She laughs and sassily puts her hands on her hips. “I did. I just don’t ever remember Prince Charming beating up the bad guy in the fairy tales.”
“That’s cause I’m a twenty-first century kind of prince, Squirt.”
Another sweet laugh before she hugs my thighs and heads back over to the bed with her mom. I say goodnight to the two of them, then announce I’m stealing Finley for a little bit longer, to which they both coo in unison. Finley mumbles a quick, “I’ll be back in a little bit,” with pink-stained cheeks as I guide her out of the room and up the stairs toward my bedroom.
Grandpa retired to his own room not long after we returned from bingo, not having much to say about the incident with Billy. I’m sure I’ll get an earful the next time we’re alone, but for now, I’m not worrying about it. There’s only one thing on my mind and it involves Finley, me, no clothes, and a bed. And actually, the bed isn’t even a necessity.
Once we’re both inside, I close the door behind us and lock it, not taking any chances of anyone barging in. I’ve finally got her by herself. I need this… need her… need to know if the connection we have makes things different when we’re intimate.
I turn to face her, searching her face for any hesitation, and when I find none, I lower my mouth to hers, stealing her breath as my tongue glides between her parted lips. Her hands grab ahold of my arms to steady herself, a moan vibrating in her throat which only fuels me to deepen the kiss.
“Your shirt. Off,” she mumbles, grabbing at the bottom hem of my blood-splattered T and raising it over my head.
“Sorry I can’t be of more help,” I chuckle as I hold my bandaged hands in the air, “but I think I need help out of my jeans too.”
Playfully rolling her eyes, she worries the side of her bottom lip between her teeth while unbuttoning and lowering the zipper to my pants, then pushing them down to my ankles so I can step out of them. My cock throbs behind the thin cotton of my boxers, her fingers so close, her eyes trained on my swelling shaft. I’m already so damn hard I feel like a fucking virgin touching a girl for the very first time.
I paw at her blouse and khaki shorts, frustrated I can’t take them off of her myself. “Take them off, Finley,” I urge. “I want to see you. All of you. I’m dying here.”
Without any uncertainty, she strips out of her clothes and leaves them on the floor next to mine, then smiles brilliantly up at me in her bra and panties, her quiet confidence a major fucking turn-on. “What now, bossypants?”
“The rest of it,” I order, my hungry gaze roaming up and down her curvy frame. “As much as I’d love to rip that lace from your gorgeous body with my own hands, that’s gonna have to wait until next time. Now, get naked and climb your cute little ass up in my bed. Where you belong.”
“Already so confident there’s gonna be a next time, huh?” she purrs.
A feral growl rumbles in my chest. “Naked. Bed. Now.” Damn, maybe Dimitri needs to take tips from me.
Glancing down at my now fully erect shaft, the tip pointing straight at her out of the opening in my boxers, she suggestively licks her lips as she unclasps her bra and frees her full, luscious tits, her rosy nipples already long and hard. Oh my God, she’s fucking perfect. Next, her fingers trail down to her panties and with a provocative sway of her hips, she hooks her thumbs in the see-through black material and wiggles it down to her thighs, where they then fall to the floor. Swiftly moving to the small twin bed, that at any other moment I’d be embarrassed to admit I’m currently using, she hops up on the mattress and lies down on her back, waiting anxiously for what comes next.
In two strides, I’m up on the bed with her, spreading her legs with my knees, situating myself between her toned thighs. Laid out beneath me on the blue-striped comforter with her long blonde hair fanned out on my pillow, she stares up at me with her eager blue eyes, absolutely the most breathtaking sight I've ever seen. I lower my face to hers, our mouths moving together in harmony as if they were made for each other.
Then, breaking my mouth away from hers, I leisurely drag my lips down the smooth, creamy skin of her neck to her chest. She arches her back off the mattress and mewls as I reach her boobs; my exposed fingertips tease and taunt one perky mound as my mouth engulfs the other. Licking and sucking one, rubbing and tweaking the other, I give equal treatment to both of her pebbled peaks with vigor.
"Please, Teague," she whimpers wantonly as her hips raise against my stomach and her hands push my head downwards.
Her begging my name is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, an enticing melody of passion and yearning, and I have to hold myself back from selfishly plunging inside her with one voracious thrust. Completely bared, sprawled out in front of me, prime for the taking, her supple body nearly causes me to unravel. Throughout the last decade, I've seen plenty of women naked, but never have I encountered someone as mind-blowingly erotic as the sight of Finley right now. Coming before we start would not be good.
I nibble my way down her stomach to the apex of her legs, silently cursing the lack of dexterity I have with my fingers. Positioning myself between her long legs, I press my shoulders against her inner thighs to keep them spread wide and hook my hands around her hips, then lower my mouth to her sweet spot, dipping my tongue between her smoothly shaven pink lips and grazing it across her swollen clit. From her swollen bundle of nerves to her soaked opening, I work my way up and down, down and up, making her moan and squirm as my cock strains against the sheets.
I grip her hips harder, ignoring the raw pain hammering from fingertip to wrist, as my mouth trails over her heated core, my tongue tracing lazy circles over her delicate nub. She grinds her mound against me to increase the pressure, and I know she’s closing in on her release.
“So damn sweet,” I murmur while glancing up the length of her body and watching as she palms her tits and flicks her thumb back and forth over her taut nipples.
Her eyes meet mine, an impish smirk curling up one side of her mouth. “Better than strawberries?”
A hoarse chuckle rolls in the back of my throat. “So much better than strawberries, babe.”
I capture her clit between my lips and suck hard, eliciting a cry of pleasure from her that reverberates through my cock. Closing my mouth over her sex, I skim and swirl and suck, thrusting my tongue into her drenched slit until she’s a writhing, pleading mess. Bowing her back up off the bed, Finley’s hands fly down to the top of my head and fist my hair, pushing my face harder against her pussy as she shamelessly explodes on my mouth and cries out my name. I don’t let up with my ministrations while she comes undone underneath me, lapping up her sweet cream as her body quakes wild and uncontrollably.
Fuck me, this is so much better than I ever imagined, and I’m not even inside her yet. For nearly a month now, I’ve fantasized about her, almost to the point of unhealthy obsession. And now she’s here. In my bed. Beneath me. Clinging to me. All fucking around me. It’s still not enough.
"More," she breathes, chest still heaving, legs still trembling. “Don’t want this dream to end."
“Nowhere close to ending, babe,” I assure her as I move back up her body, claiming her mouth with mine once more. “We’re only just getting started.”
Finley
HOLY MOTHER OF all things perfect. I’m not sure what kind of miracle Teague just performed with his mouth, but I’m indebted to whoever blessed him with that talent. I’ve never come that hard before in my life, especially not from someone going down on me. But it’s still not enough.
“Inside. I need you inside me, Teague,” I whisper against his wet lips, coated with my juices, as his rock-hard shaft pokes me below my belly button.
“I need that too, babe. More than you know.” He stretches over to the nightstand next to the small bed and pulls a condom from the drawer, then tosses it at me with a heart-stopping grin. “Gonna need your help with that though. Hop up so I can watch you ride me, gorgeous.”
Quickly scrambling off the bed in order for hi
m to lie down, I rip open the foil packet as I climb back on the mattress and straddle his thighs, then smoothly roll the protection down his huge cock that seems to grow even bigger with every passing minute. I lean toward him and press my lips to the base of his throat, kissing and nipping a path up to his jaw.
I can’t believe this is actually happening. My Mr. Sexy Eyes is naked, hard, and ready, staring at me like I hung the moon that’s shining outside the bedroom window, bathing both of our naked bodies in its soft, shimmering glow. Lifting up slightly on my knees, I circle my fingers around the base of his cock, guiding it to my aching center.
“Oh my God,” I groan as I gradually lower myself onto him, the overwhelming sensation of euphoria buzzing through my veins.
With our hungry gazes fixed on each other, I grab ahold of his shoulders as he fills me inch by splendid inch, my heart thumping out a rhythmic sensual beat while my body stretches to accommodate his massive size. I watch the ecstasy wash over his face as our bodies meld together for the first time, and I'm entranced by the deep, penetrating fever locked in his hooded eyes. Once he’s fully submerged inside me, I bend forward and trail my tongue around his lips, moaning as I taste my arousal still lingering on his mouth.
“Fuck, Finley, you feel…” He doesn’t finish the thought, instead cupping his bandaged hands on either side of my face and claiming my lips again. Our tongues dance together as his hips lift to meet my up-and-down movements, and every time he thrusts into me, I brazenly grind down so that my clit drags against the base of his cock. Mesmerized by the electrically-charged connection between us, the passion and intensity, I feel greedy, wanting more and more of him.
Our mouths stay linked together as I rock against him, the pace and friction progressively escalating. His hands drop from my face to my hips as our lips break apart and he leaves a trail of kisses across my cheek to my ear. With the blazing heat of his mouth against my skin, he drives up into me with such a fervent tempo, my second orgasm builds swiftly.
Shutting my eyes, I frame his face in my hands and groan at the sheer force of his thrusts. The bed squeaks beneath us, the sounds of our grunts and labored breathing filling the room. His impressive strength and control encompasses me — takes me hostage, silently demanding my submission.
“I'm so close again, Teague. Please don't stop… fuck me harder. Take it from me," I urge in a guttural moan.
The words tumbling out of my mouth surprise me, uncharacteristic of my normal quiet bedroom conduct, but the way his eyes flicker a white hot flame each time I talk, I feel a jolt of desire blaze in my core.
"That’s perfect, babe. Give me that come," he groans, tangling his tongue with mine as we sprint together toward the edge of our release.
He tears his mouth from mine and grabs my hips the best he can as I impale my body on his pulsating shaft. I lose myself in the moment, forgetting about everyone and everything outside this room, and ride him like a porn star. Even I’m impressed with my performance. His thrusts are unrelenting, so fast and furious I know I’ll have problems sitting tomorrow.
It’s no time at all before I reach the crest of my climax, losing complete control as Teague pumps in and out of me. I bury my face in his shoulder and sink my teeth into the smooth flesh as I ride out the blissful free fall. Within seconds of my orgasm, my walls still clamping down and quivering on him, Teague stiffens under me as he clutches my hips in a death grip, drubbing out three last drives and joining me in my rapturous haze.
Panting and puffing, mind and muscles liquefied, we cling to each other’s sweat-slicked bodies, neither of us able to move or talk. So this is what it’s supposed to be like, eh?
“Is that a Transformers sticker?” I giggle, my vision finally clearing and focusing in on the shiny square stuck on the bottom corner of the mirror hanging over his dresser.
He barks out a laugh that vibrates through my entire body, a foreign warmth remaining in its wake. “Yeah, this room hasn’t changed much since I was a kid. I’m not sure why I didn’t do anything in here when I updated the house for Grandpa a few years ago.”
I prop myself up on my elbows, raised enough to look in his glazed eyes. “Maybe because you had good memories growing up in here and didn’t want to get rid of them?”
Lifting up, he rubs the tip of his nose against mine before he places a tender kiss on my lips. “Maybe I won’t ever be changing it now after the memory we just made. I think that was my first El Fresco kiss in here,” he teases as he rolls us to our sides, pulling out of me.
I whimper at the loss of him, waiting not so patiently for him to struggle with his bound fingers to remove the condom, tie it up, and throw it in the trashcan. When he returns to the bed, he snuggles my body flush up against his, the only way we can both fit on the narrow mattress, and I sigh contently. I guess some dreams really do come true.
We lay quietly together, our hearts beating in unison, each lost in our own thoughts. The events from earlier in the night drift through my mind, and I hate that I didn’t offer him the money — his share of the lottery winnings — as I’d previously planned to earlier today, but the moment never felt right, and I fell under the lust-stricken spell of all that is Teague Goodman.
I haven’t asked him about the things that asshole he called Bingham alluded to outside the bingo place, but since he didn’t necessarily deny the guy’s claims about his business doing so poorly that he’s had to put up some of his land for sale, I’m assuming it’s true. The two of them obviously have a history that goes way deeper than whatever occurred tonight, but that’s irrelevant to his need for my help. And I want to help… after all, the money is rightfully his, at least in my opinion.
Wanting to approach the topic sensitively, I pepper soft kisses along his chest as my fingers lightly skim random patterns around his defined abs. “How do your hands feel?”
“Still have too much adrenaline pumping to feel them,” he replies, twirling strands of my hair around the exposed portion of his fingertips. “I’m sure they’ll be sore tomorrow, but it was well worth it. That was an ass-kicking several decades in the making.”
“Who is he? Why do y’all have a thing?” I prod.
Teague sighs, pausing a few seconds before answering, probably deciding how much he wants to disclose to me and curious where I’m headed with the questioning. “Name’s Billy Bingham, and ever since we were kids, he and his brother used to bully me, making fun because I didn’t have parents and my grandparents were poor. He comes from generations of money, his family’s been in the cattle farming business forever, and the whole lot of them think they’re hot shit in this little town.”
“That’s why you left Dyersville?”
“I left for college, because I didn’t want to be a poor farmer for the rest of my life.” His hands glide down to my back, skimming across my shoulder blades. “Got a full ride to Iowa State, studied business there, and right before I graduated, I developed this farming app that somehow just blew up. Before I knew it, I had millions upon millions of subscribers and agriculture companies bombarding me for ad space, and overnight, I was the hottest name in the farming world. It was a crazy swing, college kid to multi-millionaire, but I managed to keep a somewhat level head and ended up investing the money in more acreage to add to Grandpa’s farm. At the time, the corn and soybean markets were booming, and it was like everything I touched turned to gold.”
I nod, understanding what he means about the overwhelming change in lifestyle overnight. “But now it’s not? And you’re having to sell land to your childhood arch nemesis?”
His body turns rigid under my touch and he stops stroking my back. A cool tension seeps in between where our bodies meet, replacing the previous comfortable warmth. “I didn’t know until then he was the one buying it. Just found out this morning I had a full price offer, and I didn’t bother asking the agent who the purchaser was,” he grunts as he attempts to shift away from me, but I hold tight.
“How much does eight thousand acres
of farmland sell for?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds a lot calmer than the pulse pumping feverishly in my neck.
Pushing up to sitting so he can peer down at me, Teague furrows his brows together and scowls. “What are you getting at, Finley? Why all the questions about my company?”
Suddenly freezing, I reach down and grab the comforter and pull it up to cover my naked body as I shrug my shoulders casually. My mouth dries out and I feel like a child whose been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, although I haven’t done anything wrong.
“Well, I mean, I was actually gonna talk to you earlier today, but I didn’t get a chance,” I stall nervously.
“Talk to me about what? Just spit it out,” he demands.
I swallow hard, then courageously lift my gaze to meet his aggravated one as I blurt out, “Part of the reason I came out here to see you was to give you half of the lottery winnings. Even before I knew why you left me the lottery ticket and disappeared, or any of this about you selling land obviously, I wanted to split it with you, felt like I owed it to you. But I didn’t know who you were or how to find you. I kept hoping you’d see me on TV and contact my lawyer so that I could thank you and offer you your share, but you never came forward.”
“Just stop… stop talking,” he commands angrily, hurrying off the bed and over to where his clothes are piled on the floor. “I’m not taking your fucking money. Don’t be stupid.”
“Stupid?! Excuse me, I may not be a fancy-schmancy farmer CEO with a college degree, but I’m far from stupid,” I hiss, my own temper flaring as I glower at him while he struggles to put his boxers on. I ignore the instinctive urge I have to get up and help him.
He eventually manages to get his underwear up over his hips, the elastic waistband popping into place, then stalks over to the dresser and pulls a clean white T-shirt out of a drawer. I get that he’s touchy about whatever is going on with his company; I doubt a man like him ever likes to admit setback or defeat. But his defensiveness is a slap in the face, especially after what we just shared. Way to make a girl feel like shit, jerkface.