Page 18 of Big Burly Foreman

That’s all I need to hear, and I’m moving again, pressing into her once more. I didn’t think it would be this hard on my control. I thought I had better restraint than this, but every day is a test with Ashley.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby,” I rasp. My spine is tingling with the need to pound into her and come like I’ve longed to all night, but I don’t want to hurt her. I know my cock is a lot to take, especially for her first time, and I would do anything to lessen her pain.

She whimpers when I slide another inch into her tight, virgin pussy. “It’s so big, Logan!”

“It’s okay,” I whisper, pressing my lips against the side of her head a second before I thrust my hips forward and impale her with my cock. She cries out, digging her fingernails into my shoulder and scratching her way down my back.

Fuck! She’s tight.

A shudder racks my body as my cock swells, stretching her inner walls, and the need to pound into her grows stronger.

I thought I was prepared for her virgin pussy closing tightly over my cock, but nothing could have prepared me for the tightness that almost sends me to the edge. She’s milking me, her body testing my control, but I have almost none left. It’s all been torn to shreds at this point.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, dropping my forehead against hers and fighting not to come, but her pussy is cinching hard around me. “Please tell me you’re okay, princess.”

Her breath comes out shaky when she starts moving subtly beneath me. “I don’t . . . It doesn’t hurt. It feels good. I thought—”

She jolts under me, and her lips part in a gasp when I move, slow at first, but my hips start slapping hard against her. All the need and desire I managed to bottle up over the years escapes, and there is no stopping the beast that comes out. All she can do is hold on for the ride and hope I don’t drown us both.

I grab her left thigh with my right hand and lift it to my hip, which sends me impossibly deeper into her, and she must feel every inch as her back arches with a scream, and the nails on my back tear through my skin.

“So fucking tight,” I grit. “I am going to fill this pussy with my come, fill you up, so you feel me for days.”

“Yes,” she pants her hips jerking with mine, eyes shut and neck exposed, as I fuck her into her bed, grinding my cock into her tight channel. Her cries mix with my moans, making enough noise to wake the dead, let alone the people on the ranch. It doesn’t matter how secluded her room is, there is no muting the sounds of our pleasure.

“Oh, God . . . Logan!” she cries, a tremble racking her body as I pound into her. “I’m coming!”

A scream rips out of her throat, and she bucks in my arms just as her pussy closes hard around my cock, and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge with her.

“I love you,” I grind out as I pin her to the bed and spill my seed into her womb. I rear back and slam into her channel as she milks me of every drop and all my strength before dropping on top of her. “I love you so fucking much, Ashley.”

The room falls into silence, filled only by the sounds of our harsh breathing, and I am afraid I scared her with my confession. But when I pull back to study her face, it’s to find longing and desire, mixed with apprehension.

She’s afraid.

The confession is written all over her face, and I can practically read it on her lips, but she is afraid to say the words. She is terrified of opening her heart to me, only for it to end in tears when her parents force her to marry someone else.

I want to rage and insist that she trust me, but can I blame her really? All I have done is talk. I need to do something.

“It’s okay,” I assure her, kissing her temple before drawing her into my arms. “I’ve got you, princess.”

It’s time I make some important calls.

Chapter Nine

Ashley

Waking up to a lobster-red face staring down at me is not how I expected to start my morning.

I had hoped to wake up in the arms of the man who’d just popped my cherry, snuggled up to his muscles and breathing in his earthy, muscular scent. Logan. That’s the one person I would have preferred to wake up to, but in his place is a monster. At least, I think so at first, and it takes me a full minute and a few hundred heartbeats later to recognize my mother’s face beneath the red gooey stuff covering it.

“A red facial mask, really?” I scream, kicking at the covers. How is it I never knew my mother was a psycho up until this moment?

Is this the part of her she kept hidden from the world? The part that loves to scare the hell out of her kid and give them a heart attack?

“That’s what you get for leaving early last night,” she says with a huff, sitting back before pressing at her mask dramatically.

“What even is that, and why is it so . . . red?”

---