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Authors: Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6]

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BOOK: Natalie Acres
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She released a ragged breath. “Can we go over to the den and sit?”

“Are you prepared to tell us everything?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I promise.”

Brock gathered her in his arms and carried her to the large square ottoman. He took a seat on the leather sofa across from it and Mitch saw the setup clearly from where he stood.

He had to give Brock credit. He was always thinking ahead. Rory sat next to him and Mitch took his place on the other side of him.

Trixie’s gaze slowly worked over each of them. She acted as if she were taking a moment to appreciate the men before her and Mitch couldn’t help but use the time to contemplate the forthcoming minutes, the delicious show she would soon allow them.

“He wanted me to fear him. He explained what he would’ve done to me had he been given the chance.”

“What did he say?” Brock asked.

“He talked about fucking me, about how he would make sure I’d never want another man again after he brutalized me.” She sat taller. “I believe you when you said he thought I wouldn’t tell you. I also believe if he is ever released—and he will be soon as we all know—he will come for me.”

“Do you have any idea why he targeted Trixie?” Brock asked.

Mitch stroked his chin. “I don’t know.”

“Aspen McKay said he was more dangerous than Pratchert.”

Rory fiddled with his phone. “While the cops were here, I ran a search on his name. He had twenty-seven counts of rape or attempted rape. He was definitely a repeat offender.”

“They should’ve locked him up and thrown away the key,” Brock said, turning sharply on Mitch. “And from now on, I trust no one earning your nod of approval.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m right there with him, Mitch,” Rory piped in. “You need to learn to be more aware of the people around you. Your biggest flaw in life has been that giving heart of yours…and the guilt you feel over Jordie Anne. You thought it was your responsibility to save her. When you couldn’t, you started looking for someone else to help.”

“That’s true, baby,” Trixie said cautiously, placing her hands on his knees. “Your heart is beautiful, Mitch, but it is also too trusting. You give people the benefit of the doubt when they don’t deserve it.”

Mitch desperately wished he could take a snapshot of her then. In her eyes, he saw the love of a lifetime, the genuine compassion she held for him.

Instead of losing another piece of himself then, he leaned against the cushions and said, “Is there anything else you need to tell us about Cash?”

She shook her head. “That’s pretty much it.”

Brock said, “When we get back to North Carolina, I’ll have Kane call in some favors. We’ll keep Mr. Whitehead on ice for a few years. After enough psychological evaluations and a violation of probation sentencing, maybe the state will place him in a mental facility where he belongs.”

“And then what?” Mitch asked, distraught to think of Cash spending the rest of his life behind bars.

“What’s wrong with you?” Brock asked. “Can you forgive him after what he’s done?”

“What did he do exactly?” Mitch rubbed his jaw with the heel of his hand. “If you ask me, he was crying out for help. Maybe we can approach this from a different angle and try to help him.”

“I’m not opposed,” Trixie said.

“You don’t have a say in the matter,” Brock said, a hard edge to his voice.

Trixie set her small lips in a tight line.

“You wanted more domination,” Brock reminded her.

“Is that true, sub?” Mitch asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Stand up,” Mitch said, ready to shelve the Cash conversation.

She complied.

“Undress,” Brock told her, butting in as usual.

Trixie crossed her arm over her waist and tugged at the hem of her shirt. In one sweeping motion, the cotton T-shirt was over her head. Another second later, her slacks and panties were discarded.

Mitch gasped. He hadn’t noticed before but visible stretch marks had left their undeniable child-bearing reminder. He inched closer. Raking his fingers over the thin scars, he whispered, “One day.”

Trixie released a cry she quickly muffled, slapping her hand over her mouth. Tears filled her eyes.

Mitch instantly regretted the mention. Trixie must have realized—and everyone present understood, too—what he’d implied. There was only one way to avoid that discussion. Redirect the focus.

“Spread your legs wider, bring your hair forward, and rest one hand on your pussy,” he said.

Dragging the back of her hand across her damp cheeks, she quickly pulled herself together. Her small hand went to her bare cunt and she dipped her fingers lower, circling her clit.

“I didn’t ask you to play with your clit.” He opened his mouth and eyed her slick folds. Damn, what he’d give to drop to his knees, tuck his hands under her ass, and taste her sweet essence. Instead, he resisted the urges. “Finger yourself. Stuff your fingers inside your pussy, sub. Do it now.”

Trixie jerked. Her eyes met Brock’s.

“Don’t look at me. Mitch is calling the shots right now. Mind him.”

Her fingers immediately parted her folds and she tucked one finger inside her channel, swiftly circling the digit around and around.

“Beautiful,” Mitch said, licking his upper lip. “Add another one.”

She immediately complied.

Rory leaned forward. “Gorgeous woman.”

“And another,” Mitch said, rubbing his hand over his swollen cock.

Brock and Rory stirred beside him, but Mitch wasn’t interested in their arousal or the way they responded to the pleasure she represented. He only cared about one thing at the moment.

He wanted to turn on a woman and jump-start a few orgasms. He needed to see Trixie writhing under her own hand. Then they would enjoy a simple meal together and discuss their plans for the future.

If Brock and Rory were still speaking to him after supper, they’d spend the evening training one beautiful vixen. If they weren’t open to what he planned to suggest, then he would ask for one final night with the woman he loved. Then, he would say farewell and walk away from Trixie once and for all.

Chapter Thirty-Two

 

Trixie’s wet pussy clenched around her twitching fingers. She dropped her head back and moaned, thrusting her hips forward.

“That’s beautiful, sugar,” Brock said. “Right like that.”

Her skin heated. Her ass cheeks tightened. She gave the effort her all, cramming her hand against her vagina and reaching as far as she could with her fingers.

“I need to come,” she whispered, hoping Mitch would say the word.

“Not yet,” he rasped, unhooking his belt.

“Please.”

“Damn it. I said not yet.” He unzipped his fly and stood over her. Pushing his slacks down to his knees, he fisted his cock.

Her mouth watered. Her back bowed. She flattened her feet on the ottoman and pumped her hips toward the ceiling, raising her body as far away from the surface as possible.

“Remove your fingers,” Mitch ordered. “Now.”

She had been seconds away from climaxing without permission and Mitch had likely suspected as much. “Now what, Dom?”

An adorable lopsided smile made her heart race. He pressed his thumb against the head of his cock. When he lifted his hand to her lips, she eagerly sucked the dot of pre-cum from the pad, savoring the taste of him.

“Play with your clit.”

“Touching my clit will definitely send me into spasms.”

“Do it,” Mitch said, stepping closer.

Her fingers went straight to work and her body immediately responded. “Oh God, Mitch. Please!”

She couldn’t hold off much longer. She needed to come. She needed to find some satisfaction.

A quick glance over Mitch’s shoulder left her all the more enticed. Brock rubbed his cock with a slow hand, the bulge between his thighs thickening with every deliberate stroke.

Rory clasped his hands behind his head. His tongue rested in the corner of his mouth and every now and again, he’d release a masculine growl.

She massaged her clit with fervor. Returning her focus to Mitch, she opened her mouth and moaned aloud, trying to keep her orgasm at bay but realizing another minute would be a stretch now.

She was seconds away from exploding!

 

* * * *

 

Mitch was ready to blow!

He had meant to orchestrate the perfect training, hold her mere seconds away from release then refuse to let her find pleasure in an orgasm she initiated. Instead, he had worked her into a fit of passion, one where she would undoubtedly ride out one climax only to grab on to another.

He’d damn himself before he’d let her go wild and crazy on her own. Too many years had separated them. Too much time had elapsed. He needed more from Trixie than he’d ever desired in the past.

His slacks bunched at his knees. His cock twitched. His pulse raced.

Even in the best of times, he rarely took her on his own. He had always shared her with Brock and Rory. He had always fucked Trixie as one member of a very loving team.

Not today. No, he needed inside her pulsing pussy worse than he needed his next drink of water.

She tilted her head to the side and moistened her lips. Her eyelids were heavy. Her hand moved faster. Her legs trembled.

Inching closer to the ottoman, Mitch bent his knee and towered over her. Staring down at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he said, “Stop, sub.”

“Mitch, no!”

He grabbed her hand and slapped her pussy as hard as he could.

“Oh my.” Her exasperated voice filled the air. Her nipples hardened, taking on the shape of perfect diamonds.

“Sub. When I say stop, don’t take that to mean the day after tomorrow. You will follow my requests immediately. Understand?”

“Yes, Dom,” she replied. Her breasts were full. Her stomach muscles tightened. “But please let me come. Please.”

He couldn’t help but stare at the glistening evidence of her excitement. The glossy appearance of her parted pussy lips showcased her hot lust and building desire.

“Turn over,” he ordered. “You need a spanking. Maybe after a few licks, you’ll remember who is in charge.”

Trixie stuck out her lip. God, he loved that. He loved it because Trixie’s pouting wasn’t an act.

Reluctantly, she complied and rolled to her stomach. She grumbled about her growing needs and wants and he couldn’t help but grin to himself.

God love her. She had no idea what was about to transpire.

Glancing over her head, he observed Brock and Rory. They would definitely be astonished. He’d never loved on a woman by himself in front of either of them.

“Prop up on your elbows,” Mitch said. “Rise to your knees.”

Once her body was perfectly arched, Mitch wasted no time. In order to enhance the element of surprise, he grabbed her hips and slammed his groin against her body, thrusting inside her hot, dripping pussy with one hard stroke.

“Mitch!”

He reared back, propelling his arm behind him.

“Easy!” Brock yelled, apparently under the impression he wouldn’t restrain himself before he spanked her.

Mitch winked at his friends in an effort to taunt them. Then, he spanked her as he fucked her, twisting his hips as he sank deeper into that sweet womanly inferno burning with evidence of her unquenchable desire.

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

“They’ve been fucking for half an hour,” Rory complained, yanking the casserole out of the stove.

“Jealous?” Brock asked, sticking his hand in a bag of chips and eyeing the sensual lovemaking in progress.

Rory tossed the pan on top of the stove. “Damn right.”

Brock returned his focus to Mitch and Trixie. He’d never seen Mitch in the throes of true lovemaking. Brock hadn’t known him to give himself to a woman without conditions.

Trixie rode him. She locked her hands behind her neck and roughed him up like a man enjoyed being abused.

Mitch bracketed one arm behind her back, suckling her breasts as he thrust inside her with timed beats. A masculine growl resounded. He pumped harder and harder. Beads of sweat peppered his body. Perspiration dampened her beautiful flesh as well.

“Come!” Mitch cried out. “Now, baby. Oh yes, now. Right like that, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” Rory muttered, standing beside Brock. “I feel left out.”

“We haven’t missed out by any means,” Brock said, his cock stretching forward. His erection was damn near painful and he longed to join them, but something inside him prevented him from interrupting them.

Perhaps he’d finally come to terms with the truth.

Mitch had clearly needed this time with Trixie. He’d been away from her for far too long and it didn’t take a mind reader to determine how much he loved her, how much he’d missed her. The man was undoubtedly head over heels for her.

A surge of guilt washed over him. Brock had tried to keep them apart in spite of what was right in front of him. His lifelong friend and his woman clearly loved one another.

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