I’ve played with her asshole often over the past month, getting her used to the sensations. She’s relaxed, and that means whatever’s going on in her head isn’t causing her to tense up.
Her knees grace the ground, her body swaying like a delicate flower in grass, and I take her as such. Lubricating and pushing against her ring of muscle with care.
Her flashbacks surface, but she fights them. I work her through it with starts and stops, running a hand up and down her spine and marking the changes in her breathing. It takes a while, but I have all the time in the world.
Eventually, she calms enough to accept me, and goddamn, she’s tight, squeezing and releasing around me. Nothing has ever felt this good. The impulse to pound into her grips my body, but I lock it down, keeping my thrusts slow and gentle.
“This is nothing like I remember.” She arches her back, relaxing further into my thrusts.
“Jesus, I hope not.” I dig my fingers into her hips.
She glances over her shoulder, eyes steady on mine and lips parted. “You can go faster.”
A blazing flame crackles and scorches the air between us. I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull, using my grip to bring her back to my chest and her head against my shoulder.
Then I fuck her, dragging my cock along the walls of her dark tunnel, grunting, and fingering her wet pussy. I suck hard on her neck and scrape teeth against tender skin. Her moans feed my hunger. Her breasts fill my hands, and she holds on, reaching back to clutch my ass.
This is us, wild and incendiary, dancing in the open air like a campfire. Galloping through the pasture against the wind. Soaring over the ridge with falcon wings and marveling at the glory of our life together.
I watch her profile as she comes, holding back my own release so I can savor hers—the silent scream, arched neck, and full-body tremors. She’s so much more than a gorgeous woman. She’s love and fight, laughter and tears, challenge and ecstasy.
She’s the best parts of my past come to life. Like a phantom dream.
Except I know this is real.
Because I’m more in love with the woman in my arms than my memories of her.
TRAILS OF SIN series continues with:
BUCKLED, Book 2
Jarret’s story
CLICK HERE
BOOTED, Book 3
Lorne’s story
CLICK HERE
CLICK HERE
LOVE TRIANGLE ROMANCE
TANGLED LIES TRILOGY
One is a Promise-FREE
Two is a Lie
Three is a War
DARK ROMANCE
DELIVER SERIES
Deliver #1-FREE
Vanquish #2
Disclaim #3
Devastate #4
DARK PARANORMAL ROMANCE
TRILOGY OF EVE
Heart of Eve-FREE
Dead of Eve #1
Blood of Eve #2
Dawn of Eve #3
STUDENT-TEACHER ROMANCE
Dark Notes
Beneath the Burn
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Dirty Ties
EROTIC ROMANCE
Incentive
Run by Matt Nathanson and Sugarland
Mile On The Moon by Sarah Jarosz
Highway Don’t Care by Tim McGraw
What Hurts The Most by Rascal Flatts
Need You Now by Lady Antebellum
Beautiful War by Kings Of Leon
Girl Crush by Little Big Town
Kick It In The Sticks by Brantley Gilbert
Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars
Don’t Bite The Dick by David Allan Coe
Not Ready To Make Nice by Dixie Chicks
Whiskey and You by Chris Stapleton
Meant to Be by Bebe Rexha and Florida Georgia Line
Body Like A Back Road by Sam Hunt
Breathe by Faith Hill
To the Freedom Fighters - You’re always there for me with the best kind of encouragement. I wouldn’t be able to do this job without you.
To my beta readers - Angela Ann, Tajana Cote, Brooke Hoover, Author Ellie Masters, Helene Cuji, Ketty Beale, Shea Moran - You’re fucking awesome. Like, after a night of mind-blowing, wall-banging, ravaging sex, and the next morning, you still feel all that affection and raw honesty in your bones… You’re that kind of awesome.
To my greyhounds - You have terrible gas and dig in my flower beds and ruin my hard work. But I forgive you with all the love in the world, because you’re my favorites.
To my family - Chad, Jaedha, and Leighton - Thank you for putting up with my neurotic schedule. I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I’ll love you even more tomorrow.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.
EMAIL: pamgodwinauthor@gmail.com
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