Cowboy Up(95)

What we didn’t do though was worry about The Sequel. Not until six months ago, when I was entering my last month of pregnancy. I hadn’t been sure that I wanted to reopen my store, but in the end, Clayton helped me see past the sadness I’ve been associating with rebuilding. I think a little part of me hasn’t been sure I could reopen without continuously looking over my shoulder. I knew Jess and John were gone, but with so much of their evil being connected with the store, I had a hard time seeing past it.

Until Clayton.

Until my husband reminded me that we’ve got nothing but beautiful now.

It didn’t hurt that he reminded me while filling me with his cock and loving me slow.

“She’s out,” Clayton says softly, standing in front of me and startling me out of my thoughts.

I lean to the side and look around his delicious naked torso to see the blanket-covered bundle in the middle of the dark gray crib. When I straighten and blink up at Clayton, nervous flutters start to fill my belly when his smile grows.

“You got somethin’ for me?” he questions, smiling.

“Maybe,” I hedge, a nervous giggle breaking free.

He tilts his head and studies me.

“Come on, honey,” I request, placing the camera on top of Harlow’s dresser and taking his hand in mine. He follows as I pull him from our daughter’s doorway and into our room. I drop his hand when we reach the middle of our room and turn to him. My eyes roam from his chiseled chest, over his defined abs, and down his denim-covered legs to his bare feet. I take a deep breath and smile at the floor before looking up at my husband.

“Strip, handsome.”

His eyebrows shoot up, but he brings his hands to his buckle without questioning me, making quick work of shucking his pants and briefs, standing to his full height in all his naked glory.

With a wink, I reach down and pull my sundress up and over my head. My breasts bounce free, reminding me that they’ve taken on a life of their own since having Harlow. Clayton’s eyes burn as he looks down at them. He’s made it no secret that he loves the changes our daughter brought to my body—especially my breasts. Anytime they’re out, he’s licking his lips and staring, and with a breastfeeding four-month-old, they’re out often.

“On the bed.”

Silently, he walks around me, not without reaching out and grazing my thigh with his fingertips. He climbs into our bed, right in the middle, and lies down with his arms up and hands behind his head.

I climb up on the bed and shuffle my knees forward until they’re pressed against his hip. He watches me intently with his emerald gaze, his erection bobbing when my eyes look down at it. When I lick my lips, he groans.

As much as I’d love to sit here and drink him in, I need to feel him. Shifting, I climb over him, spreading my legs and sitting back on his knees. His eyes look down his body and straight between my legs, his nostrils flaring wildly. My hands go to his thighs and I start moving them, caressing him slowly while leaning forward until his cock is right at my mouth. My tongue comes out and licks him. He hisses but doesn’t move. God, I love the taste of him. Opening my mouth wide, I take him as deep as I can and lift one hand up to work his shaft while flicking the head of his dick with my tongue. I hum when I taste his salty essence, moving my other hand down and between my legs. I don’t take my eyes off his, wanting him to see the pleasure I get from using my mouth on him. I also know what he looks like when he’s about to come, and right now, as much as I love it, I want him inside me when he does.

Removing my mouth with a loud pop, I start to crawl up his body.

“I’ve been waitin’ all day to give you my bad, Clayton Davis.” I place my hands next to his head and lean down, placing my mouth close enough to his to feel his hot breath as he pants. My pussy glides against his erection, making me moan. “You’re goin’ to sit there and let me give that to you. You’re goin’ to keep your back on the bed and let me take everything. I want to feel you, so deep, Clayton.”

“Fuck yes,” he hisses.

“You gonna sit there and let me give you my bad while I love my husband?”

“Baby,” he breathes.

I lift my hips, moving one hand to his abs, the other wrapping around his thickness, moving my body until he’s kissing my entrance. I swirl the blunt tip around my wetness, moaning when he hits my clit. My head rolls while my body burns with need. Then I stop my hand and drop my hips, impaling myself on him. He shouts a deep grunt that turns into a low moan when I roll my hips again. We don’t look away from each other as I begin to move, both our mouths open. Our heavy breathing fills the room. He lets me drive as I take his body, using my legs to pull my hips up and drop down. Each time he hits that sweet spot deep inside of me, I feel myself growing wetter and wetter. I won’t last much longer.