Page 39 of Liberated By the Logger

Love? It’s too soon to feel that emotion, right?

It hasn’t been a day—lust would be a more logical explanation. And yet, here I want to argue it’s more than a sex driven dopamine response.

The way he looks at me, talks to me, interacts with me…there’s more to this budding thing between us. At least, my heart wants to believe there is.

Brose is everything I’ve been searching for, gift wrapped nicely in rugged mountain man form.

Please, I silently beg the universe. For once, let this be the real deal.

I want it to be. I want the happily ever after, and I want it with Brose.

Desperate to feel him, I stop my retreat and reach for him.

Closing the distance between us, Brose takes me by the hips and spins me around. His hard on digs against my ass as he runs his nose along the column of my neck, breathing me in. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I’m starting to,” I admit, arching my back and pushing my ass against his growing length.

He groans like he’s in pain, his hands clenching around my waist. “Starting to, huh? Then let me finish it for ya.”

Using one of his hands, Brose trails his fingers down my body to the hemline of my shirt. My body trembles, anticipating where he’s heading.

Brose slips his hand underneath, brushing feather-light against my sex. I whimper, desperate for more of his touch—something rougher, deeper.

“You sound like you want me,” he husks against my ear, teasing me further.

“I do,” I plead shamelessly, widening my stance to give him better access.

“Tell me. Say what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you inside of me—fingers, tongue, and cock.”

Brose releases another throaty chuckle. “That’s my good, filthy woman, demanding it all.”

His fingers slip between my wet folds, spreading my slick around my most sensitive area. I bite down on my lip, trying to stifle the obscene noises working their way out of my mouth.

He tsks, removing his hand from where I desperately want him. I nearly cry at the loss. He brings his fingers to my face—the same fingers he was using to please me—and tugs down on my lip.

“Stop biting off those little noises, knowing damn well I love hearing you make them. Don’t you dare hold anything back. Now open your filthy mouth for me.”

Parting my lips for him, he shoves his fingers into my mouth, not far enough to choke me, but enough to show me he’s in charge.

“Suck them clean. I want you to taste yourself the way I do.”

Something about his controlled aggression sends my senses into overdrive, like his need for primal dominance awakens my own. I want to please him like he’s pleasing me. I do as he says, sucking two of his large fingers deep into my mouth, tasting my tangy-sweet arousal on him, and humming with approval.

Brose growls in the back of his throat, pleased with my enthusiasm. I nip at his fingertips when he pulls his fingers from my mouth, making him snicker in a deliciously dark way.

“More,” I demand, hungry for whatever he’s serving.

All at once, he lifts me around my middle and he walks us to the bed. Instead of placing me back on the ground, he deposits me in the center of the mattress.

“Get on your hands and knees. Now.”

Scrambling to do as I’m told, I get into position, peeking over my shoulder at him and eagerly waiting for what he does next.

His chest rises and falls quickly as he stares at my almost fully exposed backside, palming his growing erection through his sweats. Without saying a word, Brose flips up my shirt, completely revealing my bottom half to him. The air is cool against my overheated sex and is amplifying my awareness of the slick coating my pussy lips and thighs.

“This pussy is a goddamn masterpiece,” Brose says, palming my mound and making me shudder with need. His fingers run through my wetness, teasing me open. “Fucking drenched for me.”