Page 15 of Burly and Rugged

I kiss her like I’ve been starving for it, like I’ve wanted to since the moment I first saw her. I knew I wanted her even before I knew anything about her.

Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt. She clutches me like she needs this as badly as I do and can’t hold back any longer.

I press her back against a tree, pinning her against the rough bark, caging her in with my body. She tilts her head, her gorgeous lips parted, and I take full advantage, deepening our kiss, sweeping my tongue against hers, claiming her the way I’ve been dreaming about.

She’s so soft. So fucking soft. There’s nothing sexier than a woman with meat on her bones, and a lush womanly body is exactly what Lindy has.

And she’s mine.

The frantic edge fades enough for something deeper to take its place.

I slow the kiss, dragging my lips over hers, savoring the way she sighs against my mouth, how her nails dig into my shoulders. I trace my tongue along the seam of her lips, then nip at the corner of her mouth just to hear the way she gasps.

“God, Lindy,” I murmur against her skin.

She shivers against my body as I trail kisses down her jaw, over the curve of her throat. She tilts her head to give me more, her breath shaky, her hands slipping beneath my jacket, clutching at my waist.

Every inch of her curves mold to my body, the heat of her pressing into me making me forget everything else in the world. Lindy is an angel and so damn perfect in my arms.

My cock aches from how badly I need her. Every primal instinct rises in me—bury my cock deep inside her sweet pussy and claim it for my own. Make her know that she’s mine.

Her body arches, her thigh brushing between my legs, and I groan, gripping her hip harder.

Her breath catches, her fingers tightening in my shirt.

“You feel so good,” I mutter against her skin, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of her throat.

She makes a quiet, desperate sound, her hips shifting against mine, and I nearly explode in my pants.

I pull back slightly, searching her face. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes hazy with lust.

“You sure about this?” I murmur, my fingers still tracing slow circles against her hip.

Lindy meets my gaze, and I swear to God, I’ve never seen anyone as wildly beautiful as is.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispers. Lindy’s fingers tighten in my jacket, and she presses her body harder against mine. She grinds her hips over mine, and I groan, my lust for her demanding to be sated.

I drag my hands over the curve of her waist, feeling the heat of her skin through her clothes, feeling the way she trembles under my touch. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything but the sound of her breath, the quiet, needy sounds she makes as my fingers slip beneath the hem of her shirt.

She arches into me, her breath catching as I slowly unbutton her shirt. I watch her face, waiting for hesitation, for second thoughts.

But she looks up at me with wide, blue eyes, lips parted. “More,” she whispers. “Please.”

I groan, my control slipping like sand through my fingers. I pull her undershirt over her head, tossing it aside, barely taking a second to admire the way the moonlight kisses her bare skin before my mouth is on her again.

Her hands move over me just as desperately, yanking my jacket off, then my shirt, her fingers skimming over my chest, my stomach, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. I hiss as she drags her nails over my skin, her touch lighting me up from the inside out.

“You feel…” She breathes the words out like she can’t quite finish the thought.

I catch her wrists, pinning them against the moss as I lower her onto the ground. “How do I feel?” I ask, kissing down the column of her throat, letting my teeth graze her skin just enough to make her shudder.

“Amazing,” she gasps, her back arching as I kiss lower, my hands mapping every inch of her body.

Her skin is impossibly soft, her curves fitting against me in a way that makes my chest ache with longing and primal need. I’m going to die if I don’t have her soon. Yet I want to savor this, take my time, but the caveman in me demands I claim hernow.

She pulls at my belt, hands fumbling in her rush to undo it, her thighs tightening around me and promising luscious satisfaction.

“Lindy,” I groan, grabbing her hands.

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