Page 95 of Jealous Lumberjack

Brandon made like a chicken and bailed the second he heard we were coming. Shame. I’d have liked to finish throttling the fucker, especially after the hissy fits he’d been throwing about wanting more of Lily’s business. But she wanted it done clean, so she tossed him a few thousand more than the asshole deserved just to close the door for good.

When the last box went into the truck and she signed the papers at her attorney’s office, she didn’t look back. Not once.

And fuck, I loved her so hard in that moment my ribs hurt.

“Home?” I asked her then.

Her curls bounced. “With a few more memorable stops on the way?”

I kissed the mouth I ensured was permanently swollen from my attention. “Absolutely.”

And now here we are—one memorable stop away from taking my girl up the ass for the first time.

A five-star hotel, six hours from our mountain.

Floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a city she used to think she wanted, a deep whirlpool bath still steaming from where I prepped her, and my Lily kneeling on crisp white sheets, glistening with the baby oil she smuggled in her purse.

Her green eyes sparkle over her shoulder. Pretty cunt slick, pink rosette winking at me like a dare.

“Take what’s yours, Bear.”

Fuuuuuck.

I’m on my knees behind her, palms shaking as I stroke over the soft swell of her hips. “Just the tip?” I rasp, my voice raw.

Her laugh is a tremor, breathless. “Whatever you want. We’ve never been conventional.”

I push forward, slow, working one thick finger, then two, easing her open, kissing her shoulder as she trembles. She’s stilltight, still perfect. When I press my cock to her rosette she gasps, then braces, brazen.

“You’re so tiny,” I groan, sweat dripping down my spine. “So small, and yet you take me so good. My perfect Goldilocks.”

She whimpers at the nickname, arching. “Maybe you should call me that now.”

“Maybe I should marry you while I do it,” I mutter before my brain catches up.

Her head snaps around, green eyes wide. “What?”

I reach forward, slip a massive diamond onto her finger. It’s heavy, simple, no bullshit. It gleams against her oil-slick skin.

“You said it. We’ve never been conventional, baby,” I growl, pressing in another glorious inch as she cries out. “It was this or ask you to be mine forever while I hurled you around in my ring. Figured, why start now? Marry me, petal.”

She screams, a sound that’s half yes, half orgasm, pushing back on me until she’s full. Finally full.

“Yes! Yes, Bear!”

I surge in deeper, ramming another inch, stars exploding behind my eyes as she clamps around me. She rides the wave, keening, clutching the headboard with one hand and staring at the diamond on the other.

“I love you,” she gasps, trembling. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” I snarl against her neck, pumping into her with slow, claiming thrusts. “More than I knew a man could love.”

She shudders, coming again, her perfect Goldilocks hole milking me until I roar, spilling into her with everything I am.

We collapse forward, tangled in oil and sweat and sheets, her hand trembling as she stares at the ring.

“Say yes,” I pant, forehead pressed to hers. “Say yes, petal.”

Her lips curve, eyes glassy but fierce. “Yes, Bear.”