She nodded, but her throat went tight and she realized she couldn’t lie to him. She shook her head, wet her lips, and then finally blurted out, “Did you have sex with Miranda?”
Jacob blinked, confused. “What?”
“Just answer the question!” Even she was surprised by the vulnerability that cracked in her voice.
“No! No, I haven’t.”
“Do you want to?”
“Hey,” Jacob grabbed her and took her face, holding her in to look at him. “Look at me. The second I married you, I stopped looking at any other woman.”
“Bullsh—”
“I mean that!” he snapped.
He was vibrant; there was a harsh line in the turn of his mouth. There was anger there, the stubborn rage of someone who loved too hard. Holly caught her breath, residual jealousy still hammering against her chest, and then—
Grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.
He let out a muffled noise against her mouth and leaned in to deepen the kiss. Holly held on to him tightly, her fingers curling into his hair. She was hungry for him suddenly, ravenous, and she wanted him. All of him. Everything he had to give her. Every inch, every gasp, every moan—she wanted it. She hugged him tightly to her, her hands laced around the back of his head, and she murmured heatedly against his mouth, “Mark me.”
His breath was already ragged; she could feel the hard bulge in his pants brush against her thigh. “Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded. Her fingers tightened in his hair. “I’m ready.” She nuzzled her face against his. “Please.”
She could practically taste how much he wanted this. Yet, still, he took his time. “I want you to enjoy this too,” he murmured and reached under her dress to peel her panties down her legs.
They were on the back porch of a rodeo bar and this was dirty, so dirty, and even now when his eyes connected with hers she felt her heart pick up an extra beat. He could romance her anywhere with those eyes, that penetrating stare that just made her want to get penetrated. Holly wet her lips and already felt her pussy get puffy and damp.
Before Jacob, she had only ever had sex in a bed. Now, she was having sex in public, for the second time. This felt different, though. The first time in his barn, she’d felt like a wide-eyed doe, swept up in his passion and longing. Now, she felt like a lioness. She wanted to claim him in public, where others could see, so everyone (and Miranda) would know that he belonged to her.
His lips bruised hers, his desperation leaking through, and she heard his belt click open, his pants shuffle down. As their tongues clashed, his body pressed flush against hers and then she felt him ease inside her, slowly. Holly gasped, her hand on his arm as though gripping for dear life, curling against him. He filled her deliciously and she only had to rotate her hips around a little to adjust to his size now.
Holly was trapped between the hard wall and her strong husband and she didn’t want a way out. She hooked her leg around his hip as he thrust in her with languid, powerful strokes, each one igniting her nerves from the tips of her toes to the flush of her cheeks. She gasped with every swing of his hips and held him tighter, burrowing into his shoulder as she listened to him grunt and groan with pleasure.
His hand found bare skin under her dress as he held the round curve of her ass, keeping her in place, and she wanted to melt into his touch, his thrusts, his lips. She became something pliable but wild, his. And her fingers curled in, nails biting the back of his neck to remind him that he was hers as well.
He kissed her ferociously. They were sloppy now, spinning, slipping out of control, moving as one squirming, moaning mass of gasps and kisses. He grabbed her by her ginger hair suddenly, confining her to his strong hold, and she whimpered as he held her head back.
The coil of tension in her core vibrated as his thrusts picked up pace and she knew she was close. The music thumped inside, her back hit the wall again and again, and she felt everything in her tighten around him as she rode that edge.
Just then, his lips brushed against her throat, and then she felt teeth. Holly tensed and cried out when she felt him bite in, sinking his teeth into her throat with a growl. There was a short burst of pain, and then—
Holly was swooning. Lost in the grip of her man’s mouth, like a kitten held by the scruff. She felt close to him, incredibly close, as though their hearts had reached out to touch one other. She moaned, felt an immense wave of pleasure sweep through her, and then opened her eyes.
And there was Miranda. Standing at the end of the porch, stunned motionless as her eyes locked on the pair. There was an edge of anger in her eyes. Gold flecks shimmered there.
Jacob was too lost in Holly to notice, apparently. He just moaned against her as her body jerked with his animal thrusts. Instead of pulling back, Holly tightened her grip. She grabbed the hair on the back of his neck and nuzzled against Jacob, though her eyes didn’t leave Miranda’s. This is mine. You can’t have him.