Sunburnt Country — Cecilia Ryan

A low wolf whistle startled Emma, which in turn startled Persephone, but not enough to get her to move through the patch of salt bush she’d decided was the ideal resting place. Stubborn creature. Emma’s shoulder’s slumped, and she gave up trying to drag the horse away, since there was no way she’d escape him now.

“Bugger off, Jack,” she called out without looking back, annoyed that he’d caught her having trouble with his horse again.

“Now, now. That’s no way for a young lady to talk. What would your father say if he heard you say that?” Jack was much closer than Emma had thought, close enough now that Emma could feel the heat of his body behind her. She huffed and leaned against Persephone, cursing the horse for a traitor.

“Probably about the same as he’d say if he knew what you were thinking.”

Jack chuckled lowly and put a hand on Persephone’s neck, effectively trapping Emma. He smelled of dust and horses, and the thin vest he wore under his open shirt was soaked through with sweat. Emma wet her lips unconsciously at the sensation of having his much larger body so close, close enough to feel the heat of the desert rolling off it, even though he couldn’t have been outside for more than fifteen minutes. “He’d shoot me if he knew what I was thinking. You didn’t just run off without a guide so I’d have to catch you, did you?”

“I might have done.” Emma turned around to smile pleasantly. “I would have taken a faster horse if I really wanted to get away by myself, don’t you think?”

“Oi, that’s my horse you’re talking about. She’s just smart enough not to listen to you.” Jack petted Persephone’s neck gently, ignoring Emma for the moment in favour of his mare. As much as Emma wanted to be upset about coming second to a horse, Jack’s quiet way with them was definitely an attractive quality.

“She really is your mistress, isn’t she, Jack?” Emma teased.

“Lot less trouble than a mistress. She’s happy with clean water and a warm place to sleep. Now, a mistress, she’d want all kinds of things. And I’d have to have a wife, first. Too much like hard work.”

Having seen to the horse’s wellbeing, Jack removed his hat and dropped it on Emma’s head. He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but it stuck out in all directions anyway. He needed a hair cut, but he was never going to get one unless someone tied him to a chair and forced him. Not that the idea of tying him to a chair was an awful one.

“What about a lover, then?” Emma suggested. Jack, she thought, would make the perfect lover; he might have lacked the cultured civility of the gentlemen she was normally encouraged to mingle with, but what was the point of coming out to such a wild country as Australia if you couldn’t enjoy a little ruggedness. Besides which, being unlike the country club crowd was a positive thing, as far as Emma was concerned. It was a miracle they hadn’t kicked her out.

“Haven’t you got a bloke back in England?”

“Harold is boring. And decidedly unimpressive, doubly so once he takes his clothes off. I’m out here in the hopes that he might give up on me in my absence and go bother someone else. Daddy thinks he’d be good for me. I’d much rather stay out here while he’s still after me.”

“While you have it off with the help, you mean?”

“Isn’t that what the help are for?” Emma arched an eyebrow. Persephone snorted, as if in agreement. Perhaps she was a smart horse after all.

“Charming,” Jack replied, a trace of hurt just perceptible in his tone. He pulled himself up onto Persephone’s back, posture annoyingly natural even without a saddle, and held out his hand.

“We can’t just keep dancing around each other forever, Jack,” Emma pointed out as she used his strong arm to pull herself onto the horse in front of him. “Don’t you fantasise about creeping into my bedroom of a night and tearing my clothes off?”

“I think you’ve got us confused. That’s what you fantasise about,” Jack corrected with laughter in his voice. “You know, if you were a dog, we’d have you fixed.”

“But I’m not a dog,” Emma argued. She wriggled back to take full advantage of the fact that Jack had little choice but to hold on to her.

“Which is why we haven’t,” Jack whispered in her ear. A moment later, his lips touched Emma’s neck feather-lightly. “You sure about this?”

Grinning, Emma wriggled back again firmly and settled herself more comfortably. “You’ve changed your tune very quickly, Jack.”

“Nah. Just playing coy. Thought one of us should, for the sake of respectability. But like you say, we can’t keep dancing forever.”

Jack gripped Emma’s thigh firmly and slowed Persephone down to walking speed. Slowly but surely, he flicked open the buttons of her fly until he could move his hand under them, and began stroking the crease where her thigh met her body with rough fingertips that sent sparks running in all directions over the surface of her skin. Emma melted back in to his solid chest and closed her eyes, relaxing at the gentle touch.

“You’ve done this before,” she sing-songed.

“So have you,” Jack chuckled. “You gonna tell me the rules?”

“There aren’t any rules. Except that if I say no, you stop.”

Emma moved her hand to join Jack’s, moving it to slide under the soft cotton of her underwear so there was nothing between her flesh and Jack’s fingers. “I don’t suppose you know how to pleasure a woman without ramming your cock into her.”

“You’re baiting me,” Jack said, clearly aware of what was going on here.

“Yes. But you still need to prove me wrong, now that I’ve brought it up.”

Jack hummed softly next to her ear and let his fingertip hover just over where Emma wanted it, so that she could feel the warmth, but not the touch. As frustrating as it was, she was impressed with Jack’s attentions so far. He obviously realised that this was a game for two, and he wasn’t about to be beaten. Emma wriggled excitedly at this confirmation that she’d been right about Jack’s suitability as a lover. She could feel him hard against her, but making no attempt to satisfy himself at all.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured. Emma complied out of curiosity, and gasped at what she saw. They were moving along near the edge of a steep drop, more than far enough away to be safe, but that wasn’t what startled her. Out ahead, the ‘sunburnt country’ she’d read about in a poem as a little girl stretched far and wide, as far as the eye could see, and disappeared into grey-blue mountains that looked like they’d been painted on to the skyline with an enormous brush.

It was a view she’d seen before, on her way to the homestead, but not since, and not like this. Just as she recovered from the surprise of the view, Jack gave in and made a first, tentative touch at her most sensitive place, making her gasp again. She grinned at the thought that this would be the first time she’d done this with such a spectacular view.

“You’re not going to want to take me back to England and civilise me, are you?” Jack asked with mild horror, apparently just having thought of the possibility.

Emma rolled her eyes and rocked her hips, happy enough to take what she wanted if he was going to stall. “If you’re not careful, I’ll take the horse and make you walk back.”

Jack laughed quietly and pressed his fingers firmly against her, moving his other hand around to splay on her stomach and hold her close and still. “Have it your way. But you’re not taking me with you when you go back.”

“We’ll see,” Emma said confidently. Before she could continue with hypothetical plans to take him home with her after her holiday, Jack apparently remembered what he was supposed to be doing, and took up a firm massaging action, making long strokes that left her wanting to rock in to them, but unable to do so while he was holding her still. Emma caught herself moaning softly, completely without intending to, and decided that if she couldn’t take him back with her, a longer holiday would be in order.

Between Jack’s fingers and the rhythmic rocking of a moving horse, Emma’s first orgasm tore through her after only a few minutes of teasing. Jack kissed her neck softly as she caught her breath, and then before she’d fully recovered, pressed a thick, rough finger inside her and began searching for sensitive areas there, as well, still with his thumb pressed firmly to the knot of flesh there and making small, slow circular motions over it. His grip on her eased a little, and Emma took the opportunity to buck forward, encouraging him to add a second finger and riding them eagerly, speeding towards a second orgasm within such a sort space of time that even she was impressed that her body was up to it. She paused just before she came, a tiny mewl breaking free from her lips, and then relaxed to enjoy the mellower flow of the second round.

Ever the gentleman, Jack wiped his fingers on her jeans after he removed them.

“Thanks,” she rolled her eyes again.

“You’re welcome,” Jack chirped pleasantly.

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know. Wouldn’t kill you to be grateful, though,” he suggested as though it wasn’t particularly important.

“Grateful is for people who haven’t earned it. I have, after three weeks of trying to convince you.” Emma relaxed happily against Jack’s chest again, taking in the landscape lazily now as he turned Persephone back towards the homestead.

“I see,” Jack replied in a very serious tone. “I suppose you’re going to want me to do that again later?” He added with a long-suffering sigh that was clearly put-on.

“Does this mean you do want to sneak into my room and tear my clothes off?” Emma teased.

“You’ll find out tonight, won’t you?”

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Read Cecilia’s other sexy stories published on Every Night Erotica, here.

Cecilia Ryan just writes down what the people in her head tell her to.