His Big Package (Mistletoe Montana, 4)

by Jenika Snow

  “Don’t stop,” I heard myself shout out. “God. Never. Stop.” I was crying, the pleasure so great I couldn’t control my emotions.

  “Never,” he breathed out, his voice tight in his arousal. “I’ll never stop where you’re concerned.”

  I didn’t want to stop it. I never wanted this to end.

  I felt my orgasm start to dwindle, but the pleasure stayed at the forefront.

  “Look at me,” Logan demanded, and I forced my eyes open. “Keep those baby blues trained right on me, pretty girl.” His jaw was clenched tight, as if he was trying to hold off the inevitable.

  “Let go,” I whispered. “Let go for me. Fill me up.”

  His eyes widened briefly before he growled.

  I used my inner muscles to clamp down around his cock, a very male, very sexy and vulgar curse leaving him. It was clear he was right at the edge, that it wouldn’t take much to make him go over. And I wanted to witness that so badly. Even though I’d climaxed twice already, I felt another mind-blowing orgasm building inside me.

  And then with a deep-rooted sound of need coming from Logan, my world tipped upside down. I found myself hovering over him, Logan beneath me, flat on the bed, my legs spread on either side of his muscular body. I straddled him, my hands on his pectoral muscles to steady myself. I stared down at this harshly beautiful man and moaned when his cock jerked between us.

  “Put me back inside,” he demanded in a guttural voice. “Grab it and shove it deep in your pussy.”

  His fingers were digging deep into the skin of my hips, and I knew there would be bruises tomorrow. Good, I wanted his mark. I wanted the proof that this night actually happened covering my flesh, but also deep in me, his cum filling me up.

  I wanted his mark on me and in me.

  And I did just that, curled my hand around his cock, rose up on my knees so I could place the tip at my hole. Without waiting, I sank down, down, down, taking all of him, feeling that stretch and burn, that sensation of him spitting me in two. It was the most incredible feeling.

  Logan kept both hands curled around my hips in a vice-like grip, and before I could take control, he started lifting me up and bringing me back down on his cock. I could do nothing but steady myself as he dominated the situation, controlled the pace and fierceness of the fucking.

  And I was more than okay with that.

  The wet, erotic sounds of our sex filled my head and had me reaching another orgasm.

  “So tight.” He bared his teeth as he stared at my face. “This tight little virgin pussy is all for me, isn’t that right.” There was no question. “It’s only for me,” he growled possessively.

  “Yes,” I cried out, meaning it.

  I gasped when he slammed me down hard on him over and over again before finally stilling, letting me feel how much he filled my pussy with his monstrous cock. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, heard myself gasp at the look of eroticism on his face.

  Neck muscles strained, standing in stark relief.

  His body seemed bigger than it had been.

  His eyes locked on mine.

  His teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip as he got close to orgasming.

  He started really fucking me then, lifting me up, then slamming me back down at the same time he lifted his hips, pushing all those thick inches back into my greedy body.

  “Fuck,” he roared out, and on the third roll of his hips, he stilled, pulling me down and burying his face in the crook of my neck, his entire body shuddering against mine as he came.

  He orgasmed hard, filling me up, making me take every ounce he had to offer.

  “Mine,” I heard him growl. “Only mine.”

  After long moments, when I finally felt his body start to relax, I inhaled sharply and let that pleasure-fog wash through me, making me drowsy, content. I collapsed on top of him and felt Logan kiss the side of my neck softly, running his tongue over my flesh, causing chills to race up my spine. He purred, and I hummed in approval.

  I rolled off him and lay on my side facing him. He shifted so he faced me as well, and I was surprised to feel how hard he still was as his slick cock pressed against my thigh. He was so hard, as if he hadn’t come, yet I knew he had. The remnants of his orgasm were slipping from my body, smearing along my inner thighs.

  He curled his hand around my waist and pulled me right up against his body, and I felt like I fit him perfectly, like my body was made for his, like a puzzle piece that had finally found its home.

  “Stay with me, Blythe.” He pulled me closer to him. “We don’t have to do anything but lie here, me holding you, never letting you go.”

  I had my hand on his chest, my heart resting right over his heart. I felt the soothing, calming motion of his palm stroking up and down my back.

  “Just be mine.”

  I closed my eyes and said the only thing that made any sense. “I’m already yours, Logan.” And right after I said those words, fear took a nice, strong hold of me.

  11

  Blythe

  The following morning

  The fog of sleep slowly lifted as I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. My body ached in the most erotic way. The twinge settled right between my thighs, this throbbing, pleasurable reminder of what I’d done with Logan. All night long.

  I turned my head to the side and looked out the massive picture window that was across from the equally monstrous bed. The sun was barely cresting over the horizon, the sky soon to be painted in shades of orange and pink. The tops of the great pine trees were dusted with snow, a reminder that the sky had opened up and dumped a shitload of the white stuff all over the place.

  Pulling my focus away from the window, I turned my head to look at Logan, who slept soundly beside me. He was on his side facing me, his body so big, his shoulders so wide. He had this ease to his face, yet I knew without having known him long, without him telling me, that he could be alert and ready for anything at a moment’s notice.

  I stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders, a tingle and warmth spearing throughout me as arousal steadily crawled along my body. My pussy grew wet, my pulse beating at my core. God, I was already prepared for him again. And that steady beat in my body grew as I remembered all the things we’d done last night... all the things he’d done to me with so much heat and passion. He’d made love to me; he’d fucked me.

  And as I lay there and looked at him, let the realization of what we’d done filter through me, feeling my emotions fully sink in, I started to sense this panic settle within me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want whatever this was between Logan and me. Because I did. But I couldn’t deny that fear filling me so suddenly. It was powerful.

  I’d never felt anything as strong as this before. Hell, I’d never felt anything like this at all.

  I slowly slipped out of bed, trying to be quiet, not allowing the blankets to rustle too much. I didn’t want to wake him, because I didn’t want to have to face the “morning after" confrontation we’d have.

  I’d given this man my virginity after only knowing him for such a short time. Yet it felt right. It felt like I’d been waiting to give him my innocence my entire life. It made absolutely zero sense, but then again, did many things in life?

  After I was dressed, I stood there and watched him, knowing I had to get out of here so I could think, so I could be alone and let myself really focus on what I wanted and what I was going to do.

  What I want is that man lying in bed. What I want is to wrap my body around his and fall into what this is between us headfirst.

  And leaving him seemed—felt—so wrong. And as I walked toward the bedroom door, stopping before I exited so that I could look over my shoulder at him once more, all I felt was longing.

  The bed was massive, yet he was so much bigger, seeming to dwarf the California King.

  I felt this distress and weight at leaving. All I wanted to do was to let him hold me, to let Logan tell me that I didn’t have to be scared, that this felt just as right for him as i
t did for me. But my heart was beating too hard, nervousness and the fear of the unknown claiming me too fiercely.

  Then reality crashed back into me. I had no car. I’d have to call an Uber, and I prayed he didn’t wake up before the car came. The last thing I wanted was a conversation on why I was sneaking out like a coward.

  12

  Logan

  I thought about giving her some time, some space, but I was about to tear out of my fucking skin. She left—snuck out this morning—so she was obviously conflicted about what we’d done last night.

  But hell, staying away from Blythe seemed wrong at my very core.

  I stood by the sliding glass doors that led out to the rear of the property. I could see the pond across the way, the trees surrounding it, the weather cold enough to freeze your balls off. There was a layer of ice over the water, and as much as I tried to clear my mind and tell myself going all caveman on her might have the opposite effect than I wanted, I couldn’t help but let her consume my mind.

  I tried to think of how I could make Blythe see she belonged with me.

  I stared out the window at the snow, the brightness of the freshly fallen powder almost blinding in its intensity.

  I finished off my coffee and took the mug to the sink, rinsing it out before putting it on the strainer. And then I curled my hands around the sink, tightening my fingers around the edge, hanging my head, and closing my eyes.

  I breathed in and out slowly, every instinct in my body telling me to go to Blythe. She could run. But there was no way she’d be able to get away from me, not now, and certainly not after what we shared last night.

  I knew her name. I knew where she worked. We’d gone over everything last night at dinner. I asked her every conceivable question I could think about, wanting to know every minute detail that made up her life.

  And that’s what I was going to do today. I was going to find out where she was, and I was going to make her see she didn’t have to be afraid of what was happening between us. And I assumed that’s why she ran. I knew that was the reason.

  She’d bared herself, given herself to me completely last night. I felt it. She’d felt it. And it terrified her.

  How could it not? Things had gone from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye. But when it felt right, when it felt like we were made for each other, how could either one of us deny it?

  13

  Blythe

  As soon as I’d gotten home—which had been several hours ago—I’d done nothing but lie on the couch with a throw blanket wrapped around my body, a hot mug of tea wedged between my hands, and my thoughts cemented on Logan.

  I replayed last night over and over again, this broken record that had done nothing to clear my thoughts and everything to keep my body perpetually hot and bothered. And then I backtracked to the first time I’d seen him and how I felt an instant pull, a sudden attraction that went deeper than physically.

  Of course there had been arousal—the kind that made you dizzy and crazy and weak-kneed—but it had been so much more. There had been this recognition as I looked into his green eyes, this feeling that I’d known this man my entire life despite never having seen him before. I felt as if my body had been made for him, as his was made for mine. And that scared the shit out of me.

  But I’d gone with it, let my feelings and emotions and arousal take control and forced the reality of the situation to take a backseat. I didn’t regret anything we’d done. Never. In fact, I wanted more.

  I set my cup on the coffee table and exhaled, resting my head back on the cushion and closing my eyes. I felt stiff, not just from the “workout” from last night—which had me blushing severely—but because my muscles were tight from stress. I shouldn’t have left him like that. I should have at least said goodbye, that I needed time to think.

  I should have told him that I wanted to see where this went.

  “You’re such a damn fool,” I whispered to myself, the words moving through the air and hanging as if they refused to give any kind of peace. They were this heavy reminder that I was a grown-ass woman yet was acting like a child. “Just call him, tell him why you left, why you’re afraid.”

  I scrubbed my hands over my face and sat up straighter, staring at the wall ahead of me, knowing that’s what I had to do. He’d understand. He would. I knew it. The things he told me as he’d been inside me, the way he touched me, held me… told me that he’d been on the edge of the emotional cliff right along with me.

  Although I didn’t have his personal phone number, which made me snort, because after what we’d done last night, we hadn’t done so much as exchange cell numbers. But I knew where he worked—Marsh Printing—which was right in town. I didn’t know if he’d be there this morning, but surely whoever was there would be able to direct me on how I could get a hold of him.

  So as I came to the resolution that’s what I was going to do, and after I stood and went to grab my purse and keys, I froze at the sound of three hard knocks on my front door. I didn’t know who would be here. It wasn’t like I had friends who just dropped by, and I doubted it was Wellsie, as she never came unannounced, and was likely busy with the clean-up from the Santa event.

  But my mind was churning with all the things I needed to do with Logan, so I paid it no more attention as I walked over and opened the door. A cold blast of winter air slammed into my face as the wind picked up, but that wasn’t what had my entire body freezing, chills racing up and down my arms, or my breath catching.

  Logan stood on the other side, his big, imposing body this dark silhouette against the white backdrop of winter. I didn’t know what to say, my throat so dry, my tongue so thick as I stared into his face. It was as if we’d been on the same wavelength, of the same mind. He’d come to me just as I was going to him.

  He had this harshness to his expression as he stared at me. After everything we’d done last night, how I should be good and sated for the rest of my natural life, I still couldn’t help how my body reacted to the sight of him. Wetness pooling from my still ultra-sensitive pussy. Nipples hardened even though they still ached from the erotic abuse he gave them with his mouth, teeth, and the scruff covering his cheeks.

  I did hold in my moan, so there was that at least.

  And as I stood there, I wasn’t even ashamed of the fact that I was checking him out. Dark boots encased his feet. Worn denim jeans wrapping around his massively masculine thighs. He wore a white T-shirt underneath a blue-and-green flannel. His jacket was dark, big enough to fit a frame such as his, and still I could see how muscular he was despite all those layers covering him.

  And although he wore that unreadable expression, I could see the way his eyes softened as he looked at me.

  I licked my lips and took a step back, saying nothing as I allowed him entrance. He’d clearly come here looking for answers. I knew that’s where I’d just been headed. And although I didn’t know if I could give him what he was after, those elusive answers that even I couldn’t find, I didn’t want to be away from him.

  Fate. Destiny. Whatever this was between us, it was very clear that he and I were meant to cross paths again.

  14

  Logan

  Blythe looked terrified, but not in the sense that she was afraid of me, but in the fact that she was nervous about whatever this was that was happening between us.

  And I needed to ease her worry, make her feel comforted… wanted in every single fucking way imaginable.

  It had been easy enough to find her address, as it was public information. I wasn’t even the least bit ashamed that I looked her up, that I found her phone number, where she lived, any other little piece of information I could find about her. And I’d do it all over again if it meant being in this moment with her now.

  I sat in the recliner across from her, my big body barely fitting in the small confines of the chair. She sat on the couch cattycorner to me, her hands in her lap, her fingers twisted together. I hated that she was so nervous. The anxiety coming from her was
like a living entity spearing out of her body and wrapping itself around me.

  “How did you find me?” She glanced up at me, her blue eyes seeming so big and depthless.

  “The internet.”

  She nodded, obviously finding that a sufficient answer.

  “I was about to go out and find you too,” she admitted, and I felt a flare of surprise at that. I also felt… approval and nearly hummed because of it.

  “I’m sorry I ran off this morning without saying anything," she finally spoke again, her voice whisper-soft. She kept those baby-blue eyes trained on me, and my breath caught.

  God, she was gorgeous.

  I shifted on the chair, feeling arousal start to claim me. Now was not the time to pop a boner. This was a serious situation, one where I would bare myself to her and let Blythe know I couldn’t let her walk away. I wouldn’t.

  “I—”

  “Was afraid of what’s happening between us,” I finished for her and saw her eyes widen before she nodded slowly.

  She licked her lips, and I looked down to watch the act, seeing her little pink tongue run across her full bottom lip. I nearly groaned at the sight, telling my body that right now I had to get my fucking self-control in check. But the arousal was a steady beat inside me. It was unavoidable, undeniable. There was this insane pull I felt toward her, the attraction too intense to be denied.

  “It scares me, if I am being bluntly honest here,” she said so softly I almost didn’t hear.

  Blythe looked down at her lap and started messing with the edge of her shirt, pulling out a loose thread. Every instinct in me wanted to go to her, pull her into an embrace, smooth my hand up and down her back, and comfort her, telling her everything was fine because I was here now and I’d never let her feel upset. I’d level cities to make that so.