13. Aspen
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ASPEN
A lone again, Brose closes and locks the front door. He sighs, like he’s relieved to have those men out of our hair. They were pretty intimidating looking, but something tells me Brose would have held his own. He’s equally intimidating in his own right, especially with an axe in his hand.
When Brose turns to face me, I gulp. The way his eyes glide over my body as he licks his lips, this man looks like he wants to eat me for breakfast. He prowls toward me with a feral look in his gray eyes, one that has me backpedaling to the bedroom. Any other man looking at me like he is, I would be panicking. But with Brose, my insides clench with need.
“You certainly know how to make a man lose his mind, coming to greet strangers at the door in my shirt with no panties on.”
“I was worried,” I whisper honestly, my core heating with the ravenous way he admires me. “I heard my name, and you sounded angry—I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He shakes his head at me with an amused smirk barely visible through his thick beard. “How were you going to defend me? Launch some more of my decoys out the front door at the mercenary bikers paid to find you?”
“Maybe,” I admit, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It shocked the heck out of you when I did it.”
“Shocked is right.” He chuckles darkly. “You don’t need to worry about me arguing with strangers, darlin’. What you should be worried about is me going territorial when you’re around other men. I was ready to go all axe murderer on those dudes, throw you over my shoulder, and haul you off to bed, seeing you standing there all bare thighs and ready to throw shit.”
“Brose,” I say in a breathy whisper, needing him more than I’ve needed anyone. This man may be over the top possessive, but he treasures me, guarding me like he’s some fiery dragon protecting his possession. No man has made me feel cherished the way Brose does. One would assume he loves me the way he’s behaving.
Love? It’s too soon to feel that emotion, right?
It hasn’t been a day—lust would be a more logical explanation. And yet, here I want to argue it’s more than a sex driven dopamine response.
The way he looks at me, talks to me, interacts with me…there’s more to this budding thing between us. At least, my heart wants to believe there is.
Brose is everything I’ve been searching for, gift wrapped nicely in rugged mountain man form.
Please , I silently beg the universe. For once, let this be the real deal.
I want it to be. I want the happily ever after, and I want it with Brose.
Desperate to feel him, I stop my retreat and reach for him.
Closing the distance between us, Brose takes me by the hips and spins me around. His hard on digs against my ass as he runs his nose along the column of my neck, breathing me in. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I’m starting to,” I admit, arching my back and pushing my ass against his growing length.
He groans like he’s in pain, his hands clenching around my waist. “Starting to, huh? Then let me finish it for ya.”
Using one of his hands, Brose trails his fingers down my body to the hemline of my shirt. My body trembles, anticipating where he’s heading.
Brose slips his hand underneath, brushing feather-light against my sex. I whimper, desperate for more of his touch—something rougher, deeper.
“You sound like you want me,” he husks against my ear, teasing me further.
“I do,” I plead shamelessly, widening my stance to give him better access.
“Tell me. Say what you want me to do to you.”
“I want you inside of me—fingers, tongue, and cock.”
Brose releases another throaty chuckle. “That’s my good, filthy woman, demanding it all.”
His fingers slip between my wet folds, spreading my slick around my most sensitive area. I bite down on my lip, trying to stifle the obscene noises working their way out of my mouth.
He tsks , removing his hand from where I desperately want him. I nearly cry at the loss. He brings his fingers to my face—the same fingers he was using to please me—and tugs down on my lip.
“Stop biting off those little noises, knowing damn well I love hearing you make them. Don’t you dare hold anything back. Now open your filthy mouth for me.”
Parting my lips for him, he shoves his fingers into my mouth, not far enough to choke me, but enough to show me he’s in charge.
“Suck them clean. I want you to taste yourself the way I do.”
Something about his controlled aggression sends my senses into overdrive, like his need for primal dominance awakens my own. I want to please him like he’s pleasing me. I do as he says, sucking two of his large fingers deep into my mouth, tasting my tangy-sweet arousal on him, and humming with approval.
Brose growls in the back of his throat, pleased with my enthusiasm. I nip at his fingertips when he pulls his fingers from my mouth, making him snicker in a deliciously dark way.
“More,” I demand, hungry for whatever he’s serving.
All at once, he lifts me around my middle and he walks us to the bed. Instead of placing me back on the ground, he deposits me in the center of the mattress.
“Get on your hands and knees. Now.”
Scrambling to do as I’m told, I get into position, peeking over my shoulder at him and eagerly waiting for what he does next.
His chest rises and falls quickly as he stares at my almost fully exposed backside, palming his growing erection through his sweats. Without saying a word, Brose flips up my shirt, completely revealing my bottom half to him. The air is cool against my overheated sex and is amplifying my awareness of the slick coating my pussy lips and thighs.
“This pussy is a goddamn masterpiece,” Brose says, palming my mound and making me shudder with need. His fingers run through my wetness, teasing me open. “Fucking drenched for me.”
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.
Brose owns me: mind, body, and soul.
With each hard thrust, Brose groans against my temple, setting my insides on fire with the urge to climax. As rough as he’s fucking me, there is tenderness in the way he grasps my neck. It’s enough to hold me in place, but not hurt me or choke me out. His arm wrapped around me like a boa is more of a tight embrace than a restraint. His muscled chest is flat to my skin, like he needs to touch as much surface area on me as possible to feel the closest to me, connected.
His actions are sweet and forceful—it’s everything. Brose is everything.
When my insides tremble with my building release, Brose yanks us to our knees. I cling to his arm around my waist, as he drags me down on his shaft and the back of my thighs are straddling his. Fully seated, he lifts me back off before pulling me back down, repeating the process. I feel like a rag doll getting stuffed with his thick cock spearing me again and again…
The wetness he’s creating between my legs echoes around the room obscenely, adding to the melody of the squeaking bed frame and our ragged moans.
My legs burn and my throat aches, but the rush of sensation in my core has me peaking quickly.
“Brose!” I cry, my release gushing from me and all over his thighs.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he says, his hips jerking.
Burying himself as deep as he can get, Brose comes inside of me with a roar, flooding me with his warmth.
Exhausted, I go slack against him like a wet noodle while he pants into the crook of my sweat slick neck.
“Stay,” he whispers softly, almost too quiet for me to hear over the pounding of my pulse in my ears.
“Like I could move if I wanted to,” I reply with a tired laugh. “You drained me. Literally.”
Slipping out of me, Brose turns me to face him. He palms my face, capturing my attention as he says, “No, I mean stay here with me.”
Shocked, my mouth falls open. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“I want you with me,” Brose says vehemently. “I want to wake to you beside me each morning, wrapped around me. After we’ve put in long hours in the forest, each of us doing our jobs, I want to cook and share a meal together while we complain about work. Like a proper couple, I want to play house with you and do all the errands and duties together. When it’s been a shit day, I want to snuggle with you by the fire before bed or relax in the tub with you seated in front of me. And I want to make love to you as often as you’ll let me.”
Whoa! Here I thought dating was on the table, but living together? So soon?
“Brose, this relationship is already moving quickly. Dating is reasonable after what we’ve shared, but moving in after one night is going from fast to turbo.”
“If this was happening to anyone else, I would agree with you, but I know deep in my fibers this is right.” He leans in, kissing my forehead before breathing me in. “If you need time to think about it, I understand. And if your answer’s no, I’ll begrudgingly accept it—for now. But if you think for one second this time we’ve shared is a one off, you’re wrong. From here on out, you’re my woman. And I’m your man. Denying moving in with me is only prolonging the inevitable and it’ll only hurt us both to wait longer than necessary to make it happen.”
With each point to his argument, my stomach dips—nervous and excited all at once. I agree with everything he’s saying. Hell, even the sensible part of my brain is screaming at me to go for it.
Brose gently tilts my face to his with his fingertips, kissing me like he’s pouring all of his love into me. It’s drugging, maddening, and impossible to resist.
He breaks the kiss, leaving me panting and ready to launch myself at him.
“Please,” he begs, breathing against my lips. “Stay.”
My switch has been flipped. I don’t need time to consider my next steps. I know what I want.
It’s time to do something for myself for once and say goodbye to my sheltered bubble.
I look up into Brose’s light gray eyes, ready to change everything. “Take me home, Brose.”