Page 47 of When There Was You
His stubble scrapes my tender flesh as we adjust to this journey of discovery. He doesn’t require many navigational cues—and when he lands on the bullseye with the perfect pressure, I quiver and my moans intensify.
“Like that. Just like that. Oh god. Don’t stop,” I plead.
My orgasm builds, tension mounting through my core as my legs go taut, breath ceasing as release roars through my body, a flash flood annihilating everything in its path. I ride the wave of delirium through the most unrecognizable scream I’ve ever emitted, one that leaves me gasping for air and wondering if I’ve just serenaded the entire hotel.
Through it all, I register Butch pushing my thighs further apart—against my body’s natural inclination to press them closed. He’s still spreading me wide as the last spasms shudder through my vagina, and I realize he’s…watching. Intently. And something about that is super fucking hot.
I lift my head and our eyes connect. I’m struck again bythe beautiful forest in his, visible even now through his blown pupils. “You’re…really good at that,” I say hoarsely.
Butch chuckles, his breath tickling my sensitive bits. “You make it easy.”
He releases my thighs and stands, swiftly stripping off the rest of his clothes. My gaze snaps to his erection. The lumberjack is packing—like a fucking redwood—thick, straining, andwellabove average. I’m slack jawed. And desperate for carnal knowledge.
He looks pleased. Maybe even a little smug.
“Butch,” I purr.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, stroking his impressive dick. “This what you want?”
I nod, speechless.
He positions himself, leaning forward on his arms to kiss me languidly, as if we have nothing but time. His lips trail to my ear. “I can’t wait to be inside of you too, Sundance,” he whispers, his warm breath adding more heat to the inferno roiling through my body.
He rubs the tip along my entrance, testing. No need. I’m soaked, beyond ready, open for business. Our moans converge as my legs widen, and he pushes in further. Holy hell. It’s a good thing I’m primed, because his girth steals my air straight from my lungs.
“Relax, beautiful. Breathe.”
I take a few inhalations and force myself to calm. He eases in another inch.
“You’re so big,” I marvel.
“And you’re so fucking tight I’m about to lose my shit.”
“Relax, Butch.Breathe,” I joke through more staggered breaths.
Our eyes meet, smiles matching. This man is a heady sight. Gorgeous. Strong. And totally focused on me. My mouth falls open as he thrusts deeper, pleasure zinging through my system.
When he’s all the way home, his eyes close, and I watch him raptly. His brunette locks are damp from perspiration, curling slightly at the ends. His neck and arm muscles strain. His weight fills me with a comfort I don’t understand.
His eyes open and we share another languid smile. “You okay?”
This man. If it wasn’t a one-nighter, bet I could fall for him. “Never better.”
Slowly, he moves his hips, working us into a rhythm. My legs lift, allowing him in deeper, and the friction…and sheer volume of Mr. Lumberjack blows my mind. He quickens his tempo, ramming into me with deliberate strokes, our moans and heavy breaths filling the room. I’m delirious from the pleasure, clawing at his back like a crazed woman. I wrap my limbs around him, my fingernails digging in, wanting him closer, closer, closer as our centers meet again and again.
His pace turns even more vigorous, and the momentum edges my delirium as he nears climax. My exclamations intensify. The sensations are extreme enough that my eyes prick unexpectedly. Our gazes clash in the final moments, and my euphoria is mirrored in his expression. He explodes and I cry out, overwhelmed with…all of it. His maple scent mixed with salty sweat. His hard muscles against my soft skin. How he clutches me to him as he grinds out every drop. The soundtrack of our ragged breaths punctuating the quiet space.
I pull him in tighter, and he collapses into me, both of us basking in the spoils of this unexpected, incredible, and damn-near perfect liaison.
Minutes later, I’m wrapped around one side of Butch with his fingers lightly tracing over my hip and down one leg. It’s surprising intimate for two strangers, but after what just went down, maybe not.
Waning light filters in the hotel window, the sky is a dusky shade of blue, and sounds of distant sirens permeate the silence.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“For more of you? Yes.”
I chuckle. “How about food? We could order room service.”
