“As slow as you can make it,” he replies, a wicked grin twisting his lips.
I ease the lever up the tiniest bit, just enough that I can barely hear the whir of the machine’s motor turning. With a groan, the bull moves slightly forward and down, making a leisurely turn on its post. Rusty doesn’t move but for the motion of his hips as he rides fluidly on the swiveling bull. When it revolves completely, leaving him facing me again, I see the almost imperceptible tip of his head. “You coming?”
I don’t answer him. I don’t need to. I step out from behind the console and I walk toward Rusty, an answer in and of itself. Anticipation pours through me when I step up onto the thick, black mat and stop at the base of the slow-moving machine.
Without a word, Rusty holds out his hands. Without a word, I take them.
Effortlessly, he pulls me up onto the bull with him, my back pressed to his chest, his hard body folding in around me. “Put your hands here,” he whispers in my ear as he leans forward to show me.
I do as he asks, excitement curling in my stomach. I feel Rusty drag my hair away from my neck just before his lips touch my skin. My nipples pucker reflexively.
“Do you know how much I wanted to be up here with you tonight?” He pushes his hips against my butt. I can feel how hard he is, just as hard as I knew he would be. “Watching you arch your back,” he says, trailing his fingers down my spine, causing me to bow outward. His hand rises back up to the band of my bra, his fingers easily unsnapping it. Slowly, he runs his palms up to my neck and then down over my shoulders, not stopping until he brushes my fingertips, pushing off my top. “I kept imagining how hard your nipples would be if I were touching them while you rode this bull.”
He cups both breasts in his hands and squeezes. My breath hitches in my throat and heat puddles between my legs.
“I know you were wishing I was up here with you, too. I could see it in every sway of your hips,” he murmurs against my neck, the fingers of one hand tracing circles around my nipple as his other travels down the center of my stomach. “And I know that if I could’ve touched you right then, I’d have found these wet,” he whispers, dipping his hand down into my panties and cupping my burning flesh. “Mmmm, just like this.”
The lights swirl around me, framed by the pitch black of the empty bar. I close my eyes, abandoning myself to the moment, to the feel of what Rusty’s doing to me as he slips one finger inside me.
I moan and let my head fall back against his shoulder. He rolls my nipple between finger and thumb as he thrusts the fingers of his other hand in and out of me. Long, deep movements, like the rhythm of the bull.
“I knew you’d be dripping. Watching me watch you. Wishing you were riding my cock up here on this bull. Fantasizing about coming for me. In front of all those people. I know you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Lazily, he drags his fingers out of me to tease my clit with leisurely swirls. I move my hips against him, breathless as the familiar tension builds inside me.
I feel Rusty lean away from me before he puts his hands around my waist and lifts, turning me around on the bull to sit facing him, but not straddling him.
The look on his face is ravenous as he takes off my hat and flings it into the darkness. “Do you think there’s anyone outside right now, Jenna? Out there in the dark? Watching us through the windows?”
His lips crash down on mine before I have time to answer. His tongue licks along mine as his hands roam over my breasts and my stomach, my back and my hips. He’s touching me everywhere except the place I need him to touch me most.
When he tears his lips away from mine, he puts his palm between my breasts and pushes gently, urging me to lie back. I relax over the head of the bull, letting the slow, easy movements of the machine set the pace for what’s to come.
Rusty drags his hand down my stomach, not stopping until he reaches the juncture of my widely spread thighs. I feel him move my panties to one side. There’s a pause that lasts a lifetime. It’s filled with heat and electricity and wild anticipation. And then I feel the hot lick of his tongue. I buck at first, like the imitation bull beneath me might. But then I relax under his mouth, easing my legs back down over the sides of the machine, opening them wider and giving Rusty full access to my body. The blood is rushing to my head, making it swim lightly and I feel the tightening of my muscles as Rusty pushes two fingers inside me. In and out, he moves them as his tongue flickers over my sensitive flesh.
“I wonder if someone’s watching me lick you, watching my tongue when I do this,” he says, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue. He works it into me, penetrating me as deeply as he can, his lips pressing against my most sensitive part as he does. When he moves back up to flick the tiny muscle, sucking it briefly into his mouth, I lose my breath completely.
“Rusty,” I manage to say above the twirling lights and dizzying pleasure.
“I bet every man in this bar was wishing he could have a taste of you tonight, to taste that sweet come pour out of you onto his tongue. But I’m the only one who gets to taste you. I’m the one who gets to make you come tonight,” he says, the vibration of his words traveling through his lips and stimulating my pulsing flesh.
“Rusty, please.”
“Please what?” he asks. “Please eat you in front of whoever might be watching? Or please sit you up so you can ride me until your come runs down my cock and onto this bull?”
I can’t think with him saying these things to me. I can’t breathe with him doing these things to me. All I can do is feel. And I feel need—need for Rusty’s body. Filling me up. Stretching me tight. Pushing me to the edge.
And I need it now.
“Please,” I repeat breathlessly.
Rusty’s hands leave me for a few seconds. But then he’s winding my legs around his waist, pulling me upright, and slamming me down onto his hard, thick length.
I cry out. A scream, torn from me. I can’t help it. Nothing has ever felt more perfect. Or more right.
Our loud moans of pleasure mingle. I can’t tell the sounds apart. I just know that there’s no better feeling in the world than Rusty, inside me. All around me. With me.
His hands are in my hair as he eases me up and down on him, deeper and deeper with each slow buck of the bull. I shudder against him when he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks it hard against his tongue.
I knock his hat off and thread my fingers into his hair, holding him to me as he moves my body on his. “I hope someone’s watching when you come on me, Jenna,” he says hoarsely as he tugs my head back and sinks his blunt teeth into the flesh of my breast. “I want someone to see my mouth on these nipples. I want someone to see your beautiful body riding my cock. I want someone to see my fingers biting into this delicious ass.”
Just then, he leans back and flexes his hips, his fingers digging into my back side. I fall more fully onto him, taking in every long, strong inch. With that one stroke, I explode into a shower of muted sounds and blurring lights. My body spasms around his, squeezing it tight, drawing it in. Rusty grinds his hips into mine before he picks me up and drops me back down onto him, one, two, three times.
Rusty’s body goes rigid beneath me and I open my eyes a crack, just in time to see him throw his head back. He lets out a growl that tingles along my nerves. Then I feel the hot pulse of his climax, pouring into me. I feel it inside me, all around me, as the shudder of his body vibrates through my core.
Still awash with sensation, I collapse against Rusty and we sway gently to the rhythm of the bull. After several long minutes, with only the sound of our heavy breathing piercing the quiet around us, Rusty lowers his head to meet my eyes. “Don’t ever take this away from me again,” he says softly.