Page 45 of Jealous Lumberjack

His head jerks—but then he groans.

Groans. His cock swells in his jeans, visible,obscene.

Mouthwatering.

I thought yesterday, hitting him while he fucked me on his rock, was a fluke, but turns out it’s not. He likes the rough treatment.

And me? Oh God, I’m depraved.

Why the hell does it turn me on when violence is... abhorrent?

Before I can think deeply about it, I slap him again, furious and terrified.

He growls, grabs my wrist. “Again.”

“No!” My voice shakes.

What’s happening? Who am I?

Disappointment flashes across his face. For once, he looks almost vulnerable.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “Violence... I...” My ex’s voice hisses in my head—You’re broken. You crave the wrong things because something’s wrong with you.

He sees the panic, the way I tremble, and his hand tightens on my wrist. Walks me back until my bare ass hits the lid of his trunk. Touches the objects of his fame and fortune. “It’s not wrong if we both like it, petal.”

I shake my head. “I’ve been here five days. And I don’t... didn’t even know your name until like five minutes ago. This... this is insane.”

“Knox,” he breathes. “My name is Knox.”

I laugh, and it emerges shaky as fuck. “I know that now, Knox.”

His eyes darken, and he shakes his head. “But I prefer Bear.” His voice almost pleads, and something cracks inside me, bleeding away the hurt.

Making my hand uncurl, I rise and stroke his thick jaw. “I like Bear too.”

A sound rumbles low, primal through him, and my pulse skitters.

“Show me then, petal. Show me how much you like it.”

I launch myself at him. My mouth collides with his, messy, desperate. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”

He growls into the kiss, lips devouring mine. “Don’t apologize for something I fucking loved.”

He hauls me against his chest, mouth hot, hands rough, grinding my wet, sore, and throbbing center down against his cock. I feel how hard he is, how thick, and I whimper into his mouth.

The belt drops to the floor with a thud as he pushes me back against the closet wall.

He rips my T-shirt up, exposing me, baring me, and I should be ashamed of my needy, shameless wetness. But his eyes burn like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He frees himself, cock heavy and leaking, pressing at my entrance. My breath stutters as fear mingles with molten, desperate want.

“Just the tip again?” he rasps, voice raw. “I know you’re sore, baby, but I need inside you. So fucking bad.”

I nod, trembling. “Yes, come inside me, Bear.”

With a long, animal grunt, he pushes in, thick head breaching me, stretching me wide. I cry out, nails clawing at his shoulders.

My walls spasm around him. My back arches. He thrusts deeper, still holding back most of his size, but enough to make me see stars.