I press myself down, inch by inch, straining. He moves his hand to the base of his cock, and when I fully impale myself, his thumb waits for my clit. So full. Too full. Except that I rock forward, his thumb’s there. It feels good enough that I do it again. And again.
My lids lower. “Can you come like this?”
“I don’t fucking care,” he grits out, watching me rock above him.
And I realize he’s telling the truth. This is a man who gets turned on from watching me come. He genuinely wants this to feel good for me, because that’s what gets him off. That releases the valve of worry and doubt until I can finally let loose. I rock and rock against his thumb, closing my eyes to the ecstasy, unabashed in my nakedness, until I come in hard, blinding spasms.
He roars from underneath me, grasping my hips, clasping me hard enough to leave marks, his cock pulsing inside me, holding tight, extending my orgasm as he rides through his own.
Chapter Sixteen
Ashleigh
We spend three days and three nights in this strange cocoon of sex and affection. The most surprising part is how much I find myself sharing. Not about Daddy. That part’s still too raw. I tell him about Mama and how close we were.
“She had such big dreams for me. She used to say—you can be anything. An astronaut or a race car driver. The President of the United States. And I’d say, I want to be a doctor. There was no doubt in her voice at all. Then that’s what you’ll be, she said.”
“You can still do that,” he murmurs, stroking my hair.
I nuzzle against his chest, feeling unaccountably safe. We’re from different worlds. He owns this ranch and a truck. There are mentions of a business with buildings and investments. I own what I can carry, and whatever dead animals Sugar brings me. “I might as well imagine being an astronaut. Or the President. It’s never going to happen.”
“It can,” he insists. “You don’t have to know how your dreams will happen to believe in them.”
“No one wants their doctor to be a prostitute.”
“It’s none of their goddamn business. You’re not the only person who’s fallen on hard times. Maybe your family doctor survived the only way they could. It’s not something they advertise on the door of their clinic.”
It’s hard to imagine that Dr. Lim ever fell on hard times. But I wouldn’t know, would I? Maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t have to know how the dreams will come true. It’s enough to believe.
On the fourth morning he takes me out to the stables to meet the horses. Stormy and Lickety Split and Mischief—“be careful, she bites.” We get to the last stall, where a placid-looking mare stares at me from between a heavy fall of straw-colored bangs.
“Her name’s Haven. Calm and steady.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“You’re going to ride her.”
I take a step back. “Oh no I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“That seems like something that’s going to take…” Longer than we have. How many days are we going to live in this cocoon? It reminds me of what the man said at the wedding reception. The girlfriend experience. That must be what we’re having right now. “Too long.”
“It’ll take the right amount of time. There’s no rush.”
I glare at him. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to ride a horse?”
“No,” he says equably. “Everyone wants to ride horses.”
Ugh, I hate that he’s right. I’m a regular girl who loved ponies when I was younger. All of these horses look strong and beautiful. Emphasis on strong. Their muscles bulge from beneath their glossy coats. They’ll probably buck me off if I even try to get in the saddle.
They’re also very tall. “How would I even get up there?”
He grins, knowing he’s won. “You’ll step on my hands.”
“I’m going to fall off.”
“The most important thing about riding is that you have to trust the horse.”
“I thought the horse should trust me.”
“Absolutely, but that’s only going to happen if you trust her first.”
I make a face at him, because the idea of trusting an animal that much larger and stronger than me makes me cringe. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already failed the lesson.”
A low laugh. “She’s more scared of you than you are of her. You’re going to ask her to do scary things like walk into water or jump over something. She has to know you’ll keep her safe.”
“I’m definitely not asking her to jump over anything. No jumping allowed.” I study the beautiful gray dappled mare, trying to see fear in her placid eyes. Nope, nothing. “Shouldn’t she do what I say? I thought that’s the point of the reins.”
“Only if you want her afraid. That means backing away or jumping too late.”
“How will she even know if I trust her? Will we do trust exercises?”
“Yes.” He produces a shiny red apple from his pocket and hands it to me. “Hold this on your palm with your hand flat. Don’t curl your fingers.”
“She’s going to bite me,” I warn, but I put out the apple anyway. The mare snuffles at my hand without taking the treat. She dips her head to considers the apple from the side. For a second it feels like she’s going to refuse the offer, and disappointment sinks in my stomach.
Then finally she takes it with a heavy bottom lip.
She crunches the fruit in a few slow chews, and the majesty of her clenches my throat.
“Wow,” I breathe.
“She’s a beauty,” he agrees, not taking his eyes off me.
“Why wouldn’t she trust me? Has she been mistreated?”
“It’s too fucking common. A handler can be gentle or rough, respect a horse or run her into the ground. A horse will keep going until she falls over dead if you don’t stop her.” She watches me from her dark eye, as if saying, that’s right. I would do that.
“That’s horrible.”
“It’s a big responsibility, having a horse.”
“How many do you have?”
“Right now? Ten.”
Ten animals who would run themselves into the ground for him. Ten who would fall over dead if he doesn’t stop them. “So you like responsibility.”
He laughs. “I like horses. The responsibility is the price you pay.”
The price he pays, like the money he pays me. It seems all of the things he enjoys cost him something. That’s a small consolation, because the things he enjoys cost me everything. “Can I ride her?”
He leans down and laces his hands together. “Step up this way. Grab the horn on the saddle and swing your leg over.”
I swing hard enough that I almost fall over the other side but I right myself. She feels a lot taller when I’m on top of her than when I was on the ground.
When I’m seated, he says, “Don’t worry about telling her anything. She knows how to walk and where to go. Remember. You’ve got to trust her.”