing an insurance claim for everything I lost. Some of which can never be replaced.

At least I didnโ€™t have anything truly priceless at my place. Nessa got grandmotherโ€™s ring when she married Mikolaj, instead of it going to me as the oldest daughter, as was tradition.

I donโ€™t regret telling Mom to give it to her.

At the time I was certain Iโ€™d never get married. I mean I am still certain. And it always suited Nessa better. She loves things that are beautiful, vintage, and sentimental. Things that have history. Thatโ€™s why she loves living in Mikolajโ€™s ancient mansion. I think the place is creepy as fuck, but she adores every inch of it.

Anyway, the ring was meant for her. What would my perfect house look like?

I thought it was my condo. Because it was a space that belonged only to me.

Now the idea of buying another place like the one I just lost . . . it doesnโ€™t excite me. In fact, it makes me feel a kind of empty dread that I donโ€™t quite understand. I loved that apartmentโ€”why donโ€™t I want another one? Am I afraid of being there alone? Afraid of someone pouring gasoline under my door again?

I donโ€™t think thatโ€™s it. But I feel confused when I try to think what I want in the next month, or the next six months. Usually my path forward is so clear. I know exactly what I want to accomplish.

All of a sudden Iโ€™m strangely lost . . .

Finishing the messy ponytail, I brush my teeth and wash my face, and then head downstairs.

Raylanโ€™s already sitting in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in front of him and another steaming mug in front of the empty chair next to him.

โ€œIs that for me?โ€ I ask him. โ€œOf course.โ€

I sit down and take a sip. The coffee is rich and dark.

Raylan looks more himself than ever. His scruff is almost becoming a beard. Thereโ€™s something wild and animalistic about his hair, the way it springs up thick and black from his forehead, the way his dark brows look devilishly pointed above his bright blue eyes, and the way his facial hair outlines his lips and jaw like bold strokes of ink.

I canโ€™t imagine him without that hair. Itโ€™s as much a part of him as the blue of his eyes, or his wolfish white teeth, or the shape of his hands resting on his blue-jeaned thighs. His hands are large, rough, calloused, and scarred in spots. A shiver runs up my spine, looking at them. One of his hands tenses slightly against his thigh, as if it can feel me looking at it.

I pull my eyes away, taking a sip of hot coffee so hasty that it burns my mouth.

โ€œYou want some breakfast, too?โ€ Raylan asks me.

I can hear that heโ€™s smiling, even before I look at his face. โ€œDid you already eat?โ€ I ask him.

โ€œYup,โ€ he says. โ€œIโ€™ve been up a while. Thereโ€™s oatmeal on the stove, though.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m fine,โ€ I tell him.

โ€œWell,โ€ he says, pushing back his chair from the table. โ€œYou want to come out for a ride still?โ€

โ€œOf course,โ€ I say.

Iโ€™m trying to sound confident, but Iโ€™m regretting what I committed to last night. I am curious what itโ€™s like to ride a horse, but Iโ€™m also realizing how totally out of control Iโ€™m going to be, sitting on the back of an animal five times my size. Or moreโ€”fuck, I have no idea what a horse weighs.

I could ask Raylan, Iโ€™m sure he knows. But that will make me look even more ignorant.

All I can do is follow him out the back door, out into the sprawling grounds behind the house.

I see a large vegetable garden, and another garden full of fruit and flowers: raspberry canes, rose bushes, lilacs, and apple trees.

Then, beyond that, I see the stables, two barns, and several large paddocks.

Everything looks clean and well-maintained. The barns look freshly painted, and the fields are nicely mowed. No trash or tools lay out of place anywhere in sight.

I can see two horses standing next to the stable, already saddled and bridled. One is huge and dark grayโ€”so dark he almost looks black. The other is a pretty caramel-colored horse with a black mane and tail. Her coat is so smooth and shiny that she almost looks metallic.

โ€œThe big one is Brutus,โ€ Raylan says. โ€œThe other is Penny. Sheโ€™s a sweetheartโ€”the nicest horse weโ€™ve got. So youโ€™ll ride her, while I take Brutus. Heโ€™s not as nice, but he gets mad if Penny goes anywhere without him.โ€

โ€œAlright,โ€ I say, giving Brutus a wide berth. He looks over at me with his large black eye, on which I canโ€™t see any white. He doesnโ€™t seem friendly, but heโ€™s not aggressive at least.

Penny, by contrast, eagerly puts her velvety nose into Raylanโ€™s palm, then rubs the side of her head against his shoulder, making a gentle snuffing sound.

โ€œYou miss me, Penny?โ€ Raylan says, in his low, husky voice.

I donโ€™t know why, but hearing the tone he uses with the horses has an effect on me, too. It sends little prickles down my arms.

โ€œAlright,โ€ Raylan says to me, calm and confident as ever. โ€œHereโ€™s what weโ€™re gonna do. Iโ€™m gonna get you set up on Penny first . . . youโ€™re gonna put your left foot here in the stirrup, and youโ€™re gonna grab this little knob here on the saddle, itโ€™s called the pommel. And Iโ€™m gonna help you swing your right leg over the horse. Iโ€™ll kinda help boost you.โ€

Trying not to show how nervous I feel, I slip my left foot into the closest stirrup. Raylan is holding Penny steady, though I suspect she would have stood there patiently either way. Even though she radiates gentleness, and she isnโ€™t nearly as massive as Brutus, sheโ€™s still much taller than I expected. I donโ€™t quite see how Iโ€™m going to get my other leg over her back, when that back is higher than my shoulder.

However, as I step up into the stirrup, Raylan puts his large hands around my waist and helps lift me up. With his boost, my right leg swings easily over the saddle.

Now Iโ€™m sitting on Pennyโ€™s back, and itโ€™s damned high up. Sheโ€™s wider than I expectedโ€”Iโ€™m lucky that Iโ€™m relatively tall and long-legged, otherwise, Iโ€˜d have a hard time getting my thighs around her. But the saddle is comfortable. It smells nicely of leather, and Penny smells nice tooโ€”like clean hay and sunshine. Beneath that, a not-unpleasant scent of animal sweat.

Raylan passes me the reins and shows me how to grip them. โ€œJust sit tight one second while I get up too,โ€ he tells me.

He hops up on Brutusโ€™s massive back in one smooth motion that looks as easy as stepping up on a curb. I can see this is second nature to Raylan. He sits comfortably on the large, dark horse, directing Brutus with the smallest motion of his hand on the reins, or his heel against the horseโ€™s side.

โ€œGive her a little tap with your heels like this,โ€ Raylan directs me. โ€œDonโ€™t worry, you wonโ€™t hurt her.โ€

I give Penny a gentle tap, and obediently she starts walking forward. Sheโ€™s probably following Raylan and Brutus more than listening to me. Still, Iโ€™m

glad to see that she doesnโ€™t take off galloping.

Even walking jolts me around more than I expected. Her shoulders and haunches roll beneath me in a way that isnโ€™t quite regular. Itโ€™s hard to catch the rhythm so I donโ€™t bounce around in the saddle.

โ€œYouโ€™re doing great!โ€ Raylan says.

I have to laugh at that. Weโ€™ve only taken a couple of steps. Iโ€™m not doing great at all.

Raylan stays close to me, Brutus just a little ahead of Penny so that itโ€™s clear whoโ€™s leading. He keeps the pace slow to start. We amble across the meadow. The grass is a little higher here, and full of tiny white butterflies that flutter upward in papery clouds as the horses swish through. The early morning sunshine makes the dew sparkle. The grass smells sweet, and the air is fresher than any Iโ€™ve tasted before. No hint of exhaust like youโ€™d taste everywhere in the city.

Itโ€™s coolโ€”maybe sixty degrees. But I donโ€™t feel chilly with the sun shining on my head and warm horseflesh beneath me.

After Iโ€™ve gotten used to walking, Raylan shows me how to trot. This is less comfortableโ€”I have to stand up more in the stirrups, and I feel ridiculous bouncing on the horse.

โ€œItโ€™s actually more comfortable to gallop,โ€ Raylan tells me. โ€œI donโ€™t know about that . . . โ€ I say hesitantly.

โ€œJust grab the reins like thisโ€โ€”he shows meโ€”โ€œand lean forward more, so youโ€™re closer down to her neck . . . โ€

He helps me get in a better position. Then he shouts, โ€œHA!โ€ and the horses take off.

Weโ€™re out in an open field, bright green and velvety. The ground is soft underneath us, so Iโ€™d probably be alright if I fell. But I donโ€™t want to test that theory. I cling to Penny with my knees, leaning low over her neck, gripping tight on the reins until they almost cut into my hands.

Her hooves thunder beneath me. Raylan is rightโ€”it is actually easier to follow the rhythm of her movement at a gallop. The wind streaming into my face is cool and clean and invigorating.

Brutus seems thrilled to be running. Heโ€™s stretching his neck out low, his powerful legs churning, not even seeming to feel the weight of Raylan on his back. The two horses run in tandem, only a couple of feet between them.

Itโ€™s beautiful, utterly beautiful. The vast stretches of the ranch seem endless all around us. The sky is like a huge, inverted bowl, brilliantly blue like Raylanโ€™s eyes, almost cloudless. My heart is racingโ€”partly from fear, but also from exhilaration. My hair comes loose from the ponytail and it streams out behind me like Pennyโ€™s tail. Iโ€™m not gripping the reins so tight anymore. Iโ€™m squeezing Penny with my legs, wanting her to run faster and faster. Wanting to feel exactly this, more and more.

Raylanโ€™s right beside me. He lets out a whoop, partly to urge on the horses, and partly out of pure happiness. Itโ€™s the most gorgeous day Iโ€™ve ever seen. These animals are powerful and brilliant. They love to run. They seem to know how pleasurable it is for us, too.

Raylan keeps looking over at me, making sure Iโ€™m comfortable and safe. Making sure Iโ€™m enjoying this as much as he is.

Iโ€™ve never felt anything like this. A lot of the things I do for pleasureโ€” swimming, runningโ€”are meant to calm me down. Put me in a zen state.

This is the opposite. I feel enlightened. I feel alive. I feel terrified and exhilarated and thrilled, all at once. I can see every golden hair on Pennyโ€™s smooth coat, every blade of bright green grass, every bird soaring overhead. I can smell the trees and the grass and even Raylanโ€™s skin more acutely than ever.

My muscles are aching from the strain of doing something so foreign to my usual activity. But it feels good. I feel powerful like the horse. Limitless like the open space. Wild like . . . like Raylan, I guess. He always seems like a force of nature. Like he could never belong to a city or a place. Heโ€™s just himself, at all times. Wherever he might be.

At last Raylan makes a clicking sound and pulls back on the reins. Brutus reluctantly obeys, coming to a trot and then a gentle walk. Penny matches his pace exactly. I can feel her rapid breathing, and the heat of her body. Iโ€™m the sameโ€”panting and sweating. But exhilarated. Not wanting to slow down.

โ€œWhy are you stopping?โ€ I ask Raylan.

โ€œThereโ€™s a stream up here,โ€ he says. โ€œThe horses can have a drink.โ€

He leads us over to a thicket of trees. Sure enough, I can hear water running through. The trees grow in a double line on either side of a small river. Itโ€™s like an oasis in the grass.

The day is heating up, the sun coming more directly overhead. Iโ€™m hot from the ride, as are the horses.

Raylan gets down from Brutusโ€™s back and helps me dismount. He takes off the horsesโ€™ saddles and rubs them down. They roll around briefly on the grass, which alarms me for a moment as Brutus flops over abruptly, then rolls with his legs in the air like a dog would do. I laugh, amused to see such a massive animal behaving that way.

Penny does the same as soon as the saddle is off. It makes me happy to see them enjoying themselves, after they carried us all this way and gave me an experience like Iโ€™ve never had before.

Once theyโ€™ve rolled around, they drink from the stream, and then start cropping the soft grass, pulling up mouthfuls.

โ€œCan they eat that?โ€ I ask Raylan. โ€œOf course,โ€ he says.

โ€œI donโ€™t know anything about horses,โ€ I admit. โ€œOr any animals, really.โ€

โ€œYou rode so well,โ€ Raylan says. โ€œI canโ€™t believe youโ€™ve never done it before.โ€

โ€œI think itโ€™s easier on Penny.โ€

โ€œIt is,โ€ Raylan admits. โ€œWeโ€™ve had a lot of good horses. But none as intuitive as her.โ€

Raylan is sweating, too. I can see the clear sweat running down his neck into the open collar of his shirt. I can smell his scent, warm like the grass, strong like the horses.

โ€œAre you hot?โ€ he asks me. โ€œYes,โ€ I admit.

โ€œThe waterโ€™s clean,โ€ he says, unbuttoning his shirt. He pulls it open and strips it off, so heโ€™s standing there bare-chested in just his jeans.

I canโ€™t help staring. Iโ€™ve seen Raylan shirtless several times now, but this is the best heโ€™s ever lookedโ€”his muscles swollen from riding, his skin bright with sunshine and sweat, his waist looking impossibly tight compared to his broad shoulders and his worn blue jeans.

Raylan isnโ€™t as massive as Dante, but heโ€™s aesthetic in a completely different way. If Dante is a bull, then Raylan is a stallion. He looks fast as well as strong. Lean, and capable.

Heโ€™s exotic to me like no man Iโ€™ve met before. Iโ€™ve known gangsters and businessmen and high rollers of all kinds. But Iโ€™ve never known a man with Raylanโ€™s charm and authenticity. Iโ€™ve never known a man whoโ€™s good at so many things. Dean was the best thoracic surgeon in the city, but he couldnโ€™t fix his kitchen sink to save his life. I think you could put any tool in the world into Raylanโ€™s hands and heโ€™d figure it out.

Maybe Iโ€™m losing it, after all the things Iโ€™ve been through the past few weeks. But I find myself staring at him in awe. Thinking Iโ€™ve never seen a more attractive man.

Thatโ€™s when he starts unbuttoning his jeans. โ€œWโ€”what are you doing?โ€ I stammer.

I never fucking stammer. Iโ€™m a lawyer. Iโ€™m endlessly articulate. But as Raylan unzips his jeans, I couldnโ€™t form a sentence to save my life.

โ€œIโ€™m gonna cool off in the water,โ€ he says, his mouth quirked up in a half- smile. โ€œCare to join me?โ€

He drops his jeans. Then, keeping his brilliant blue eyes fixed on mine, he hooks his thumbs in his boxer shorts and pulls those down, too.

His cock hangs down between his legs, thick and heavy and uncut. Itโ€™s even darker than his tanned body, with trimmed black hair around it, as thick as the hair on his head.

My heart is hammering against my ribs so fast that it feels like one continual beat. My mouth is salivating, and I canโ€™t stop staring at his cock. Iโ€™m flushed with heat and I feel an aching, clenching sensation between my thighs.

I have never felt this response to a manโ€™s cock. I donโ€™t know what the fuck is happening to me.

Maybe itโ€™s because Iโ€™ve never seen one that big. Or that animalistic. Itโ€™s making me respond like Iโ€™m in heat.

This is so unlike me. Iโ€™m never rabid. Iโ€™m never out of control.

I rip my eyes away from his body. Iโ€™ve seen Raylan nearly naked several times. But completely naked . . . thatโ€™s a whole different thing. Thereโ€™s something about seeing him stripped down outdoors, in his natural element. Itโ€™s vastly more powerful.

Iโ€™m in his space now. On his land. In his control.

As if sensing the same thing, Raylan says, in his deep, commanding voice, โ€œTake off your clothes.โ€

Heโ€™s never ordered me around before. Nobody orders me around.

My natural inclination is to toss my head and tell him to fuck off. Thatโ€™s what Iโ€™d usually do.

But then Raylan takes a step toward me, and more gentlyโ€”in the same tone he used with Pennyโ€”he says, โ€œCome on. Strip down. Get in the water. Youโ€™ll like it.โ€

And like heโ€™s fucking hypnotized me, I find my fingers unbuttoning my shirt. Baring my skin to the sunshine and the breeze. I take off my shirt, and the bra underneath.

I can feel Raylanโ€™s eyes roving hungrily over my bare breasts. My breasts are small and extremely pale. The nipples are light pink, barely darker than my flesh.

I unzip my jeans and pull them down, my underwear too.

I have a tuft of trimmed hair as vibrantly red as the hair on my head. Men go insane for it. They obsess over it.

I look at Raylanโ€™s face, to see what he thinks of my body.

His eyes are so bright that they look as if theyโ€™re on fire, like the blue flame under a gas burner. His lips are parted hungrily, and I see a glint of those sharp white teeth.

โ€œCome on,โ€ he says huskily.

He steps down into the stream, to a place where the river widens and flattens, creating a small pool. The water is perfectly clear, so you can see the smooth stones beneath.

Raylan gives me his hand to help me down.

His touch is like an electric jolt. The energy runs up my arm, and I can feel my nipples stiffening. Every step I take seems to make my pussy lips rub together. Iโ€™ve never been naked outside before. Iโ€™ve never been nude in front of a man like thisโ€”a man Iโ€™m not supposed to be dating or fucking.

The water is cold, but it doesnโ€™t jolt me nearly as much as Raylanโ€™s skin. I can barely feel the water on my flesh compared to how intensely I feel his eyes roaming over me.

Iโ€™ve never seen him look so ferocious. His warmth and humor have all burned away, replaced by an intensity I never would have guessed he possessed.

I sink down into the stream, hoping the cold water will help cool my lust.

Raylan does the same. He splashes the clear water on his face and chest, washing himself clean of sweat. He dunks his head under and shakes the sparkling droplets out of his thick, black hair.

I try not to stare at him. But every movement flexes the muscle on his broad frame. When he turns, I canโ€™t help but stare at his wide back and his tight, round ass cheeks. When he rinses his hair, his biceps bulge like softballs, and I can see the narrow bands of muscle running across his ribs and down his torso.

And then thereโ€™s that heavy cock, that swings and hits his thigh with an audibleย thwap.ย It doesnโ€™t shrink in the cold water. In fact, when Raylan runs his eyes down my body again, I think itโ€™s swelling with arousal.

I can feel the cool water between my thighs. The flowing stream runs between my pussy lips. No matter how I try to shift to stop the stimulation, it only becomes more intense. I can feel the flush on my pale skin. I know Raylan can see it, too. He can see my rock-hard nipples and my flaming red face.

I tell myself weโ€™re just skinny dipping.

I tell myself that nothing is going to happen.

Raylan is a professional. Heโ€™s my bodyguard. Thatโ€™s all, thatโ€™s it. He knows I donโ€™t want anything else . . .

But of course, thatโ€™s a fucking lie.

I wantย him.ย I want him right now. Itโ€™s all over my face. I canโ€™t hide it.

โ€œAre you still dating Dean?โ€ Raylan asks me bluntly. His voice is low and intent. His eyes burn into mine.

โ€œI . . . I . . . โ€

That fucking stammering again. I should lie and tell him weโ€™re still together.

Raylan is tempting in a way that terrifies me. Iโ€™ve never been so aroused by a man. Iโ€™ve never felt this desperate.

Iโ€™m used to being pursued. Iโ€™m used to having the upper hand.

I have no advantage with Raylan. If I let go right now, if I give in to this desire, Iโ€™ll be completely out of control. Iโ€™ll be in totally uncharted territory. I donโ€™t understand my desire for him, or how I feel about him as a man. Sometimes he drives me insane. And sometimes I admire him, against my will. None of that is normal for me. None of it is comfortable.

He scares me. My only protection is pretending I donโ€™t want this. Pretending Iโ€™m committed to another man.

But I canโ€™t lie to Raylan. Heโ€™s too honest, too open. And too damn perceptive. Heโ€™ll know if I lie. Itโ€™s pointless.

โ€œI broke up with him,โ€ I admit.

โ€œWhy didnโ€™t you tell me?โ€ Raylan growls.

โ€œI wanted you to think I was taken,โ€ I confess.

What the fuck am I doing? Why am I admitting that?

โ€œWhy?โ€ Raylan says.

I lick my lips, tasting the cool, clear river. โ€œYou scare me,โ€ I say.

Iโ€™ve never admitted to being intimidated. Iโ€™ve never admitted to being afraid, period.

โ€œThis . . . scares me,โ€ I say, gesturing between the two of us.

Raylan steps closer to me, closing the gap between us. I can almost hear his heart pounding as fast as mine. Iโ€™m sure I would hear it, if not for the noise of the running water.

โ€œI told myself I wouldnโ€™t kiss you again without your permission,โ€ he says. I swallow hard.

โ€œBut that was a stupid fucking promise,โ€ he growls. He grabs my face between his hands, and he kisses me hard, harder even than he did in the gym. His bare, burning-hot chest presses against mine. His tongue thrusts into my mouth. His beard scratches my face.

I kiss him back, my hands thrust in his thick, black hair. His hair feels hot from the sun, thick and coarse and alive like animal fur. The scent of his skin is sharp and wild.

He lifts me up and throws me on the riverbank, in the sun-warmed grass. Then he climbs on top of me and kisses me even harder, grinding his naked body against mine. I can feel his cock standing straight up now, harder than a poker.

His lips devour mine, then they run hungrily down my neck, down to my breasts. He sucks and nibbles on my nipples, making me moan and arch my back. Meanwhile heโ€™s touching between my thighs, stroking my pussy lightly at first, then a little harder as his fingers become slick and wet.

Iโ€™m soaking wet. Wetter than Iโ€™ve ever been before. It started the moment I saw him naked, and it only got worse. The river couldnโ€™t wash it away. My pussy is swollen and aching, throbbing at his touch.

I grind against his hand. Iโ€™m rabid for him. Ravenous.

He reaches up with his other hand to caress my face, and I seize his fingers between my teeth and bite them, then suck on his index and middle finger, taking them all the way into my mouth.

Iโ€™ve never behaved like this in my life.

Quite honestly, Iโ€™m a selfish lover, doing only what I personally like. I donโ€™t get down on my knees and suck menโ€™s cocksโ€”that would be degrading. I let them worship me, but I donโ€™t respond in kind.

With Raylan, I have no pride. Heโ€™s unleashed a hunger in me that I never knew before. Iโ€™m fucking wild for him. I would do anything for him right now. I want to taste him, touch him, lick him absolutely everywhere. I want him like Iโ€™ve never wanted anything before.

I want that cock. I want it inside of me right nowโ€”anywhere, anyway.

I grab Raylanโ€™s cock in my hand. Itโ€™s so thick that my fingers donโ€™t close all the way around the shaft. It feels like itโ€™s two hundred degrees of burning heat. I can feel it throbbing like a live thing.

I shimmy down in the grass so I can close my mouth over the head. Iโ€™m literally salivating. I want to taste Raylan. I need it.

I close my mouth around his cock, and I start sucking. Immediately, my mouth is flooded with thin, warm pre-cum. It tastes fucking delicious. Iโ€™m ravenously hungry from skipping breakfast and riding around all morning. That pre-cum tastes like the most satisfying thing Iโ€™ve ever had in my mouth. Itโ€™s salty and rich and it tastes like Raylanโ€™s skin and sweat. Itโ€™s like a drugโ€”the more I get, the more I want.

I attack his cock with my mouth, sliding my tongue up and down the shaft, sucking hard on the head. I use both of my hands, alternating between sucking him off, and taking his balls in my mouth while I slide my hands up and down his slippery shaft.

This is the most enthusiastic blowjob Iโ€™ve ever given. Itโ€™s the most Iโ€™ve ever enjoyed oral sex. Raylan is groaning, his hands thrust in my hair. His powerful hips are pumping toward my face, and that huge, thick head of his cock is banging against the back of my throat. Itโ€™s sloppy and wet and primal, and the fact that itโ€™s happening outdoors in a field makes it all the more animalistic.

Raylan grabs my hips and twists me around so weโ€™re facing opposite directions. Now Iโ€™m on top of him, with my pussy over his face. He pushes my thighs apart and buries his face in my cunt.

I always thought 69s were stupid. Now, for the first time, I understand the point. When youโ€™re completely lost in oral sex, you just want more, more, more. I want more of his taste and scent. And more of our bodies grinding and touching.

Raylan is eating my pussy like a ten-course dinner. Heโ€™s licking and fingering and shoving his tongue inside of me. It feels fucking fantastic. And at the same time, my mouth is full of his cock, and the taste of his pre- cum that comes in spurt after spurt, like a reward for sucking him off just the way he likes.

Sucking his cock upside down is more difficult, but the angle helps his cock slide even further down my throat. I relax my jaw and try to take as much of

it as I can. I canโ€™t bob my head up and down as much, but it doesnโ€™t matter, because heโ€™s thrusting his hips and doing a lot of the work himself.

Which is good, because I can barely concentrate. Iโ€™m lost in the insanely pleasurable sensation of his tongue lapping at my clit, and his fingers thrusting in and out of me. His fingers penetrate my pussy at the same time as his cock thrusts in my throat. Heโ€™s stimulating me orally as well as vaginally. The dual sensation is wildly intense. I never knew that a blow job could feel good for me, too. I never knew my lips and tongue could be so sensitive.

Our bodies are pressed tight together, my thighs wrapped around his face, and his cock skewering my throat. I can feel Raylan pumping even harder, getting closer to the edge.

Iโ€™m close, too. The orgasm building inside of me is totally out of my control. Iโ€™m grinding on his face, squeezing my thighs, but Raylan is the one teasing the climax out of my body. Itโ€™s his fingers rubbing on the perfect spot inside of me, and his tongue pressing against just the right place on my clit.

The pleasure is thrumming through my whole body. I can feel it pulsing down my legs and arms, all the way to my fingers and toes. My whole frame is vibrating with one, long, endless sensation.

I moan around Raylanโ€™s cock. I start crying out, my mouth still stuffed full.

Iโ€™m cumming harder than Iโ€™ve ever cum in my life, with an orgasm that twists my body in knots.

And while Iโ€™m cumming, Raylan is too, deep down in my throat. His cock is twitching and pulsing, unleashing thick white cum, a torrent of it. I usually never swallow, but right now I have no choice. His cock is shoved in too deep in my throat to pull back.

And I love it. I want him to cum as hard as Iโ€™m cumming. I want it to feel as good for him as it does for me.

I feel his thick load pulsing into my throat. Iโ€™m choking and gagging on it, and I donโ€™t give a fuck. Because Iโ€™m still cumming too, all over his tongue.

It goes on and on and on. Time stretches out. The pleasure stretches and increases and stretches again.

Then, finally, itโ€™s over.

Raylan takes his cock out of my mouth and I roll limply onto my back, bright flashes popping behind my closed eyelids.

Raylan rolls on top of me, kissing me. I can taste my pussy on his lips, and Iโ€™m sure he can taste his cum in my mouth. This is totally unsanitaryโ€” something that would disgust me usually. But I do not give one single fuck. Iโ€™m still in a state of blissful eroticism, where everything is sexy to me, and nothing seems wrong.

โ€œOh. My. Fucking. God,โ€ I moan.

โ€œIโ€™ve been wanting to do that for a long time,โ€ Raylan says.

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