Page 40 of Liberated By the Logger

I expect him to finger me again, but that’s not what he does.

Brose crouches until he’s face level with my sex, flattens his tongue, and licks me from the tip of my clit to the crack of my ass.

“Oh!” I squeak. The sensation from this position is unfamiliar and makes me uncertain. I lurch forward, trying to escape his touch.

“Nu-uh,” Brose taunts teasingly, grabbing me by the hips and yanking me back to him. “You stay right where you are. Let me eat this juicy pussy from behind and tickle your pretty puckered hole at the same time.”

He repeats what he did before, clit to ass, making me squirm in his hold.

Embarrassed and surprisingly aroused, I bury my face into the sheets, groaning. This new position is dirty—in a toe-curling good way.

My filthy mountain man devours me. He alternates between flicking my clit to sucking on it hard. His nose rubs against my center, occasionally brushing my asshole and making me clench. Brose is all tongue and teeth, teasing me to the point of combustion.

The consuming feeling is overwhelming. It’s not long before I’m eagerly pushing my back end against his face, rocking my hips to get more delectable friction. I’m a panting, sweaty, slick mess, but Brose isn’t slowing. He seems determined to make me come while in this position.

My legs quake with each sharp swipe of his tongue over my stimulated nub, dragging ragged moans deep from inside me.

“You taste so fucking good,” Brose mumbles against my mound, sending delightful vibrations to my core.

“Brose!” I whine, sensing my resolve slipping.

“Let go, Aspen,” he drawls in a raw voice. “Give me your pleasure.”

Coming on command was something I thought impossible. Give it to Brose to prove me wrong.

As the first wave of bliss rises within me, I close my eyes and let go. Brose will catch me as I lose myself in the pleasure.

I come on a silent scream, my body shuddering and rocking against his face. Brose folds his tongue, driving it inside of me, prolonging my release and giving me something to clench around instead of empty air. It’s enough to make me demand him inside of me.

“Brose,” I whimper, sounding pathetically needy. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me hard.”

He pulls his face back, sucking on one of my pussy lips a final time. “Hard? Darlin’, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Not taking no for an answer, I push up on my wrists, resuming doggy position, and glare at him over my shoulder. “I’m not a fragile flower, Brose. I’m sturdy enough to handle you and whatever you can give.”

With a cocky smirk, Brose leans forward and bites me on the ass. I hiss, but refuse to pull away. To do so would prove me wrong, and I’m stubborn enough to fight for what I want.

Brose licks my sore skin where he bit me, his eyes locked on mine. “Sturdy, huh? Like a tree? Like the tree you’re named after?”

He slides up my back, his hands planted on either side of me. My skin breaks out in pleasant goosebumps from the ridges of his chest and torso muscles rolling along my heated flesh. All I can do is look at him with admiration as his body molds around mine. He’s close enough I can see my residual arousal glisten on his beard and smell my musk on his face. The pleasure this man happily and freely gives me has me purring with appreciation.

When his front is flush with my back, his face goes soft as he admires me. “Sturdy like an Aspen—my Aspen.” And then he slides into me in one smooth punch of his hips.

I cry out, my fingers clutching the sheets beneath me. “Oh, fuck! Yes!”

“You like that, darlin’?” Brose growls against the side of my throat, licking me. His long length slowly pulls back.

“God, yes!” I mewl, widening my thighs to steady myself for his pounding. “More. I can take it.”

“Lock your limbs. This will be rough.”

Doing as he says, I brace myself for the rutting of a lifetime. With one arm wrapped around my midsection, Brose collars the front of my neck with his free hand and pistons into me from behind.

My mouth parts, unable to make a sound, while Brose fucks me like I asked—aggressive and fast. Each punch of his hips slaps against my ass. His heavy balls swing and hit my clit each time he saws into me. He cocks his hips, hitting places I’ve never been touched and stamping his imprint inside me.

This position screams dominance and ownership, like Brose is showing his earlier claim over me in front of the mercenary bikers and I’m only now getting it.

Fuck the reasoning behind it. Some things don’t need to make sense—they just are. And what is forming between us falls under the umbrella of accepting our fast relationship as is.