Page 122 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

I hold her hip with one hand and bring the other to her face. I cup her cheek, and I look at her face—she is so fucking pretty. Beautiful really.

Every bit of this moment feels incredible. But I can’t wait any longer.

“You ready for me, Trouble?”

She nods.

And in my soul, I thank God.

Then, when we finally do move it’s together.

And it’s not frantic.

Not desperate.

It’s so much more than that.

It’s deliberate.

My gaze is locked on her hazel gold eyes—her pupils fucking blown.

She’s so goddamn pretty. Sexy. Gorgeous.

Her body sucks mine deeper inside.

Like her pussy is drowning me.

Like her flesh can’t bear to let mine go.

Heat builds slow and steady.

Like the fire in a hearth.

Her nails drag down my back.

My name breaks from her lips as I pump my hips in an age old rhythm, in and out, again and again.

She’s so good.

Her sweet body pulses around mine, and I feel everything.

Every quiver and quake.

I bury my face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in like I’ll need the memory later.

But I don’t want later.

I want now.

And maybe I want always.

Fuck, my balls tighten.

I swear to God, my whole body aches with the need to keep her.

To make her mine.

“Look at me, Trouble. I wanna see you when you come this time,” I growl my demand and her mouth drops open in a silent scream as her pussy tightens its grip.