Chapter 27
“Yes!” I cry, flexing my sphincter to try and draw him in. “God, yes, yes, yes.”
There’s a bitter sting when the first finger enters me—I draw up on my toes, then force myself to rock back and sit into his palm. The burn eases as he works at my ass, relaxing the tight skin, readying me for his dick. There’s less pain when the second finger enters, and the fullness takes my breath away. He rubs my back as I fuck his other hand, gasping at the sensations flooding my body. Nothing I’ve ever done to myself has felt this good. “Yes!”
When he pulls free, I feel too loose, empty, but only for a moment. Then the knob of his fat dick is pushing at me, rubbing its way inside. I cry out, a litany of words I string together with no meaning at all, fuckand yesand ay yi yi, ay si, Delfino, God, please. That’s the brunt of it, please—harder, faster, deeper, more, as far in as he can get, pleasedon’t stop, don’t ever fucking stop.
Don’t stop fucking, ever, please
His movements are nothing like Hank’s. He drives into me once hard, pushing his body into mine, melding us together in the heat and the dark and the stillness of the barn. Then he runs his hands up my sides, across my back and chest, down to my cock to stroke it as he moves within me. His hips move from side to side, little hard thrusts that keep his dick deep within me, keep me stimulated to the point of distraction. I feel his body right against mine, his closeness like a shotgun in the dark, aimed my way. His fingers squeeze my trigger as he pushes into me little by little, exquisite little fucks like a string of pearls rubbed against my prostate. He never pulls out, never lets up. At my crotch, his hand jerks me off as he thrusts into me with a steady pace. Nothing fast and furious, nothing selfish, nothing at all like what I expected. He keeps a hand on my cock at all times, bringing me along with him on this ride, until the moment his seed spurts deep within the center of my being, and triggers in me a second orgasm more powerful than the first.
Sweet Jesus, I’m in love.
* * * *
When it’s over, he stands so close to me as we straighten out our clothes. His hips bump mine, his elbows nudge me, and when he looks my way, the slow smile spreading across his face ignites his eyes like twin pools of oil smoldering in the hot summer sun. “I feel like I should pay you,” he says, buttoning his jeans.
“It was worth it to me.” I lean back against the side of the stall, the mare nickering behind me. I don’t yet trust my legs to support my weight. My whole body feels like a fired gun, hollow but ready to be reloaded and fired again. At four dollars a fuck, though, I don’t expect to get another one again any time soon. I could run through my life savings for this man, I know, my dream of a ranch of my own one day dissolving in a haze of sex and smoke.
Delfino places a hand beside me on the stall as I’m rebuttoning my shirt. I glance up at him, into a hard stare I can’t quite interpret. Before I can say anything, he leans in close, catching my chin with gentle fingers to hold me steady. His eyes slip shut as he comes closer and I stare, wide-eyed, breathless, waiting, until those pouting lips touch mine.
The kiss is softer than I had thought possible, his touch tender. His tongue licks into me like a tentative explorer stumbling upon unchartered territory for the first time. He doestaste like my juices, but beneath the heavy flavor is one all his own. I rub my tongue alongside his and give into the kiss. When he finally pulls back, my tongue follows his out between my lips to lick his saltiness away.
“What was that for?” I ask with a sigh.
Delfino shrugs but doesn’t move away—he’s still so damn close. I want him to take me in his arms, hold me tight, but that might be pushing it. “You’re not like the others, ese,” he says softly. “I thought you just wanted a piece of ass because you’d seen Mr. Hank getting some.”
I feel my cheeks start to burn. He has me pegged, all right. That’s exactly what I’d wanted, at first. “Well…”
“But you want me,” Delfino continues. “If I didn’t follow Mr. Hank into the barn, he’d ask someone else, one of the other vaquerosor maybe the cook’s boy, someone. He doesn’t care as long as he gets off. Once he’s married, he’ll get enough at home not to come sniffing around here for it any more.”
I look down at my boots as I scruff them in the sawdust. “I can’t afford to do this often,” I admit. “God, if I were as rich as Mr. Swanson, I’d have you in my bed every night. But four bucks is almost half my pay.”
His hand releases my chin and drops to rest on my chest, warm, welcome. “Way I figure it, tonight was only really worth about a dollar or so. I mean, I had you, not the other way around. So you still have some credit, if you want to do it again…”
As his voice trails off, I look up into his face, not daring to believe my ears. “That isn’t fair,” I say, praying he isn’t just saying shit to get my hopes up. “We agreed on four bucks—”
“But we didn’t agree how much that gets you,” he points out. His hand trails down my abdomen to rest on the buckle of my belt. “If you reallywant to do this again—”
“Oh, God, I do,” I gush. I can’t help it; my whole body yearns for this man. He’s right, it wasn’t just the sex. It was him.