Page 6 of Praise Me: Lumberjack
Safe to be that way.
Yes, he’s much older than me. But that only seems to magnetize me more.
He releases another portion of his weight onto me, and I whimper, pressing my open mouth to his sizeable shoulder, lapping at the saltiness of him. He smells like pine and sweat, and the combination causes some undiscovered muscles below my navel to flex in the most sinful way. What is my plan here? I have no idea. This man has a child and is probably quite experienced in bed. Meanwhile, I have no clue what I’m doing.
I’m feeling my way in the dark.
But the safety of him makes me unafraid.
Eagerly, I analyze his face in an attempt to decipher his thoughts, surprised when I find his ears are red, his Adam’s apple trapped beneath his jaw. “If you lick me like that again, Jenna, I’m going to humiliate myself.”
I can’t hide my confusion. “What do you mean?”
His throat muscles shift with a swallow. “That pretty tongue shouldn’t be anywhere near an ugly bastard like me. And you know it.”
“I don’t know anything about how to use my tongue,” I confess in a hushed tone. “And how dare you call yourself ugly. L-look at you!”
“How am I supposed to look at anything but you?” He drops his head forward on a curse. “Dammit. Forget I said that.”
“Why?” I ask, utterly breathless.
Have I ever been paid such an authentic compliment?
“You must get that flowery bullshit all the time. You deserve it, too. You’re…” He shakes his head. “God, I can barely look at you, you’re so remarkable. But I’m here to make you feel better. Not make you uncomfortable or—”
“You aren’t making me uncomfortable.” I lean up and brush our mouths together. “At least, not in a bad way.”
His breath hitches. “I’m afraid to ask you what that means.”
“It means I like you on top of me.” I part my thighs, slowly winding them around his huge hips, moaning over the full pressure of his denim erection against my mound. “A lot.”
For several beats, he struggles to get himself under control. Then, “Baby, what you’re feeling is gratitude. I helped you out of a bad situation and now you must…feel like you owe me a pity fuck, or something.” He shifts his hips low, then high, dragging the flannel of my borrowed shirt up and over my sex, exposing that flesh to his zipper. “That’s all this is.”
“No. That’s not it at all.”
“I’m way too old to bang you, Jenna.”
“Normally I would agree with you. Everyone older has mistreated me. Stolen my money and exploited me. You must have read I emancipated from my parents when I was seventeen, right?” A shiver passes through me remembering the lowest point of my life. The loneliness that has eaten away at me since then. “It was a whole court trial, and the paparazzi were relentless.”
“I work and I raise my kid. I don’t pay attention to celebrity gossip. But…” He seems to debate the wisdom of kissing me, eventually dipping his head to breathe against my mouth, unleashing a mudslide of lust inside of me. “God, baby. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“You’re older, too, but you’re not like them. Are you? Not like the Hollywood execs who try and run my life. You wouldn’t use your age against me. You’d use it to give me security, wouldn’t you?” I say, tracing my hands up and over the hard slabs of muscle that make up his chest and shoulders. “You wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of me. You wouldn’t that happen to anyone who is important in your life, would you?”
His jaw snaps. “Hell no.”
I draw my knuckle down that taciturn jaw. “I can tell that about you.” Dropping my hands to my sides, I drag open the flannel shirt between us, listening to him groan gutturally when my bare breasts meet with his broad chest. “What can you tell about me?” I ask, trailing my fingers up and down his heaving ribcage. “Can you tell that I’ve had to learn how to take care of myself, but…maybe I need someone to take over the job once in a while? So I can just be…a girl?”
He visibly battles with himself, trying to fight the urge to hump me, but he loses the war, pinning me down and grunting through a series of frantic punches of his hips. “If I didn’t know any better, Jenna, I’d think you were looking for…”
“For what?” I gasp, desperate for him to put a name to what I need. A mystery emptiness I’m trying to fill, no idea what to use. What or who to seek for help.
Penn leans up on his elbow, groaning as he looks down at my arched body, my high breasts and splayed thighs, all flushed from his weight. “Ah, hell, baby. You’re looking for a big, mean Daddy to protect that A-list pussy, aren’t you?”
I cry out under the sudden, infinite strain. The sheer force of my orgasm.
When he realizes I’ve catapulted over the peak, he bears down with his hips and I scream louder, forcing him to cup a hand over my mouth, but I can’t stop. I can’t stop wetting the bulge of his jeans with pleasure, my shaking legs kicking around his hips, before I eventually bury my heels into the bed, arching my spine involuntarily to combat the earthquake wreaking havoc below my waist, moisture seeping out of me, so much that I start to worry I’m peeing, the relief is so intense and complete.
“Oh my goodness! I’ve never…I’ve never…”
