She’d never suffered from allergies as a kid, nor as an adult, and she’d gone through the various allergy tests along with Hayden, mostly to allay his fears that the tests didn’t hurt. Her tests had come out negative. Since sinus infections were a recurring problem, Dr. Monroe suggested the dry air and higher elevation wreaked havoc on her sinuses because the infections surfaced after she’d relocated to Wyoming.
Ginger called DeWitt’s Pharmacy and ordered the two-week cycle of antibiotics Doc Monroe had left on file for her. She was so damn tired. She wanted to go home and crawl in bed. Heck, she’d felt so out of it today she’d sent Kane a text message canceling their lunch date.
Kane McKay. Lord, that man had turned her into a stick of dy***ite—one smoldering look or one heated touch from him and that fuse fired. She’d spent the week in a sexual daze. When she wasn’t in the throes of experiencing the combustible, amazingly hot sex, she was thinking about it. Constantly. After he’d confiscated her vibrator, she’d wondered how Kane would kick up the sexual scenarios the following week.
Woo-boy. Kick them up he had.
Monday’s lunch menu consisted of an appetizer of sixty-nine, a position she’d rarely enjoyed until Kane showed her the delicious benefits of mutual pleasure. She’d barely caught her breath from her orgasm while his c**k was buried in her mouth, when he flipped her over and f**ked her from behind. He’d kept one hand gripped in her hair, holding her head in place, and the other hand curled around her hip, ordering her to rub her clit until she came. His sexual aggressiveness allowed her to unlock a side of herself she’d been too tired, too afraid to access. Kane didn’t exploit that compliant part of her; he used it to take her—them—to new sexual heights.
Although they hadn’t been scheduled for a lunch date on Tuesday, Ginger had been so…frantic to experience the feelings of sexual empowerment he’d aroused in her, that she’d driven out to his place and surprised him in the barn. She’d dropped to her knees, willing—eager even—for him to take her mouth without any thought to her pleasure, only to his own. Kane had been a little rough, but she’d loved it.
Loved that he trusted her with a side of himself that was more animal than man.
And after he’d roared his climax loud enough to spook the horses, he’d taken her into the cab of his pickup. While the heater warmed the frigid winter air, and country tunes drifted from the radio, Kane slowly, thoroughly made love to her. Face to face, as she straddled his lap. He’d worshipped her br**sts, knowing how wild it made her, whispering erotic, raunchy words in her ear, across her skin. He coaxed two orgasms from her before he’d allowed another one for himself. As she’d pulled back onto the highway, headed for town, he leaned against his pickup door, snow swirling around him, watching her go with a big smile on his face.
Wednesday, she’d marked off two hours for lunch. Kane was already in her bedroom, already naked, a rope dangling between his fingers. The spike of uncertainty increased when she’d noticed the bottle of lube on the bed.
When she saw his wicked, wicked grin, she actually turned and ran out of the room.
He chased her. His laugh resembled a pleased growl of intent. When he caught her, Ginger gave herself over to him entirely.
Kane stripped her, bound her wrists behind her back with the rope, and centered her on her bed. Then he kissed her everywhere. The sensation of his firm lips, wet tongue and the scrape of his facial hair was mind-boggling. Every single inch of her skin was subjected to Kane’s questing mouth. Her first orgasm, courtesy of his tongue flicking her clit, hit her from out of left field. The second orgasm built with each drive of his c**k into her pu**y until they’d sailed over the edge of the abyss together, silent besides their labored breaths, body plastered to body by sweat.
Without the use of her hands, Ginger was entirely at Kane’s mercy. She missed touching him, mapping those work-defined muscles with her fingertips. Digging her nails into his ass as he pumped into her. Because she was bound, he took extra care to ensure her comfort. He verbally admired the way the position straightened her shoulders, thrust out her tits, and showcased her toned arms. He smoothed and petted her, murmuring erotic words that would’ve been enough to keep her primed.
Then he’d cracked open the container of lube and said, “This sweet, sweet ass is mine today.” He’d kissed her while he’d prepared her, gently, but she didn’t suspect that would last long. Kane’s eyes had darkened with feral intensity. His movements were quick. Sure. Demanding. Impatient.
When Kane determined she was ready, he hiked her hips up. He gripped the backs of her thighs, spreading her legs wide, leaving her balanced on her bound arms and shoulders. The slick head of his c**k prodded the puckered entrance. Once. Twice. On the third jab, the thick crown popped past the rigid ring of muscle and he pushed his c**k into her anal passage to the hilt.
Ginger wasn’t a virgin to anal sex, but that first stroke hurt. She bit her lip and held her breath, hoping the pain would ease and give way to that hazy feeling of floating.
Kane’s focus wasn’t on her, and strangely that didn’t bother her—rather, it turned her on. The visual of his c**k balls-deep in her ass must’ve been an erotic sight; he couldn’t tear his focus away from where they were intimately joined. He pulled back, coming completely out of her ass, the tiny hole rippled open again as his entire shaft slid in. And back out. And in again. Harder. Faster. Deeper. And as Kane f**ked her ass, she felt a thrilling sense of his possession. No other man had touched her the way he had, physically, emotionally.
The knowledge freed her. The bite of pain as his hard length scraped her delicate tissues became an exquisite ache—a welcome ache. She countered his thrusts, meeting his urgency. His need. Silently encouraging him to take.
His climax rolled through them both, his hot ejaculate burst against her inner anal walls. As soon as his dick softened, he eased out. He scooted down the mattress and circled his lips around her clit, suckling strongly until she came against his mouth.
There hadn’t been much to say after that. He’d unwound the rope from her arms, rubbing until the circulation returned, kissing her shoulders, nuzzling her nape, brushing her ni**les across his forearm. He understood the rasp of his body hair on the tips was almost an orgasmic experience itself.
They’d kept the silence as they’d dressed, even after he’d kissed her with a lover’s surety and a whispered goodbye. She listened as his truck roared off, with her forehead pressed into the doorframe, completely undone.