Page 7 of My Forbidden Mountain Man (Summer in the Pines #1)

Violet

I made up my mind earlier today. All it took was a turtle-paced conversation between Noah and me. In the middle of it, as if they thought my mind would be changed, a text from Jeremy had popped in, apologizing .

It’s too much effort to get back a guitarist he insisted was easily replaceable. It was also what I needed to realize something that was obvious.

In this whole shitstorm of abandonment, there’s been exactly one person whose eyes never wavered from me. Not my bandmates, who barely lifted a finger when I quit. Not my mother, who still sends my calls to voicemail.

Just him.

The man currently gripping himself like he’s physically restraining his body from sinking deep into my pussy with one solid thrust, his cock as impressive as the rest of him. The veins in his forearm stand out with the effort of staying still, but his gaze?

Locked on me.

Unwavering. Starving.

Logan won’t throw me away or give up on me once he has gotten his fill. No, he looks like his hunger is endless, an empty chasm that goes on forever. Or, however long the rest of our lives are.

Hips twitching, I part my swollen lips to show him just how wet I am. Not just because of my earlier release, but because he’s the one making me this wound up.

“I’ve imagined you like this every night you’ve stayed here.” His breathing is uneven as he continues to stroke himself. His fingers grow more slick, matching mine. “Before then, too.”

The confession falls past his lips like he doesn’t realize he’s said it. It’s not until my face gives away my surprise that he pauses, cursing under his breath.

“You’ve thought of me before?” The words come out slowly, cautiously.

Over the last few years, I assumed Logan forgot all about me. Hell, he didn’t have a reason to keep a place for me in his mind.

With his free hand, he gives one of my knees a squeeze. “Shit, I wanted to tell you this on a better occasion. Not while you’re spread open for me.”

The air between us thickens as he drags a hand through his hair, grip tightening like he might tear it out.

“When you stopped sending tickets,” he says, voice scraping raw, “I—.”

A harsh laugh escapes him, more pain than humor. It’s almost like he’s ashamed of himself.

“I still found ways to watch. Jaclyn never gave a damn, so I…I needed to be there. Even if it was just through some shitty livestream or recording, that’s how it started.

I wanted to give you my support. Then one night, my support turned into an excuse.

Something I wanted to do suddenly turned into a need. ”

His words hit like a physical touch, skimming down my spine. He keeps talking—halting, stumbling—painting me in compliments that feel like worship. My ink, the way I wear my hair now, how my body filled out in all the right places.

Each admission spills out like a confession dragged from his chest, his voice growing rougher with every fractured sentence. From telling me about how his support morphed into something more forbidden and frowned upon.

He’s almost two decades older than I am. Even if I was an adult at the time, our relationship made things complicated. His addiction grew even more after the divorce, his shackles free.

Logan has wanted me for years, and I haven’t had the slightest clue. And now, he’s making it seem like a curse more than a blessing.

He presses the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. “This is—I know it’s wrong. Ruined the mood, didn’t I?”

Ruined it?

My pulse hammers everywhere at once. He’s still hard against my thigh, heat radiating through his jeans, and I just had him—the man who has haunted my dreams ever since I found him in such a rough state—unraveling over me like I’m something precious.

I reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face.

“The only thing you’re ruining,” I say, thumb stroking his racing pulse, “is my ability to think straight.”

He blinks once before his throat bobs. “You mean that?”

“Every word. Seriously.” Dragging my hand away from his wrist, I listen to his hiss as my fingertips graze the tip of his weeping head.

“You’re not the only one who’s bad. When you first opened your door, those first ten seconds?

I wanted this. I wanted it badly . Every second I spent with you, I wanted your hands on me. You think that’s normal?”

My admission makes him crack a smile. “I used to look better.”

A click of my tongue echoes between us as I shiver, dragging the thick length of him against my slick, aching folds. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and we both groan—a ragged, shared sound that vibrates in the charged air between us.

“I’ve got a thing for the wild look,” I murmur, my voice husky with want. “Very caveman-like. Like you want to pin me against whatever surface is near and give in to your wild side.”

The words hang between us, thick with implication, and his lips curl into a wicked grin that mirrors mine. Before I can tease him further, he brushes my hand aside, taking control with a possessive growl. His fingers dig into my hip, anchoring me to him as his other hand guides his cock deeper.

“Violet,” he rasps, his voice rough with restraint, “I do want to do that. A lot.”

A hoarse chuckle escapes him, but it’s short-lived—his brows knit together, his jaw tightening as he fights for control. The veins in his arms stand out as he begins to sink into me, inch by torturous inch.

“Every day I’ve spent with you has been torture, holding myself back. I wanted to wait until you wanted me as much as I wanted you.” His hips snap forward, seating himself fully inside me, and my back arches with a gasp. “If I’d known you’d wanted me as soon as you showed up…”

The rest of his words dissolve into a groan as his mouth crashes against my throat, teeth scraping over my pulse point. I whimper, my nails biting into his shoulders as he sucks hard, marking me.

The sharp sting melts into liquid heat, and my hips roll instinctively, seeking more—more friction, more of his touch, more of him. His thrusts grow relentless, each one driving me closer to the edge, and I can feel the possessive rumble in his chest as he murmurs his claim against my skin.

Then his grip shifts—one hand slides down, fingers digging into the back of my knee as he hitches my leg higher, lifting me with effortless strength. The angle changes, and when he drives into me again, it’s deeper, harder, stealing the breath from my lungs.

“Fuck—” His curse is rough, ragged, as his pelvis grinds against mine, the deliberate roll of his hips dragging his length against every sensitive inch inside me. The pressure is maddening, his body working in slow, deliberate circles now, the base of him rubbing against my clit with every thrust.

The sound of skin on skin is obscene—wet, slick slaps, the creak of the bed beneath us, the ragged hitch of our breaths mingling in the air. Sweat glistens on his chest, on the tense lines of his abdomen, and I can feel it between us, hot and slick, as our bodies move together.

“You feel that? Every fucking inch of you takes me so well—” He growls out the words, his voice raw with need.

So this is what he’s like when he loses control? Sign me up for seconds. No, thirds .

His fingers tighten on my thigh, holding me open as he fucks into me with slow, deep strokes, teasing me by dragging out the tug and pull of my sensitive nerves.

“I want you to come like this, with me buried inside you, feeling every pulse of you around me.” Panting the demand, he punctuates his words with each thrust.

Gasping, heat floods my system with every word he speaks. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a partner who has told me what he wanted like this. Logan demands it, making the experience so much hotter.

The coil inside me winds tighter, pleasure sparking white-hot with every deliberate drag of his body against mine. My vision blurs at the edges, stars bursting behind my eyelids as the pressure builds, as his rhythm turns punishing, relentless—

And then I’m shattering, my back bowing off the bed as pleasure crashes through me, wave after wave, my cry muffled against his shoulder as he groans, his own release following close behind.

Logan’s grip tightens on my hips, lifting me with effortless strength until there’s no space left between us—until he’s buried so deep I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. His voice is rough, commanding, every word sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

“Take it,” he growls, his thrusts deliberate, unrelenting. “Every fucking drop.”

The stretch is exquisite, the fullness overwhelming as he drives into me, each snap of his hips filling me with his release.

My fingers dig into his shoulders, my breath coming in ragged gasps as pleasure coils tighter, tighter—until I arch helplessly, my nails scoring his skin as he pulses inside me, his rhythm stuttering as he spills deep, and our breaths mingle in the charged air between us.

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing but the two of us, the aftershocks, the raw, unfiltered rightness of it—before he finally stills, his body heavy and satisfied against mine.

“You have no idea how hot that was.” Panting the compliment, my poor pussy flutters around his invasion. Seemingly not ready to pull out, I don’t think I’m ready for it either.

Feels too good for him to pull away. Unfortunately, he only lingers for a couple of minutes before he’s sitting up.

His hands move to my hips, and he gently massages my muscles. “Lost myself a bit there.”

“You have my permission to do that whenever you want to.” Swiping at the sweat on my brow, I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of me. “That goes for tomorrow, or the next day, or the next…”

Logan suddenly goes still, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “What about the band?”

I exhale slowly, my eyes flicking to the ceiling as if the answer might be written there.

“I got kicked once. This time, they were unprepared. Who’s to say they won’t come back with a better plan next time?

” My voice wavers, betraying the fear I’ve been trying to bury.

“But… I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that with you. Right?”

The slightest hint of doubt, and I’m undone.

Logan’s frown deepens, and he shifts, his cock slipping out of me, leaving behind an aching emptiness. But before I can mourn the loss, he’s pulling me against his chest, his arms banding around me like steel.

“I spent days telling myself I’d let you go, but now? Now that I know how you feel, now that I’ve had you like this?” His grip tightens, possessive and unyielding, his voice rough. “Someone’s gonna have to pry you from my fucking hands if they want you.”

The words send a shiver down my spine, equal parts thrill and relief. Then his mouth crashes down on mine, claiming me all over again, his kiss so deep and consuming that it makes my head spin. When he finally pulls back, his eyes burn into me. “Do you understand?”

I nod, breathless, and drag him back for another kiss, pouring every ounce of my need into it. His body presses me into the mattress, solid and unshakable, and for the first time in too long, I don’t just feel safe—I feel his .

It’s the most solid footing I’ve had in what feels like ages. The future might still be uncertain, but with Logan beside me, it doesn’t feel so daunting. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. Knowing I won’t have to navigate the fog alone is the surest ground I’ve stood on in years.

It’s something I won’t be giving up anytime soon.