Page 16 of Falling for the Lumberjack

And holy fuck.

She was glistening, slick and ready. Her pussy was perfect—pink and swollen and so damn wet it made my mouth water. I could see how aroused she was, how much she wanted this. Wanted me.

“Look at you,” I murmured, running my hand up her inner thigh, pushing her legs wider, exposing her completely to my gaze. “So damn pretty, Carter.”

She whimpered, hips lifting toward my hand, seeking contact, seeking relief. Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips swollen from my kisses, her chest heaving with each breath.

“Please.”

The word wrecked me. Broke something open inside me that I’d thought long dead. She wasn’t begging—not quite. But there was a need in her voice that matched my own. A vulnerability I hadn’t expected from someone so fierce. I shoved two fingers into her, groaning at the tight, wet heat that clenched around me. She was so fucking tight, so hot, so perfect it made my head spin.

She moaned, her back bowing, her hands fisting in the sheets. Her inner muscles gripped my fingers, pulling them deeper, her body greedy for more. “More,” she gasped, her hips moving against my hand. “I need more.”

I didn’t make her beg again.

I pressed my thumb against her clit, rubbing slow, tight circles while my fingers pumped deep, hitting her just right. Watching her face, learning what she liked, what made her breath catch, what made her moan louder. She was a mess in minutes, writhing, crying out my name like a prayer and a curseall in one. Her inner walls fluttered around my fingers, her thighs trembling as she approached the edge.

“Landry, I—”

“Come for me, Sally,” I ordered. “Now.”

And she did.

Hard.

Her pussy clamped down on my fingers, her body going rigid, then trembling as she shattered apart beneath me. Her cries filled the cabin, echoing off the walls, mingling with the sound of rain on the roof. I watched every second of it, burned it into my fucking memory. The way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her mouth fell open, the way her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Then I slid my fingers free and, holding her gaze, licked them clean. The taste of her exploded on my tongue, salty-sweet and addictive. Her eyes widened. “You taste even better than I imagined,” I told her.

But I wasn’t done.

Not even close.

I stripped off my jeans and shoved my boxers down, my cock slapping against my abs, thick and hard and aching to be inside her. I kicked the clothes away, standing at the foot of the bed completely naked, letting her look her fill.

Her eyes dropped, and her mouth parted on a shaky exhale. She took in the sight of me—the width of my shoulders, the muscles of my chest, the trail of dark hair leading down to my cock. And then her gaze fixed there, on the evidence of how badly I wanted her.

“Fuck,” she whispered, the word both reverent and hungry.

“Yeah,” I agreed, settling between her thighs. “You ready for me, sweetheart?”

She nodded, biting her lip, her eyes never leaving mine. But that wasn’t enough. I needed to hear it. Needed the words.

“Say it,” I growled, lining myself up, teasing her slit with the thick head of my cock. The feeling of her wet heat against me, so close to where I wanted to be, was maddening. A torture I was inflicting on both of us.

“I want you,” she said, her hands gripping my biceps, nails digging into skin. “I want you inside me, Landry. Now.”

I slammed into her in one hard thrust, seating myself balls deep in her tight, wet heat. The sensation was overwhelming—hot and tight and perfect. Like coming home to a place I’d never been.

Her cry was half pleasure, half shock, and I gave her a second to adjust. To accommodate my size, to get used to the feeling of being filled. I held still, muscles trembling with the effort it took not to move, not to pound into her until we both lost our minds.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground out, bracing myself on my elbows, looking down at her face. She was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache. “So good. Like you were made for me.”

She moaned, lifting her hips to take me deeper, her inner walls clenching around me, making my vision blur. Her legs wrapped around my waist, locking me to her, demanding without words what she wanted.

And then I moved.

Long, hard strokes that had her gasping and begging and scratching at my back. Each withdrawal was a torment, each thrust a relief. The tight grip of her body around mine, the slick heat, the sounds she made... It was too much and not enough all at once.

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