Bear is between my thighs, shoulders wedged under me, dragging me open like he’ll tear me apart if I try to close up.
His growl vibrates through me, through the whole bed, and my hands fly to his hair.
He’s ravenous. Desperately so.
Every flick of his tongue, every suck of his mouth is harsher, hungrier than usual. Last night he barely said three words to me, only barked orders—rougher, harder, dig in, petal.
I gave him what he wanted, clawed and slapped and raked my nails across his back until he bled. And now he seems hell-bent on wringing me dry, on making me scream louder than ever.
I do, right to the rafters.
By the time it’s over I’m wrecked, limp, gasping into the pillow as he licks me through the aftershocks. My body trembles and my throat’s raw from crying his name.
“That was... more intense than usual,” I whisper once I can breathe again.
He lifts his head, beard slick, eyes dark. “Are you complaining?”
I frown. “Only if there’s something wrong.”
His jaw tightens. He hesitates.
“What’s wrong, Bear?”
He shudders when I say it, like the name cuts straight through him.
Then he sits back on his heels, massive chest heaving. “Need to go out. You’re staying behind.”
My spine snaps straight. “No, I’m not.”
“You are, petal.” His voice brooks no argument as he rises off the bed, gloriously naked and mouthwateringly gigantic.
God, he’s big everywhere. I can’t get enough of looking at him.
Focus, Lily!“Where are you going?”
“Logging day.” His gaze flicks to the window, where the sky is just turning golden. “Men’ll be meeting me near the base. I’ll only be gone three... maybe four hours. You’ll be safe in the cabin.”
I scowl. I’ll go stir-crazy being here all by myself.
I’ve discovered the only form of entertainment Knox tolerates is technical logging books and boring biographies of dead athletes. If he owns a phone or a tablet, I’ve yet to see it. “But I want to see what you do.”
“Petal... no.”
His chest is hot under my palms when I lean forward, petting him. His nostrils flare, his eyes closing for half a second like he’s wavering.
And then I slide down to the end of the bed. Sit. Pull him closer and wrap my hand around his intimidating girth.
He’s harder than steel. But then isn’t he always?
I watch his face as I stroke him, see the spasms of pleasure chase across his features as he holds still. Watches me with ferocious intensity.
“Let’s make a deal. If I make you roar in three minutes,” I say, voice steady even though my insides quake, “I’m coming with you.”
His brow furrows, even as he shudders when I stroke him from root to tip. “Lily?—”
But I don’t let him finish. A quick glance at the clock, then I take his cock in my mouth.
His broad purple head fills me instantly, thick and hot, and I hollow my cheeks, working him with everything I have. My hands wrap around the trunk and base, stroking in time, tongue circling, pressing, teasing salty liquid from his slit.
