“Shepard,” I whisper in the pink light of the morning.
Sitting up, I brush a hand over his handsome face, my breath catching in my lungs. Lord above, he is a beautiful man. He said something last night about being an ugly ogre, but he wassowrong. To me, he might be the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
His dark hair is a mess and I brush my fingers through it. A thick beard frames his rugged face and I comb my nails through the coarse curls, remembering how I touched him this way last night. How much I liked his scent and the feel of his weight against me.
Flushing, I recall how forward I was. I feltso safewith him. The minute I looked up to see him towering over me in the dark, it was as if I never had to worry about another thing. I clung to him all night and he let me. He was so gentle, his big hands tending to my wounds and even feeding me.
I wasflirtingwith him last night. I should be a married woman and last night I got naked for, and flirted with, a strange lumberjack. He liked it. He flirtedback. He never seemed to want to let me go. His hands were always on me. His mouth too. He talked to me, low and soft, keeping me awake, but I think he wanted to share everything with me.
I told him I did not want to marry the man I had planned to. But that I did want to marry someone. And have their babies. Heat bubbles inside of me again when I think about havinghisbabies. Cute little lumberjack babies in flannel onesies with his gray eyes and my freckles.
It must be the concussion.
“Shepard,” I whisper again, pressing against him, suddenly anxious for him to wake. For him to talk to me and look at me the way he did last night. To tell me I am going to be ok, and he will take care of me.Yeah, babydoll. I have you.
“I need to go,” I try again, so I can hit the bathroom. I am rolled onto my back and his huge frame pins me beneath him.
“No,” he growls against my neck, his face pressed there, “you can’t go. Not yet, babydoll,” his voice sounds panicked, and I can’t help the smile that overtakes my face. I love when he calls me that. I do feel like a dainty doll in his big, thick arms.
“Not going away, pretty face,” I whisper against his ear, turning my head so I can smell him again, “can I go to the bathroom?”
He grumbles and nods, but he doesn’t move. It’s then I realize he is hard. Big, thick, and very,veryhard. It settles against my bare sex, and I wonder why I was so stupid to not put on those sweats he offered. His hips move a little and I moan because,wow, that feels so good. He does it again and I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
My head hurts and my body aches, but his weight pinning me down, and that thickness between my legs rubbing against me feel so damn good. His lips press against my throat, and I do moan this time. God,thatfeels even better. He husks my name and I tilt my head, loving the way he moves to nuzzle deeper against me.
“You smell so goddamn good,” he grunts before his tongue comes out to lick at my neck and I swear I might combust. It feels feral and filthy and when he bites at the tender skin, I rub against him.
“Oh. Oh, don’t stop that,” I plead, tilting my head more, “I like your mouth, Shepard. I like it on me,” I whimper, lifting my legs to let him fit between them. We both moan as my wetness soaks him.
“Ah, hell, babydoll. You all wet for me?”
“Yes,” I hiss the word against his shoulder, realizing his shirt is gone and I can touch him.
My fingers slide up his bare back and pass over a smattering of scars. I slow my touch, pressing my fingertips against the wounds, wanting to know what caused them. Wishing to ease his pain if he still carries any. I press my lips to his shoulder, his throat, and his jaw, breathing in his soap and pine scent.
Shepard rocks his hips and I push back to rub against him. Seeking some sort of friction for the fire smoldering between my legs. When one of his hands slides between us and slips beneath the thermal top I have on, my head falls back, and I let out a cry that is both pain and pleasure.
“Ah shit, I don’t want to hurt you,” he growls, pushing up and away from me. A flash of panic hits me and I cry out.
“Don’t go,” I plead, gazing at him with tears in my eyes, “you can hurt me,” I whisper, shocking the both of us.
“Jesus hell, babydoll don’t say that to me. Lie back for me,” he husks, balancing on muscled arms to gaze down at me.
Those gray eyes of his flash silver in the dim light of the bedroom and I shudder. Gosh, he is so pretty. When I start to reach out to touch the lines of his face and toy with his beard, he lets out a little sound. Almost a growl. He grabs my wrists and pins them beside me and a searing thrill zips from my clit through every other erogenous zone in my body.
“Lie back, let me be good to you baby,” he murmurs as he slides his big body over mine at the same time he releases my wrists.
I swallow hard, nodding because why the hell would I argue with that? His lips feather gently over the bandages he carefully covered my road rash with last night. But when he drifts lower, past the wounds, I suck in my breath. I am too soft and squishy there and I hope he doesn’t notice.
Hot wetness slides over my navel, across my hips, and then lower. I arc into the tantalizing touch, my hands gripping at the sheets. His hands cup the back of my thighs, and he pushes them up and out. I gasp. My sex is bared to him, and I know I am wet,so wet, and he lets out the sexiest sound I have ever heard.
“Holy fuck, that pretty little flower is so wet. Going to suck the dew from those pink petals, babydoll,” he groans, bending to rub his nose against my mound.
“Please,” I hear a voice I don’t recognize moan before I realize it’s me,my voicebegging him, “please.... Shepard,” I roll his name off my tongue like a plea and he answers my prayers.
His tongue slides over my wet and I almost come apart. He wiggles it back and forth, opening me to his hot mouth and my eyes roll back in my head. I try to keep my hands at my sides, somehow knowing he wants to be in control, but they claw and twist at the bed. When he sucks crudely at the juices dripping from me, I flush shamefully.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls, sucking again, filling the room with wet, filthy noises as I moan, “you being so hot for me is the sweetest thing I have ever had, babydoll. Don’t you hold back or shy away from it. I want it all, I want those sounds, I want your hands tearing at me, I want you screaming my name and telling me how good my tongue feels licking your pussy. I want it. Ifucking need it.”