The second night there was no storm to blame. We both knew exactly why I was still in his cabin. The rain had stopped, the trail was clear, but neither of us mentioned leaving.
After a simple dinner of canned stew and whiskey by the fire, Ryan didn’t wait. He pushed his chair back, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to the kitchen counter. In one smooth move he spun me around, bent me over the wooden surface, and flipped my skirt up. I wasn’t wearing panties — I’d “forgotten” them on purpose. Cool air hit my already soaked p***y.
“Greedy girl,” he growled, dropping to his knees behind me. “You’ve been dripping for me all day, haven’t you?”
Before I could answer, his mouth was on me. He spread my ass cheeks wide and licked me from c**t to tight little hole in one long, slow drag. His beard
