Page 71 of His Old Lady

Chapter 25

Faye

Too exhausted to openher eyes, Faye squirmed against the firmness of her bed, trying to find her pillow. If she forced herself to get up, she'd need to face the fact that her greenhouse was gone and her morning chores were no longer there.

Moving her head to find a comfortable spot, she jolted fully awake, realizing it was Curley underneath her.

She blinked her eyes open.

All her senses went haywire. One of his hands cupped her butt and the other tangled in her hair.

She held her breath, trying to tell if he was asleep or awake. Her upper body atop him, she dared not move. Even her legs were entwined with his.

A pulsating hardness throbbed against her hip. If he wasn't awake, a certain body part of his was telling her good morning.

She swallowed, aroused despite the awkwardness of waking up on top of him. They were comfortable around each other naked, but there was something about the early hours that made her hesitant to be with him.

Like she'd dreamed sleeping with him. That once he woke, he'd ride away and go back to Tarkio.

"Curley," she whispered, not moving her body.

"Hm?"

Okay. He was semi-awake. She could handle the predicament like a mature woman and slip from the bed and get dressed.

Her body tensed in arousal, fighting against her. She really, really wanted to stay in bed with him.

No. She couldn't.

It would be a bad decision on her part to stay in bed. He'd start to believe he could have sex whenever he wanted without stepping up and treating her like his old lady.

Being intimate with him always came with consequences. He'd only started to hang around her after a long absence, and now that she was working for him, having sex with him again would make things unbearable between them.

He slipped his fingers into the crack of her butt, trailed his hand down, and hooked the back of her upper thigh, pulling her fully on top of him.

The hardness that teased her hip now stood at attention, trapped between them. She gazed into Curley's dark eyes. The smoldering look told her what was coming next, and she wouldn't deny him any part of it.

He was her man, even though she never got the benefits.

Curley brought her head down and captured her lips. The roughness of his beard early in the morning curled her toes and widened her knees until she straddled him.

As if his cock knew the direction to go, the tip danced impatiently at the entrance of her pussy. She moved until the slight pressure of his size slid inside of her.

His hand squeezed her ass, and he pressed his head into the pillow, breaking the kiss. "I need a condom."

"I'm on the pill." She lowered her lips, taking his mouth.

The second he slipped her the tongue, his breathing deepened. She had many reasons to tell him to stop, and the excuses avoided her brain at the moment.

Her breasts, pressed against his chest, arched in pleasure. She fumbled with where to touch him, wanting to have her hands all over, but desperately palmed his head to hold him close. The close shave on his head days ago already left his scalp as soft as the fur on a puppy. The velvety smoothness a stark contrast to the hardness emanating from him everywhere else.

Curley lifted her pelvis and put her down on him. His cock slid through her wetness, filling her completely. Her mouth came off him. He propped her up so that she sat, straddling his hips and taking his whole length.

His shadowy stare trapped her. She panted, wanting much more than sex. Afraid he'd never give her more. It'd taken him years to be with her, and she had no idea where they were going. He could walk out of her house afterward, and she'd go through losing him again.

But she worked for him now. He'd have to see her.

He reached forward and palmed her thighs, rubbing her legs from knees to hip. "You're holding back."