Cowboy Crushin' (Dalton Boys Book 3) by Em Petrova Page B

trapped beneath him, and his body came alive.
    “Witt,” she gasped.
    He licked a path around her ear and down her throat. Her skin prickled in the wake of his passion. He tongued the depression above her collarbone and continued down to the slope of her breast.
    She tore off his hat and threw it. He rumbled a laugh until she twisted his hair in her fingers. Sobered and as hard as stone, he rocked his erection into the V between her thighs.
    She issued a moan that dug deep into his psyche. He lost it.
    He clamped his fingers around her distended nipple and lightly squeezed. She arched into his touch. He teased her nipple into a sharper peak while she worked at his shirt buttons.
    “I want to feel your skin against mine,” she breathed.
    He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “I won’t claim you until I know where your heart is.”
    She nodded. “Okay. I just…please, Witt.”
    He didn’t need more urging. He tugged her top off and popped her round breasts free of her bra cups. Her nipples strained.
    Fighting a roar of need, he rose onto his knees and stripped off his shirt. She sank her nails into his spine and drew him back down, her kisses wild.
    The first brush of her scorching hot breasts against his chest sent him into a tornado of want. His head spun and his cock ached. He bathed her throat and the tops of her breasts in kisses. Then he drew one bunched nipple into his mouth.
    She stopped breathing as he swirled it with his tongue, learning which way to give her maximum pleasure. Pressure built in his groin and their hips smacked together.
    He grazed his teeth over her nipple until she writhed.
    “So good so good so good,” she chanted.
    “Mmmm,” he vibrated her sensitive bud. Then he trailed his tongue between her breasts down to her stomach. A few silvery stripes stood out on her skin—stretch marks from having Alex. But they only made her more beautiful to him.
    As he pressed kisses to each one, she guided his head. When his lips brushed the waist of her jeans, he stopped dead, his breath rough and his cock weeping pre-come. “I want to taste you so damn bad, woman.” He stared up her body into her eyes. “But not yet.”
    “Witt.”
    He plucked at her button and it popped open. Every grating tug of the zipper sent electric desire through his system. He snaked a finger into the opening he’d created and ran it over the silk of her panties.
    She sucked in a harsh breath. God, she was stunning, eyes glassy, lips swollen from his kisses.
    “Let me touch you. I want to make you burn for me.”

    His voice was a rough stroke to her senses. How had she gotten out here under this huge open Texas sky, lying under the most glorious man she’d ever seen? Her panties were soaked and her pussy squeezed as if beckoning him to touch her.
    The cooler air dried his kisses onto her skin, making him part of her. She wanted this bad—wanted him. What would happen in the morning though?
    He pressed a soft kiss to her belly right above her mound. Need spiked.
    “Yes.” She didn’t even care that she sounded as if she were begging.
    He dragged her jeans down, towing her panties with them. Grass prickled her backside but she ignored it when he slid a finger up the wetness of her pussy. Her folds split for him, and they shared a loud groan.
    “You’re soaking wet.”
    “Uhhh.” Coherent speech was beyond her. All she could focus on was his burning touch on her clit. He circled it with crazy slowness then pinned it with a fingertip, grinding her aching flesh into her body.
    She let her knees fall apart, still hampered too much by her clothes. She threw her head back and reveled in every mind-altering stroke of his finger. He toggled her stiff flesh back and forth then moved down to her opening. With his finger poised at her entrance, her mind floated far, far away.
    All she wanted was to feel him moving within her, to know his every hard inch.
    To have Witt.
    He speared her with one long finger. She cried