An Erotic Twist on a Fairy Tale
Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
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When Maleen King’s father catches her naked in the hay loft with her high school sweetheart, he sends the eighteen-year-old away to receive a college education and rise above the humble beginnings of an Idaho dairy farm. Now fourteen years later, Mal comes home to run the farm after the death of her father. The stress of a disastrous marriage and being a NYC stock broker made her long to return to a simple life.
Braydon Daniels, devastated when Mal’s father sent her thousands of miles away, has thought about her every day since. Now, over a decade later, he finds himself alone, divorced, and beaten down by the trauma of his broken marriage. When Mal comes back to town for her father’s funeral, he realizes the feelings he once had for her are just as strong. There’s one little snag, though. His ex-wife is the woman Mal has hated her whole life. And they have a child together.
Despite the struggle to recover from their past relationships, the undeniable attraction between them still exists. Can they rekindle the passion they once had?
After emptying the contents of his glass, he reached for hers, setting it on the floor. He slid his hand along her jawline and into her hair, encouraging her closer. She didn’t fight him and her mouth parted slightly, the scent of cola and whiskey on her breath.
Licking along her bottom lip, he tasted the sweetness, before sucking it in between his teeth, nibbling gently, and with a final soft nip, he sealed their mouths together, deepening the kiss.
Last night he simply wanted to hold her, but she had wanted more. Tonight, he was the one asking for more. He wanted everything.
“I need to be inside you, Princess,” he murmured against her succulent lips. “I need to be a part of you.”
She moaned, the sound making his cock swell. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. I want you too.”
His erection impatiently pressed against his jeans, ready to dive deep into her wet heat once again. But this was more than sex. More than a fuck. He wanted to make love to her, feel the connection they had last night. Hell, fourteen years ago.
“Take me to bed,” came her husky answer.
She didn’t have to ask twice. He stood, pulled her into his arms, and then threw her over his shoulder. She squealed and laughed as he hauled her across the room and tossed her on the bed. She landed dead center, bouncing a couple times before stretching sexily before him.
“This is a lot softer than a pile of hay or the floor.”
“Only the best for you, Princess,” he teased.
She released a throaty laugh, one that turned him on from his head to his toes. He ripped off his clothes and within seconds, stood at the end of the bed, naked as the day he was born.
“Where’s your hat, Cow-Boy?”
He lifted a wait-a-minute finger and he grabbed an old, worn cowboy hat out of the only closet in the place. The same one he wore back in the day. He smacked it against his bare thigh and then placed it on his head, tipping it down as he stalked back over to the bed.
“That’s my Cow-Boy,” she whispered. She sat up and pulled the tight V-neck sweater she wore over her head. She whipped it at him and it landed softly at his feet.
With a sensual smile, he leaned over the foot of the bed to tug her old cowboy boots off, and then watched as she lifted her hips and shoved her jeans down her thighs. He grabbed the bottoms of her pant legs, helping to get rid of the offending denim. And then she laid there in matching blood-red lacy panties and bra. The color went perfect with the dark brown of her hair and her lightly tanned skin. He could stare at her forever. But his cock disagreed.
He fisted himself, his gaze sweeping down her body. From her long hair spread out around her head, to the delicate length of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the swell of her breasts peeking out from her bra, the soft roundness of her belly, her narrow waist widening into those luscious hips. Her legs were long and lean, like a runner’s.
“You just gonna look and not touch, Cow-Boy?”
“No, ma’am,” he groaned, his accent strong. He climbed onto the end of the bed, and onto his knees to move up her body until he straddled her thighs.
“Save a horse. Ride a cowboy,” she said with a big smile.
Bray thickened the twang in his accent. He put a finger to the brim of his hat and tipped his head. “Happy to oblige, Princess.”
He pulled the cups of her bra down, letting the soft, smooth flesh spill over. He released a soft whistle as he took in the sight of all her lusciousness, before sucking one pink nipple into his mouth, savoring the taste and texture of her skin. Twisting the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he pinched it hard, making her gasp.
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” He worked his mouth and his fingers until her back arched away from the bed and she cried out. “You don’t know what that does to me.” His painfully hard cock twitched along her thigh, leaking precum.
And before he could wish it, she had him in her palm, stroking him up and down, spreading the silky drop around the head of his cock with her thumb. His balls tightened and he thrust into her hand. Only a little.
He nibbled along the curves of her breasts before reaching beneath her to unclasp her bra. With her help, he had it off and away, giving him a view of her full breasts that he wanted to smother his face in.
Fuck it. He did it, burying himself between the soft mounds. He nuzzled her, murmuring everything he wanted to do to her against her heated skin.
She answered with yesses, aahs, and mmms. Music to his ears. She opened herself to him. He worked his tongue, his lips, his teeth over her belly, to each hip. His movement dislodge him from her palm, so he slid in between her warm thighs, his fingers finding the top of her panties.
He wanted them off.
And he wanted them off now.
He yanked them down, not missing how damp they were. The sight encouraged him all the more to get them off her immediately. With a wiggle here and a wiggle there, they were flying across the room. He placed her feet on his shoulders and pushed until her knees were bent and pressing against her own chest.
He paused to appreciate what was being offered, the beauty before him. Her plump folds were flushed, her center damp. Her aroused scent filled his nostrils and he released a strangled groan. With two fingers, he separated her, and then, unable to wait any longer, tasted. Sweet, delicious, silky. He ran his tongue between her folds, until finally pausing on her clit. He sucked the sensitive button hard, sliding two fingers into her, curving them, searching for her hidden spot. And when he found it, he stroked her into a frenzy, her hips jerking against the bed, against his mouth. She cried out, digging her fingers into his hair, throwing the cowboy hat to the side. She ripped at his hair, his scalp, crying for mercy. Giving her none, he fucked her harder with his slick fingers, sucked her swollen nub roughly with his mouth. He was relentless. He burrowed in deeper, refusing to stop until she came. She thrashed against him, painfully yanking on his hair.
Then her body stiffened. Her toes curled against his shoulders. Her hips shot up, dislodging him, and she screamed. She stilled, panting, her eyes squeezed shut. And after a moment she lowered her hips back to the mattress, released what remained of his hair, and she opened her eyes, staring blindly at the ceiling.
He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and crawled up until he looked down into her face. Bray’s lips slowly widened into a smile.
JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only 13 started writing when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.
She has a few new releases coming up in 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter here.