Page 34 of Liberated By the Logger

To prove his point, Brose saws in and out of me—slow, but steady. He’s able to reach places my body has been longing for, building a fire deep in my core.

It feels good, really fucking good. We’ve barely started and my insides are already quivering.

“Your tits are the perfect palm size,” Brose husks, his rough hands slipping between us to kneed them. He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, making me cry out with pleasure. He flicks the tip of my nipple with his tongue until it’s a stiff peak before moving on to do the same to the other. “Perfect mouthful, too.”

My fingers work their way into his ruddy hair, holding him to my breasts.

When Brose has decorated my chest with mottled marks, he slowly kisses his way up my neck, along my jaw, until he’s an inch away from my lips. His gaze is heated, capturing my attention. Something in my heart ripples, like it’s finally awoken. And it’s all because of this man.

“Do you feel that?”

I’m feeling A LOT of things at the moment, but I gather he’s not referring to us having sex.

He takes one of my hands, bringing it flat to his chest, right above his heart. “Do you feel it?”

His heart thunders under my palm, much like the storm outside. The connection has my heart skipping to fall in line with his, like we were always meant to be in sync.

“We match,” I say, my voice raw with awed emotion.

“We’re a pair, Aspen. We’re meant to be.”

“Brose…” Needing him closer, I wrap my arms around him.

He sinks against me, one hand cupping the back of my neck and the other gripping the back of my knee, hiking my leg upward to give him more access.

“Aspen.” He plunges deeper into me, catching my lips as I moan.

All sweetness melts into raging desire. Brose’s hips buck against me, wild and harder. I cock my pelvis to meet him thrust for thrust. My nails rake down his back, sure to leave red marks. His fingers dig deep enough to leave bruises on my skin.

Brose’s guttural grunts are music to my ears, letting me feel safe enough to not hold back mewls of pleasure as he continues to nail the secret spot hidden deep inside my pussy. His kisses turn demanding, nipping at my lips and sucking on my tongue. There’s no use in trying to keep up when I’m willing to let him lead. All I can do is let him take his fill and get swept away in the desire pulsing closer to the surface.

Sweat builds around my neck and chest the faster we fuck, but the finish line is in sight. My pussy clutches around him a few times with the anticipation rising.

“I’m.” Pant. “Close.”

“Me too, darlin’,” Brose growls, sending delightful shivers down my spine. He presses his forehead against mine, staring deep into my soul. “Fucking come for me, Aspen. You come for your man—now!”

His demand sends me right over the edge. My back arches off the floor as my pussy locks up before having a full-blown spasm attack. I scream through my release, my body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure endorphins torpedo through my veins.

“BROSE!”

My mountain man goes full feral, rutting me into the floor. His thrusts come faster, his grip tighter. Sweat drips from his chest onto mine with each punch of his hips. The veins in his thick neck are taut from his efforts. And the wild, intense look in his eyes as he stares at me has me entranced.

A fierce roar rips through Brose’s lungs as he buries himself to the hilt inside of me. Heat floods my pussy in wet warmth.

Something about him having spent himself inside of me—something I’ve never allowed another man to do—has me turning feral in response as I lock my ankles around his waist. He’s not going anywhere if I can help it. If this means I get knocked up with this wild man’s baby, so be it.

Exhausted, Brose pants heavily against the crook of my neck. He rests his weight on one of his forearms so as not to crush me. Blissed out of my mind, I rub lazy circles into his back, purring like a cat in heat.

“That was amazing,” I say with a sated grin.

“You’re amazing,” Brose counters, capturing my mouth with his.

“I feel I’ve made a mess of your fur rug.”

“Mmm,” Brose hums, rubbing my nose with his. “Sounds like my dirty girl needs to get cleaned up. Aftercare time.”

Brose slowly eases out of me, making us groan at the loss. Wetness pools between us—evidence of what we did. I try to hang on to him, not wanting to let him go as he pulls back.