Page 14 of Falling for the Lumberjack

And those panties…

Blue. Thin. Stretching over her perfect ass like they’d been made for my hands to tear off. I could see the edge of lace at the waistband, delicate against her skin in a way that made my mouth water. Made me want to trace that edge with my tongue, feel the contrast between rough lace and smooth skin.

I’d thought about this. Dreamed about it. Woken up hard and aching with the memory of fantasies so vivid they felt like memories. Wondered what she’d sound like when I got herunder me. How she’d move. How tight she’d feel gripping my cock. If she’d be loud or quiet, demanding or yielding.

But no fantasy came close to this.

To her, here.

Waiting.

I dragged a knuckle over the curve of her hip, slow and deliberate, watching the goosebumps rise in its wake, feeling her shiver under my touch. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, and I wanted to feel every inch of it against mine.

“Carter.” My voice was rough, heavy with the need I’d been choking on for too long. Not just tonight. Not just this morning. For months. Since the first time I saw her standing behind that counter, all attitude and curves and fire.

She turned slowly, those dark eyes finding mine, wide and bright in the firelight. Her lips parted on a breath I wanted to swallow, to taste, to claim as my own. Her hair was a mess, tumbling around her shoulders in waves that begged for my fingers to tangle in them.

I stripped off my shirt in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. The cool night air hit my bare chest, a welcome relief against skin that felt too hot, too tight. Her eyes widened, drinking in the sight of me, and I felt a surge of primitive satisfaction at the hunger in her gaze. At the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, at the way her breath quickened.

My hands went to my belt next, and her gaze dropped, watching me unfasten it with deft, deliberate movements. The leather sliding through the loops made a soft hissing sound that seemed to fill the quiet cabin. Her breath picked up speed, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.

“You’ve got one chance to tell me no,” I said, my tone low. Final. A promise and a warning all at once. “One word and I walk back to that couch.”

Because I needed to hear it. Needed to know she wanted this as badly as I did. That she understood what crossing this line meant. That there would be no going back. No pretending it hadn’t happened. No ignoring whatever this was between us.

Her chest rose on a shaky inhale. Her teeth caught her bottom lip, worrying it in a way that made me want to soothe the sting with my tongue. For a second, doubt flickered through me. A moment of hesitation that felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if I’d fall or fly.

And then she shook her head. Her eyes never leaving mine, challenge and desire burning in their depths. “No.”

My heart stopped for a moment. “No?”

“No, I’m not telling you to stop,” she whispered, her voice husky with need. “I want you to stay right here.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, sending heat surging through my veins. The last thread of my control snapped, torn apart by the raw want in her voice, the invitation in her eyes.

I was going to ruin this woman.

And I was going to love every fucking second of it.

I climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath my weight, crowding her space, bracing my hands on either side of her shoulders. I watched the pulse hammering in her throat, the flush creeping up her chest, turning her golden skin pink. I wanted to mark every inch of that skin. Wanted to leave evidence of my presence on her body that would linger long after this night ended.

“You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?” My voice dropped. “Because I’ve been holding back for too long.”

Holding back feelings I didn’t want to name. Desires I didn’t want to acknowledge. A need that went deeper than lust, ran hotter than simple attraction.

She reached up, her fingers sliding over my jaw, tracing the stubble that roughened it. Her touch was gentle, curious, herthumb grazing my lower lip in a way that made my cock throb. “Then don’t hold back.”

Fuck.

That was it.

That was all I needed.

I slammed my mouth to hers, claiming her in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and filthy, desperate need. She met me with a hunger that nearly knocked me on my ass. No hesitation, no shyness. Just pure, undiluted want. Her nails scraped over my shoulders, digging in, pulling me closer like she couldn’t get enough. Like she’d been starving for this as long as I had.

“Fuck, Sally,” I groaned against her mouth, biting at her bottom lip, soothing the sting with my tongue. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“I think I do,” she whispered, and then she moaned, a sound that went straight to my groin. She lifted her hips to rub against me, seeking friction, seeking relief from the ache I knew was building between her thighs. Her pussy pressed against the hard line of my cock, separated by two thin layers of fabric.

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