𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓮 - jean k.
ᴡɪʟᴅ ᴡᴇꜱᴛ ᴀᴜ - ᴄᴏᴡʙᴏʏ ᴊᴇᴀɴ ᴋɪʀꜱᴛᴇɪɴ x ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
"Real enough for you, rider?"
18+ MDNI ── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ── After working a long day in the apple orchard, you silently wish that something would come along to intrigue you.
ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇʀ? ── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Word Count: 8,480
CW: smut no plot lol. mention of blood (not a lot). Knife play and non-con voyeurism if you squint. fingering, oral f receiving, lotus position (my fav lol), riding.
a/n: The reader/yn here is a fiesty/bossy type and Jean is more the romantic/pathetic type, his true nature lol. This is my first time writing something like this so comment your thoughts and if you want part 2! Enjoy this story about the best dream I've ever had. <3
The warm late-summer breeze tickled the skin on your arms as you hauled another basket of apples from the wagon into the storage shed by the stable. As the apples poured into one of the wooden crates at your feet, your arms had a heavy ache from all the picking and hauling you’d done since sun up.
Since Momma and Papa were travelling far, all the way into town, to sell the recent harvest, you stayed behind to keep collecting the apples and storing them. The gettin’ was good this time of year, and lord knows y’all needed the money. So, you worked hard. Nobody was gonna do it for you, right?
The wind snaked through the leaves on the trees in the nearby, the gentle rustling sounded like secrets whispered by the land that surrounded you for miles. This paired with the rushing of the distant creek created that comforting sound of home that was both soothing and irritating. On days like this, when it was just you and the wide open blue skies, you longed for something new to happen. Something to break the routine between visits to town and the markets. That was the wish that fell off your lips when you pled to the stars at night.
I want an adventure.
Once the last bucket from the wagon was empty, you’d decided it was time to take a break to wash up, and maybe find the energy to procure a meal. Walking to the house now, you stretch your shoulders out, reaching your arms above your head and inhaling.
Hiking your skirt up a little, you climb the few stairs of the porch, swiping the wash cloths, soap, and a white chemise you had laid out this morning. The cool, crystal-clear waters of the creek that came down from the mountains were calling your name on this warm day.
As you walked through the orchard down to the creek, the sunshine spliced in and out through the overhead leaves, casting glittering light in your vision. The sounds of the grass under your boots was the only thing in the calm silence. When you finally reached the edge of the waters, your layers immediately started coming off. Boots, first and foremost, then the canvas apron, dress, and chemise. Once you were fully bare, you dipped your feet into the cool waters, wash cloth and soap in hand.
After thoroughly washing, you had put on your fresh, calf-length chemise and sat on a nearby rock while braiding your hair back. The late-afternoon sun was doing its job to dry you off as you sat there, skin softened from the minerals in the crystalline creek. You sang a tune for the several minutes you sat, your sweet voice carrying on the wind.
And then you heard it, a steady rustling in the grass, growing ever closer. It cut off your song abruptly, surprising you. You peered around.
We weren’t expecting company today?
The larger trees that lined the creek were blocking your views of what could be approaching.
I need to cover up…
You throw your apron on over the chemise to cover yourself further, tying the bow in the back just in time.
“Pardon me, miss?”
It was a deep drawl. Husky, dry, and gentle.
You saw the brown horse first, the hooves brushing through the grass. It let out a huff when it saw you.
Then you saw the tall man that held the reigns, walking alongside. They stopped their advances about 30 feet away.
In the time it took to take a breath, your eyes mapped him over, assessing the stranger. It was clear that he was not from town, so he must be travelling through. His clothes looked in good need of a wash, dusted with the evidence of a long journey. The metal spur on his left boot jingled as he shifted in place, catching your attention. Your eyes trailed up from there, briefly noting the brown pants that were buckled snugly around his hips. The weathered white shirt that was tucked in messily, and the tan leather vest that probably felt like a blanket in this heat. The large hand that reached up to grab the chesnut, wide-brimmed hat off his head, revealing ashen brown hair that was slicked back with sweat.
Oh, thank you, stars, thank you…
He pressed the hat to his chest, his head dipping down in a sketched bow. You rested your hands on your hips, an involuntary posturing that was a defensive reflex when faced with a stranger.
He repeated, “Pardon the intrusion.” His lips pulled into a shy smile as his head rose from its bowed position, eyes the color of bee’s honey finding yours.
My God, he’s handsome.
“I saw the orchard from the road, reckon’d it’d be a good place to feed the ol’ hoss,” he said, gesturing with the reigns in his hand. He let out a quick “-CHT” sound from the side of his mouth, a command to the horse. It dipped its head quickly, like it was giving you a nodded greeting, punctuated with a short chuff through it’s mouth.
Your brow quirked up, an open mouthed smirk spreading.
He let out a low chuckle, smiling at the animal briefly before returning to your gaze.
Ah, the apples.
He slowly dropped the reigns, loosing the horse so it could walk over to the creek bed and drink. It was a beautiful animal, larger than the ones in your own fields. Meanwhile, he placed his hat back on his head as he took a few steps towards you himself. Still maintaining a comfortable distance.
“Is that what you reckon’d?” Your voice came out with a touch of taunt, but you meant business. Handsome as he was, the fact that you were alone with him maintained.
His steps slowed to a stop. The shy smile shifted slightly, recognizing the attitude you’d established.
A challenge?
His head dipped slightly, just for a moment, the brim of the hat covering his eyes.
His throat bobbed before he spoke, his voice kind. “Yes, miss. If that’s alright with you. Is this your farm? Or is there someone else I should talk to?”
Your arms moved from your hips to cross over your chest. “Talk to about what, rider?”
His hands moved to rest on the belt around his hips, hooking his thumbs through there.
Good Lord Almighty
“I was hoping there might be a vacancy for a traveler, just for the night. Or at least a place to wash up before pushin’ on. I’d be gone by sun up.” His voice was gentle, “I knocked on the door, but no answer.”
So he knows you’re alone, or at least assumes. You glanced over at the saddle bags, then over his body again, not caring if he saw. He needed to know you were sizing him up.
No weapons, at least not visible…
“I think that’ll do fine, but don’t think you’re gettin’ somethin’ for nothin’,” you said with that firm tease.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll earn my keep. Anythin’ need to be done around the farm, Miss…?” He took a few steps towards you now, glancing towards the orchard for a moment, his voice curling into a question.
I can think of a few things.
“That’s Miss y/n to you. And what do I call the stranger who had the gall to walk onto my farm unannounced?” You took a couple steps towards him as you spoke, only a few steps between you remained now. As you approached, you noticed more details about him; the shine of sweat on his neck mixing with the ruddy hues of dirt, the sunkissed skin that was dusted with freckles, his dark eyelashes that looked too soft as he peered at you.
The corner of his mouth curved up, “They call me Jean.” His hand came up to pinch the front brim of his hat, dipping his head again before returning the hand to his hip.
“Well, Jean. Why don’t you refresh yourself and then you can help me with the harvest. Daylight is wasting.” You held the eye contact, a quiet game of boundaries. “I’ll go get the wagon.”
He nodded with an exhale. “Thank you for your hospitality, Miss y/n.” The sound of your name in his rough voice sent a spark down into your stomach.
Oh, this is going to be trouble.
“Make it worth my while, mister.”
And with that, you finally peeled your eyes away from his and stepped past him towards the orchard. You heard his low chuckle from behind you before the sound of his booted steps got further away.
The grass and fallen leaves from the orchard trees were soft under your bare feet. Once you got a decent distance away, you slowed, standing by a nearby tree to face the water again. You could see him there at the creek bed, kneeling. He used both hands to cup handfuls of water up to his mouth, taking long gulps. His long-grown hair fell forward as he had his head dipped down, hat disregarded on a nearby rock.
He used the water to wash his face, his neck, running it through his hair.
I like to see him kneeling like that…
The thought tugged a smirk, pulling a silent sigh from deep within. As if your desire had sound, he turned his head in your general direction. You didn’t hide, just remained looking for a moment longer. You turned again, continuing towards the shed.
-
As you approached the creek again, you abandoned the wagon where the orchard ended. The smell of the red and yellow apples nearby left a lingering sweetness in the breeze.
His vest was off now, hanging on the side of the saddle.
Hearing you approach, he stopped his hands from continuing to unbutton his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes holding an unspoken question.
“Go right ahead, don’t mind me. Nothin’ I ain’t seen before, rider,” you called to him. You saw his shoulders lift briefly with a laugh before he looked towards the water again. As you waited for him to finish his business, you picked up a few fallen apples that the bugs were about to get into. Carrying the fruit over to his horse, you watched him finally start to peel off the shirt, pulling it free from where it was tucked in his pants before letting it slide down his arms.
He’s strong.
Of course he was. No way a wrangler would be anything less than muscled and lean, as he was. The skin of his torso was as tanned as his face, the tone catching the warm rays from the early evening sun that crested over the trees across the creek.
Finally reaching the horse, you stood by its face and lifted an apple up to it. He took a sniff before taking it from your hand, gently, then devouring it.
Jean reached down to let the rushing water run through his shirt, wringing it out in the shallows. His arms up to his shoulders flexed with the action, showcasing his collarbones and neck. He looked up at you then, but you let your gaze take its time to meet his eyes.
He huffed out a breath through his nose, stirred by your blatant staring.
“You shy or somethin’?” You tease, a smirk spreading again.
“No, miss. I’m not.” But the shy blush on his face told a different story.
“He likes ya,” he continued, nodding his head to the horse once.
“Oh, yeah? I should hope so, I’m good with horses.” You reached out to pet the horse on the head between the ears. You felt him start to bite at your apron pocket that had more apples in it, tickling you. With a small giggle, you plucked another apple out and fed it to him.
When you looked back to the cowboy to your side, he was wringing out the last lingering drops of water from the shirt. He slipped it back on, damp or not. The sun and warm breeze would make quick work of drying it. He left it untucked, the couple topmost buttons remaining unfastened.
“I saw yours out in the field. Beautiful.” His voice was like liquor, smooth and searing. “Now, how can I be of service, Miss y/n?”
You gave one last pat on his horse’s head before turning to him, meeting his patient eyes. This was the closest you’d been, and you felt the tension pulling tight.
You looked down to dump the rest of the apples from your apron onto the grass in front of the horse, dusting your hands off.
“You can hold my basket, and pull my wagon. These trees ain’t gonna harvest themselves, cowboy. If you make yourself useful, I’ll consider letting you stay.” You stepped toward the orchard, beckoning him to follow.
“I can do that and then some. Like I said, I know how to earn my keep.” His words nearly stopped you in your tracks, they carried weight.
But you pushed on.
Now he’s gettin’ it.
Once you two made your way to the wagon, he grabbed the handle and let you lead the way to the nearest tree that was bearing ripe enough fruit. “So, what brings you down the road today?” You ask while starting to pick the lowest hanging apples in front of you. He walks to your side, basket in his arms, ready to take what you held in your hands. You dumped them in, going for more on the tree.
His proximity brought his scent with him. The mix of leather, tobacco, and something else heady made a pool stir deep within you.
“I was headin’ into town, meetin’ with a trader there. Been a couple days journey already,” he muttered, his voice hauntingly low. Not in fear, but with intensity that sealed away the all questions that could have still been lingering.
I’ll make him squirm.
See how bad he wants it, too.
“This farm must have been a sweet sight after all that time,” you say, purposefully matching his intensity. No time or patience for games.
“Among other things.” You knew he was staring right at you, and it made a rush of heat race down your spine. He spoke slow, unhurried. “I was fixed to leave since no one was around, but then I heard the creek. And then later I heard that sweet voice of yours. It called to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” You reached for an apple, knowing that delaying eye contact with him was dampening his ego a bit. It was exciting. “And what did I say?”
Keep going.
“That you might need some company.” The patience was evident, he was willing to drag this out as much as you wanted him to.
There was an apple overhead, just out of reach. He noticed, and you took the basket from him so he could use both hands to bend the branch down pull off the apples that you couldn’t reach. They thudded into the basket softly, adding weight and pressure onto your tired arms.
You examined the apples, making sure they weren’t bruised.
Ignoring his comment, savoring it.
He spoke again, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. “I know you were watchin’ me, earlier.”
A rush flooded your chest. Excitement? Anticipation? You kept your gaze down at the apples, trying to hide your knowing smirk.
You felt the basket press into your stomach.
This got your attention. You looked up at him now, slightly taken aback by his brazen behavior. He’d taken a step forward, his hips pressing to the basket, which was the only thing that separated you now. His face was dangerously close, you could feel the warm energy mixing between you.
Yes. God, yes.
“I wasn’t hidin’ or nothin’.” Your words came out with a tease.
His throat bobbed as you met his eyes, but he didn’t look away for a second. You could hear his breaths now, how he was trying to keep them even and calm.
“I know, miss. But I have to confess… I was watchin’ you, too. In the water.” With the admission, he finally let his gaze drop, like he’d been cut loose. First to your mouth, then to your exposed shoulders. That tobacco and leather smell had enveloped you, inescapable.
You couldn’t stop the flash of surprise in your eyes, which of course he caught.
So he watched for… a while.
“I thought I’d finally died ‘n gone to heaven. I had to see if you were real.” It was a deep whisper. His eyes were silently devouring you. His hands moved now, taking the basket back from you, slowly, but not moving away from you. The long strands of his damp hair fell forward from behind his ears at the angle, dusting his cheeks and jaw like they were purposefully trying to entice you there.
He’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Dropping your arms down to your sides, you coached your voice to be as unbothered as possible, but still quiet enough to pull the tension taut. “Real enough for ya, rider?”
The laugh he let out was an exhale as his mouth parted into a bashful smile. “Realer than rain, darlin’.”
That exchange latched like an unspoken agreement.
Make your move.
His eyes met yours then, the honeyed brown a thin ring as they dilated at the sight of you. “So… ya like what ya saw?”
Your mouth parted in a surprised smile, lips just barely curving.
He continued before you had a chance to speak, lower than before. All jest had vacated. “Ya like to see men on their knees, then?”
Sparks flew through your body, breath hitching in your throat. It was a shock to the system, activating you. That feeling in your stomach moved deeper, pulling at your composure. Your breaths came quicker now, more shallow.
Fuck, yes.
“Give me another example.” Your smirk was almost imperceptible, but he caught it nonetheless. His heated eyes glimpsed yours again in a flash before casting downward, no questions asked.
He moved then, crouching in front you. One of his knees hitting the floor, the other bent up by his chest. He discarded the basket in his hands at the base of the tree, then turned his attention back to you. His head was dangerously close to where you felt heat pooling. But his face was still hidden, looking to the ground below.
You felt his calloused fingers brush the inside of your ankle, before dragging upwards a few inches. It was paralyzing, gentle in a way that you could not handle. One touch set your skin on fire, spreading like a poison. After taking a breath, he slowly stood, eyes raking your body as he did so.
My God…
“Like that?” His gaze was relentless now that you’d let it go this far. “Is that what you want?”
You took the opportunity to mirror his earlier statement, steeping it in want. “Among other things.” It was your turn, so you kept your eyes fixed on roaming whatever you wanted them to. Over his neck, his chest that was slightly exposed from the undone buttons. The breeze caught the fabric, brushing it softly over his skin.
Beautiful…
He took a steadying breath, realizing he got the confirmation he was all but begging for. His voice was thick with want, beckoning a reaction from you, “I can do that.”
I’m tired of waiting.
You reached towards his torso, fingers landing on one of the buttons there. You didn’t undo it, just barely held it between two fingers. The heat from his skin was seeping into you now, causing another wave of desire to course through you. At your touch, he unleashed his restraint a bit. His hands moved, ghosting over your waist before letting them rest there, thumbs brushing, squeezing. The touch was gentle, but claiming.
You looked up at him, and he was staring at you like he’d starved for a week. Maybe he did, you didn’t know. Or care.
His head dipped in a nod to you, asking. You nodded back, anticipation unspooling in your chest.
Without a word, he stepped, pushing you with him until your back pressed softly into the tree trunk behind you. He dipped his head, bending down enough to bring his face to the side of your neck. His lips ghosted there, casting goosebumps in their wake. His heated breath fanned over your shoulder.
He inhaled, and you felt his hands slide from your waist backward, reaching the tie that kept your apron secured around you. As his hands worked to undo the tie, he finally pressed his lips to the sensitive spot below your ear. The scruff along his jaw offered the perfect complementing feeling to the softness of his mouth.
At the hitch of your breath, he continued pressing light kisses there until you felt the apron loosen around you. He broke away, standing up straighter again, just to start slipping it off from where it hung around your neck, leaving nothing behind but the thin white fabric. He dropped it into the basket at your feet, meeting your gaze.
He took in your state. The evidence of a warm flush that bloomed your skin, the goosebumps that he left behind. All it took to spur him on further was the clear desire in your eyes, the quickened breaths that seemed to beg him for more. He made a small noise from the back of his throat, sounding like awe. Reverence.
And then he obliged you. He crouched again in front of you, both of his knees placed onto the grass. But this time, he kept his eye contact, staring up at you through those dark lashes. His hands idly made their way to touch the outside of your ankles, then crept upwards with an agonizing slowness.
His mouth parted as he watched the chill go through you at his touch. Once he reached high enough to meet the hem of your chemise at your calves, his eyes focused on what was in front of him. As he continued to move his hands up, his grip on you became more firm. It was hiking the fabric up as he went, exposing your skin to his warm breaths.
His eyes flashed up to you again, paired with a wicked grin, catching you by surprise. Then, suddenly, he pulled the hem up and over his head.
You gasped, not expecting the delight of it. How he could see every piece of you while he remained hidden. You couldn’t see his face anymore, but you could feel his lips grazing your knee, then the other one. His breaths were faster now and fanning over your thighs, but his touch lingered at an unhurried pace. It was sickening how much your core was throbbing at the contact.
His rough hands kept their firm grip as he slid them higher, giving the plush flesh of the outside of your thighs a squeeze before planting a hot kiss at the point where your hip turned into your thigh. He had you pinned now, pressed fully into the tree. Another searing kiss, open mouthed and hot. You felt the wetness of his tongue dart out, tasting the curve of your body.
Your hand reflexively moved to rest on the top of his head, encouraging him while also giving you some kind of purchase to hold onto. His head moved, pressing more kisses to the other hip. His hands slid to the back of your thighs, firmly cupping there. His hands were large, and hot like a brand against your sensitive skin.
You felt and heard him take a long breath through his nose, his head stilling in front of you for a moment. His hands moved with slightly more urgency as he used one to press your left hip back, flush to the tree, while his other hand pulled up on the back of your right knee, urging you to shift your weight.
Yes…
You did so, letting him hike your leg up, guiding it to drape over his shoulder.
“My God…” he said, his voice a fractured whisper.
An involuntary whine came out of you, a plea. You were wholly exposed now, the breeze touching skin that it usually doesn’t.
As if that’s what he was waiting for, he leaned closer, giving in finally. Like the kisses on your hips, he pressed one directly onto your core with an open mouth. You could feel the wetness of his mouth mixing with the slickness already present, the sensation wracking a quiet moan out from you. He continued, using just his lips to dip into your heat tenderly.
The scent and sounds that came from where you two met were driving him crazy, enough that his eyes were fluttered shut in order to heighten his other senses more. He was growing more and more strained under his stiff pants. The pressure building, his composure threatening to shatter like a whip about to crack. He sighed out a silent plea, begging himself to remain focused. To not get lost, yet.
The next kiss stayed latched, and you felt the hot slick of his tongue press flatly across your clit in a upwards motion. The feeling was too much and not enough all at once, causing your eyes to screw shut for a moment, mouth parting in silent pleasure. He hummed out a hungry sound with his mouth still connected to you, barely audible over your own rapid breaths.
He adjusted his shoulder to be underneath your thigh instead of your knee, tilting your hips upward for better access. His mouth returned instantly, pressing his tongue at your entrance again and again, coaxing your wetness into this mouth before swallowing. You could hear him lightly panting through his nose, unwilling to remove his mouth for a proper breath.
The sounds were wet. Absolutely filthy.
He used his leverage to pull your hips into his face, his nose becoming buried and pressing on your clit as his tongue kept trying to dig deeper and deeper.
You were right, he was starving. Relentlessly so.
The pressure was too intense to measure, and you were at his utter mercy.
Your head tilted back to rest on the tree, eyebrows pinching together from the pleasure.
His nose nudged you again, sending sparks around your vision.
“-fuuuck.” It came out choked, your stomach clenching.
Without missing a beat, he dragged his tongue all the way up to your clit again, swirling it around slowly. The scruff on his jaw and neck were scratching at your inner thigh, heightening the awareness of what he was doing to you.
His right hand moved from your hip, while his left remained hooked around your upper right thigh, keeping you upright. While his tongue continued to work you felt his fingers brush across your entrance, slickening them nearly instantly. It sent a shudder through you, feeling the rough skin of his fingertips against the softest part of you.
He was breathing real heavy now, his mouth disconnecting just long enough to breathe and watch what he was doing. His middle finger prodded, pushing in ever so slightly. Your grip on his hair tightening, fisting the strands hard as he continued to slip it in further until his knuckle pressed flush to you. With a gasp, you felt yourself clench around him, and he made a low sound of satisfaction before returning his mouth to you.
His tongue moved torturously slow, creating a circular rhythm with pressure as his finger curled inside you before retreating a bit. He was brushing upwards, pushing on that soft spot like he longed for his mouth to somehow reach there, too.
“Ooh my go-” Your prayer was cut off, breath hitching as you felt him remove his finger slowly, the absence bitter.
It was clear to him how ready you were for it, and it drove any kind of teasing out of his head. He wanted to feel you take it. More of it. He flattened his tongue and took one long drag upwards from your entrance to your clit, suckling it once before releasing.
You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to see him. Pawing at the chemise, you bunched it in one hand until you could see his damp disheveled hair. The sight of him was scandalizing, captivating.
He pulled away from you slowly, amused at your actions. When he tilted his head back to look up at you, his eyes were dark, swimming. Pathetic. It was cute. Maddening.
You ran your free hand through his hair, pulling it back from where it brushed his cheeks. His eyes never left yours as he brought his middle finger to his mouth. It was glistening with your pleasure, as was his mouth and chin. His mouth parted, tongue sticking out so he could eat the slickness off his finger.
“You’re sweet like sugar.” His voice was impossibly low, desperate for more. His gentle eyes branded you with his desire, which was showing itself as a big print in his pants as he knelt there, right where he belongs.
He added his pointer finger into the mix, wetting it with a silent promise. The shaky breath from your parted lips that spread into a dominating smirk was the last thing he saw before returning his gaze to your center.
The feeling of his deep breaths brushing over your skin was excruciatingly sweet, so you took action. Using the bare foot that was dangling off his shoulder and your grip in his hair, you pressed him towards you so his face had nowhere else to go. He hummed into you again as his mouth closed around you, hotter than the sun.
He didn’t waste another moment, his fingers already starting to sink into you as he swirled his tongue. Your gasp turned into a loud moan as he pushed them all the way in, he could feel you clenching briefly as you took it. The sounds made his cock twitch in his pants, begging to be touched.
You needed him to move. Right now.
You rolled your hips against his face, your hand on his head guiding him, grounding him. The tortured groan he made was muffled and needy. He slid his long fingers out just an inch before pushing back in, curling and pushing upward. The rough callouses on his fingers added a deeper layer of pleasure as they glided through you. The hand that was wrapped around your thigh on his shoulder reached and pressed down hard on your lower stomach, right in front of his eyes. This added an intense pressure between both his hands, his fingers pumping in and out and massaging you at a steady pace. This paired with how he changed the pace of his mouth was going to push you over the edge in moments. His flat tongue lapped at your clit relentlessly, slowly.
“Ahh-I…fuck! I-”
He kept his pace exactly the same. He had no mercy.
The fist in his hair pulled even harder, and you know it was bound to hurt him but it didn’t matter. Long, delicious sounds fell from your mouth, and he couldn’t help himself from doing the same. It was undoing him as much as it was to you. His eyes flashed open for a moment to look up through his lashes at you, but the sight of you staring at him while on the brink was enough to make his eyes roll back, closing again.
He wanted to keep devouring you forever, but he knew you needed this release like the desert needed rain. Once he felt your grip tighten again, the thigh on his shoulder starting to shake, he knew you were close. You didn’t have to tell him.
When your other hand raked through his hair, abandoning the chemise, he also felt you starting to clench around his fingers. The feeling shot heat all throughout his body, making his heart pound. All he could think about was how good you would feel clenching around his cock, just like that. He moaned at the thought, continuously, as if he could feel it already.
Your open-mouthed gasps were turning into cries as he slowly sucked the release out of you. Your stomach clenched hard, head lolling back to rest on the tree again as the pressure finally snapped. The electric feeling coursed through every nerve in your body, shocking your system fully.
He felt your core start to clench repeatedly around his fingers as you cried out, fisting his hair painfully hard. The extra wetness started dripping down his chin and palm as you finished against his face, gasping in pleasure as his fingers and tongue finally started to slow their movements. Once he finally felt you stop twitching around his fingers, he slowly removed himself from you. Your grip on his hair loosened, giving him permission to look up at you. He enjoyed the view of your chest rising and falling with deep breaths, your head tossed back, jaw slightly slacked.
He would do anything you wanted now, nothing else mattered anymore.
You started to slip your leg off his shoulder, regaining your balance as best you could. You finally looked down at him and he was reaching to wipe your cum off his chin and neck.
“Wait.” Your voice was breathy, raw.
He froze, eyes flashing with surprise at your command.
“Get up.”
He didn’t hesitate, adjusting his legs so he could stand up in a fluid motion. His upper body stayed bent slightly so he could be close to you. You saw slickness on the scruff on his chin, his face, his neck. You snaked a hand up to rest on the back of his neck and used the leverage to drag your tongue from his adam’s apple upwards, over his jaw and chin, and into his mouth. He choked off a gasp at your action, but it was clear he liked it by the way he moaned into you.
As the kiss deepened, all you could taste was yourself mixed with tobacco and smoke. That combination made heat spread all over again.
He let out a strained groan against you. He was so needy.
You broke the kiss, but kept your face close while moving your hands to pull him somehow closer by his belt buckle. He smiled from the corner of his mouth, probably thinking of what was about to come.
Your hands were dangerously close to the bulge in his pants and you could practically feel the heat from it. You want nothing more in this moment than for him to flip you around and take you from the back like animals, but you had something more fun in mind. He’s too pretty to not see his face the whole time.
He nudged his nose against yours as you unfastened his belt, pulling it loose. His hands found your sides, rubbing his thumbs softly over your waist as he tried to ground himself. His eyes were barely open, unfocusing once you unbuttoned his pants. You hadn’t even touched him yet and he was already panting lightly.
You reached and slowly wrapped your hand around him over the fabric, and his panting stopped. He hissed in a breath when your hand drifted up to brush your thumb over his tip.
“Agh- fuck.” He choked out.
You pressed your lips to his parted ones quickly, then peppered some down his neck before speaking.
“Why don’t you take a seat, rider.” You glanced down to your hand, which was pointing at the base of the tree next to you. His eyes followed yours, understanding what you were asking.
Before you could look back up at him, he pressed a slow kiss to your temple before stepping away to sit where you directed. His hands didn’t leave you as he sat, just slid down your body with him. His back laid back against the tree, his legs crossed under him.
Perfect position.
Good boy.
The way he looked up at you and pulled on the fabric of your chemise was pitiful, but so beautiful, like he was born for it. Like he was sent here just for you.
You smiled at him softly before crouching down to join him. You straddled his crossed legs, sitting on his lap and facing him with your shins on the ground by his hips. His hands were immediately on you, moving slowly on your back and sides as he stared at you, waiting for your next move.
You sat back so you could reach down between you and slip your hand down his pants.
The feeling of your hand on him, lightly stroking him sent his brain into a state of shock. He pressed his face between your clothed breasts as your hand wrapped around his tip. He groaned loudly against you, the sound was glorious as it traveled to your core, reigniting you all over again. You just wanted to hear him make all kinds of noises.
His hands on your back tried to pull you onto him more, but you stayed put, slowly twirling your wrist so your hand rolled over his tip again. There was sticky liquid coming out now, just a little bit. His hips bucked up slightly, pushing through your hand to complete the stroke. You finally tugged down the fabric of his pants and under pants, freeing him.
He was big. Much bigger than you’d had before.
He was breathing hard now against your chest, face still buried. You pushed him back by the shoulder until his back was pressed against the tree again.
“Jean.”
When his eyes met yours, they were totally blown out by pleasure, his mouth parted and wet. Perfect.
You raised your hand that was gripping him to his mouth.
“Spit.”
You felt him twitch under your hips. This was torture for him.
His eyelashes were on display as he looked at your hand, a small puddle of spit leaving his mouth with a wet sound. You lifted the hand to your own mouth, doing the same thing before reaching back down to glide the saliva all over his length. His eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, small sounds slipping out of his throat on each slow stroke. You shifted forward, moving your hands up and onto his shoulders. He got the hint and gripped himself at the base quickly.
The tip of him was brushing against your slickness, you were just as ready as he was. You moved your hips, dragging your clit over him, teasing him. You both made sounds of satisfaction before you moved, repeating the motion.
“-pl-” A small whine cut his voice off. “Please-”
Fuck yes
“Please, what?” You said, making him meet your eyes by using both hands to lightly pull on the long hairs at the nape of his neck. Your noses brushed, breaths mixing. Despite his desperation, he managed to crack a smirk of pure ecstasy as he twitched against you again.
“Please,” he started, his drawl low, blissed. Playing along with your game, matching you. “Make me feel good. Take my everything. Please.” He placed a kiss on your lips, like words would not be adequately convincing enough. He pulled away just barely. “Please.” Another kiss, this time he slipped his tongue against yours before pulling it away. “Please, y/n.”
Hearing him say your name in that desperate voice made you feel like sin itself. It was delicious, devious. And exactly what you needed.
He felt you shift back, he knew this was the moment. You kept your face close to his as you took in the tip of him. The heat and pressure was making you both squirm, the fit was going to be tight. He tried and failed to keep his eyes open to look as you pressed down a little further, then back up slowly. Every curse known to man was threatening to fly out of his mouth.
His size was filling you in a way you did not know possible. The connection was searing hot from his body temperature and the stretch. You wanted more, want to own him.
So you rolled forward before pressing back down, all the way until your heat met his hips. Because of the way his legs were crossed under you, the spur of his boot poked slightly on the back of your thigh. The angle made his tip slide against that soft spot where his fingers were earlier, sending sparks through your nerves, clenching around him.
“-Fuck, wait.” He slid his hands under your chemise so he could hold your hips still, his fingers digging into you as he took a couple breaths. He was still fully inside you, but he slipped his arms around your lower back like a hug before lifting you and his hips up, shifting slightly to sit up more. He placed you back down in his lap before grabbing your hiked up calves and wrapping them around his waist.
This position changed everything. You felt him slide in even further somehow, and he groaned at the feeling. His strong arms continued to support you your back so you could move your hips freely. You used the leverage of your forearms on his shoulders to roll your hips back and forth, taking him in long strokes. Your bodies could not be any closer, not when he was holding you nearly flush against him like this.
Each time you moved to him he would push his hips up to meet yours, creating intense pressure inside. The tip of him was pressing firmly against something deep in you, and the soft cry that left your mouth was evidence that he’d hit the right spot.
“You ta-... you take it so well,” he choked out, finding his voice. You rolled your hips again, looking down at his pretty face.
“Feels so good...” you whispered, continuing your grinding on him. He moaned against your mouth, pulling you closer with his arms around your middle, desperately trying to move his hips more. You just continued to move at that torturous pace, chills spreading through you each time his tip poked at those sensitive spots inside you over and over again.
Your head was swimming, but you kept going, and so did he. His arms around you were practically lifting you completely at some points, his breaths ragged and heavy against your chest. The pain of his spur poking at your thigh each stroke just added another layer of pleasure to the mix, as did the sounds of your clothed bodies moving against each other.
He lifted you slightly before extending his legs a bit under you. They were still bent, and at the perfect place for you to lean your lower back onto them for support. He moved his hands to grip the front of your hips, and your hands reached back past his legs to the grass to prop yourself up on him.
He had a perfect view of you now, completely spread out in front of him. He was freer in this position, so he took the opportunity to fuck into you faster than you had been going, his control was fraying. While you used your legs crossed behind his back to pull yourself down on him, he used his vice grip on your hips to guide you there, each stroke more sweet than the last.
The pressure was building up in you again, and you knew he was hanging on by a thread already.
He released his grip on one hip to move down between you. His thumb grazed lazy, messy circles over your clit.
“Oh… my god, Jean, fuck-”
He moaned quite pathetically at the sound of his name, and you felt the twitching inside you. “That feel good,” he huffed out, not quite a question or a statement.
“Yeah…” You almost didn’t recognize your voice with the way it was giving into him.
“Say- ahhh,” he cut off his own words with a moan as you pushed yourself down on him fully again. “-Say it again.”
“Yeah, Jean.” The praise left your mouth in a whimper, your core was tightening quickly with the pace that his thumb was rubbing you so methodically. He was so lost in the feeling of you, your voice. You had to keep going, to see him lose control.
So you repeated yourself, calling his name with each slick thrust you both made. His eyebrows pinched together, his grip on your hip hard enough to leave bruises.
“God damn me straight to hell,” he barked out with a wobbly, high voice, unlike the low steady one from before. He was about to come undone, but was keeping himself from doing it. You were on the brink too, the pressure between him inside you and his hand was zeroing out any other thoughts than his name. He could feel you clenching around him, and it made his head fall forward for a second, weakening his constitution. “Fuuuuck.” He was panting now, losing it. “You gonna come?”
No words could form, so you just nodded your head, focusing on the pleasure he was giving you. “Look at me,” he said with a roll of his hips. You focused your eyes on his, and the sight of his flushed, fuck-out face pushed you over the edge. A slew of curses left your mouth as he continued to thrust and rub relentlessly. This second orgasm was even stronger than the first, searing pleasure coursing through your whole body as you clenched around him uncontrollably. His pace becoming quicker, sloppier as his own release started to boil over. He quickly pulled you off of him, just enough for him to slip out and spurt thick ribbons of cum onto his clothed stomach. He was moaning nonstop, struggling to keep looking at you, but he tried anyways.The sight of this is something you would probably never forget, borderlining ethereal.
He immediately snaked his arms around your back and pulled you close to his chest. He pressed his face into your neck, taking deep breaths and calming himself down from the frenzy you’d just experienced. His hands were running idle, tender circles across your back affectionately.
You ran your hands through his hair, soothing him and grounding yourself as your body started to relax again.You started to take in your surroundings, having lost total track of time and space besides the two of you under this tree. The sun was lower in the sky, mostly blocked by the taller trees around the area. There was golden light all around you, peaking through the leaves.
Now that you had your bearings again, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, savoring the togetherness. He moved his head up to look at you, something like awe on his face as he smiled at you shyly.
His bashful expression was amusing.
“Don’t go gettin’ all shy on me, now,” you joked, teasing him. He reached one hand up, cupping the side of your face and tracing his thumb across your cheek, so so softly. He cut off your giggles with a claiming kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Despite the teasing, he was smirking against your lips now like there was nothing else that mattered in the whole world.
“I don’t think anythin’ we just did could be considered “shy”,” he chuckled out, looking at you right in the eyes. He had a point.
You ran the hands that were already in his hair through it again, pushing all the strands back so you could see his whole face. He was seriously beautiful, especially just like this.
“Dessert?” You ask, reaching into the discarded basket beside you both. You pulled out a pinky-red apple, perfectly ripe.
He quirked a brow up, but just rolled with it. He shifted slightly under you, reaching down to his boot and pulling something out of it. Your eyes flashed with surprise when you realized what it was; a small carving knife in a leather sheath.
He grabbed the apple from your hand, adjusting his legs again to make his lap more comfortable for you to sit on. He cut a small chunk off of the apple, then held it up to your lips on the tip of the knife.
You opened your mouth to take the bite, purposefully dragging the tip of your tongue across the dull side of the blade.
His smirk changed into something darker, more serious at the sight. Before cutting another piece off, he brought the blade to his own mouth, tongue swiping over where yours had just been.
Absolutely pathetic.
He’s perfect.
He repeated this, feeding you another piece and licking off the knife where your mouth had touched it. He wasn’t paying enough attention to what he was doing as he stared you down, barely even blinking. The sharp tip of the blade slipped across his tongue accidentally, drawing a bit of blood out. He winced slightly, moving the knife away. You caught his wrist with your hand, taking the blade out of his hand as you leaned forward to press a kiss onto his open mouth.
It caught him by surprise, and you didn’t let him think before letting your tongue reach his, licking over the cut. The flavor of you, him, and iron mixed together in a way that sent a rush through you. He hummed while reciprocating the kiss, delighted by your desire to taste him like this.
That is, until he felt the sharp edge of the knife press against the side of his neck. He stilled against you, eyes flying open as he looked at the smug look on your face.
His throat bobbed under the blade, and then his fear turned into amusement as a laugh bubbled out of him, his smile growing. It was a wonderful, infectious sound that caused you to chuckle with him. You finally took the knife away from him, and set it down on the grass.
“You just keep surprisin’ me,” he hummed through a smile. “ Ya know, if it was that bad you coulda just told me instead of tryna stick me.”
You just laughed again, pressing another quick kiss on him. Then another. Then a few more, trailing from his mouth down his jaw towards right below his ear. Once you felt him shudder under you, you finally spoke in a whisper.
“Still wanna spend the night?”
So how we doing chat??
I have a whole other half of this story planned, so comment if you want a part 2!
This was really fun to write, I hope y’all enjoyed it!
♡
