Page 72 of Jealous Lumberjack

I land hard, but the burn—the shock of it, of knowing I’m experiencing something only a handful of people in this world would?—

It’s so unimaginably good.

“Are you okay?” His hoarse voice cracks, anxious, thick with worry.

He’s towering over me, shoulders heaving, eyes scanning my body like he expects to see me broken.

I blink as the air rushes back into my lungs and laugh breathlessly.

The feeling of being hurled through the air is… indescribable.

Pure adrenaline, pure abandon, purehim.

“Again,” I gasp, my chest rising fast.

Now it’s his turn to blink. His face hardens, but I see the worry flare again in his dark eyes. “Petal?—”

“No.” I roll to my knees, hair sticking to my damp face, grinning up at him. Then I cock my hand back and slap him. Hard. “Again.”

Something shifts in his chest—relief, disbelief, hunger. All tangled together.

Then he growls. Loud. The sound rattles through the pulsating music, shooting straight through me to the rafters.

I take advantage of his hesitation, darting forward, surprising him with a sweep of my leg. He doesn’t fall, but he stumbles, eyes narrowing as if I just insulted his bloodline.

“You little fucking adorable menace,” he snarls.

I giggle—until he lunges.

I fly at him again.

He catches me, and we crash to the mat, his weight caging me, every inch of him solid and unyielding. I writhe beneath him—not because I want to get away, but because the friction makes me dizzy. My cheap cotton panties ride up, so I deliberately hike them higher, framing my pussy lips in an obscene way.

He sees it, and the sound he makes—feral, guttural—makes me wetter instantly.

“Petal.” His voice rumbles like thunder. “Don’t play games you can’t win.”

“Then prove I can’t,” I taunt, arching my hips into him as I slowly lick my lips.

He surges to his feet, hauls me up, and slams me gently but firmly against the ropes, biceps flexing like tree trunks. He poses for me—spreads his chest, rolls his shoulders, lets me see every inch of the beast I’ve caught.

My pulse trips, and my thighs squeezehard.

God, he’s beautiful when he roars.

“Want me like this?” he demands, looming over me. “The Grizzly? The man they all wanted to tame?”

I hook my fingers into the waistband of my panties, tug them tighter so they cut across my swollen clit, spreading my thighs so he can’t miss how sopping wet I am. For him. “I want all of you. My Bear.”

His jaw snaps tight, like my words hit something he can’t control.

Then I do something reckless. Something stupid.

I dart toward the duffel bag I’d noticed in the corner earlier, yank out a small bottle I’d tucked in after snooping.

Baby oil.

He spins around to catch me, but he freezes now, his eyes widening as I pop the cap and pour it over my chest and stomach, slicking his vest until it clings to me like wet paint. The cotton goes transparent, nipples dark and proud beneath it.