Page 73 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

Why is it so important that he does?

Maybe because I need him to understand, need to convince him that all the fighting since I got here has been a buildup to this. That this was inevitable. That I felt that same spark with him the first time we met.

I may not have knownwhatit was. I may have mistaken it for fear, but it was there all the same. Simmering under the surface. Arcing between us every time we were together. Threatening to combust if he didn’t keep dousing it every chance he got.

His eyes open and meet mine, and I slowly start sinking down on him. His lips part, and a strangled groan slips from them as his body goes rigid under me.

I take him inch by inch, on a long, slow glide, allowing his thick length to stretch me wide and fill me completely. My breath catches, and I squeeze around him, drawing him deeper.

His grip on my hips tightens, like he’s using them to ground himself into the moment somehow. My body trembles, and I finally take him all the way to the hilt, grinding my clit against his pelvis to get the friction I need in exactly the right spot.

“God, Lyla…”

I capture his gasp with another kiss and clench around him again, then slowly lift myself up so I can sink down and begin a languid rhythm that will hopefully bring us both the release we crave.

He grits his jaw, watching me shift back and move on him, his entire body so tense it looks like he’s about to snap. The heat building inside me threatens to do the same—combust into something that will light both of us aflame.

I increase my pace slightly, bracing my hands on his rock-hard chest, and he shifts his hands up the back of my shirt and along my spine. Goosebumps break out over my skin at the rough calluses dragging along my skin, and he tugs me down fully against him, taking my mouth again in a searing kiss that finally starts to hint at the connection we have.

Because he doesn’t just kiss me.

He eats me alive.

He devours all the reservations I had about being here, all the concerns about what the future with him will be like, all the worries about the things I don’t know and what they might mean.

He makes it all go away in an instant.

Then he rolls his hips and thrusts up, meeting me every time I come down, burying himself even deeper. I gasp, pulling away from his mouth, and he follows me, capturing the sound like he doesn’t want to miss anything.

Every advance and retreat.

Every roll and arch of my hips.

Every move I make is designed to bring him something he hasn’t had in so long—release.

Of the guilt he carries over whatever happened.

Of his confusion and frustration over our situation.

Of the demons that chased him up here so many years ago.

Of the pain he seems to relish living with.

He needs to release it all.

And I do, too.

I need to forgive myself for what happened, keep moving forward without the things that try to pull me back taking too much control. I need to forgive myself for agreeing to marry Silas for money, for doing whathadto be done.

Silas closes his eyes and shakes his head, like he’s fighting what his body wants. His grip on me tightens again as he moves back to my hips to help me set a faster rhythm. “Lyla, I can’t. I’m going to—”

I grind my clit against his pelvis, getting the perfect friction to ignite an inferno building between my legs. “It’s okay, Silas.”

Close.

So close.

I keep pushing myself up and thrusting back down, harder and harder, his hips rising to meet mine each time in the most delicious way, until I finally start to see stars on the edges of my vision.

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