Page 32 of Auctioned to the Lumberjacks (Auctioned)

“Jack.” My name is a desperate, breathy plea.

I should resist what she’s asking for. Crying women don’t need sex. They need comfort and understanding.

At least women who’ve led happy and content lives need that.

People like Skye and me, who’ve experienced the worst of the world and been spat out on the other side, need different things altogether.

My cock thickening brings me back into the room. My hand glides like a silk thread to her waistline, and she gasps as my skin touches her soft, warm flesh. I trace my fingers over her ass and take one whole cheek in my open palm and squeeze gently, testing. She moans and adjusts herself, offering me her sweet spots, pushing herself back against my open hand. I linger for a moment and allow my hand to squeeze again before trailing my fingers down around the outside of her exposed ass.

Stroking over and over her covered pussy, the heat of her increases with every pass. She swivels herself around to face me directly and drops her knees wide open.

My cock is throbbing for release, and the night is still stretched out before us.

I stand and lay her down on the rug in front of the fire, dropping my boxers to the floor and stepping out of them in a fluid movement. She watches me the whole time and moans at the sight of my huge length, which aches with violent need. Blood rushes to my head as I fist it tightly, watching as she removes her nightwear.

“Rub yourself, Skye. Finger your pussy but don’t come. Get yourself ready for me,” I growl, but I’m hungry, not angry.

She watches me as I give myself a couple of quick jerks to show her how ready I am. I move swiftly for someone so lumbering and rummage around in the cabinet next to the fire until I find what I want. We don’t have much call for curtaintiebacks, so these have been stored in the drawer for the better part of a decade.

As I approach Skye, she sits with her legs wide open and offers her wrists out to me with uncertainty. She knows what I like. She knows how good it can feel. I hope she knows I wouldn’t hurt her outside of where it feels good.

“Make it hurt,” she whispers.

She closes her eyes and inhales slowly. Her body trembles, but I’m unsure whether it’s the warmth of the flames beginning to work their magic or the anticipation of what I’m about to do to her.

Or is it fear?

She’s lost in herself and looks like she’s meditating, preparing herself for what’s coming next.Punishment or reward,depending on how you look at it.

Bringing my line of vision towards the doorway to the hall, I signal for Finn and West to come forward. They’ve been silent and observing, and I know that they heard everything.

Casting my gaze back to Skye, who’s waiting with her arms outstretched, still presenting her wrists to me, I step forward, drop to my knees, and bind them together.

She needs this, and I understand why.

I can release her from the shackles of her tortured heart and soul.

I can do that much for her.

I signal them both to approach further as Skye slowly opens her eyes.

12

SKYE

HIDING FROM THE TRUTH

Jack knows my truth. There’s no hiding anything from him anymore. He knows, and he cradled me while I cried and kissed me so sweetly my heart ached. He showed me the sympathy I never expected.

And now he’s found a way to give me what I need to step out of my turmoil for a while.

Guilt prickles beneath my skin for wanting to get lost in pleasure and pain when Hallie should be the center of all my focus, but missing her is destroying me, piece by piece. I have to find a way to preserve what little is left to fight for her.

The sound of feet on the hardwood forces me to twist. Almost entirely concealed by shadows, Finn and West enter from the hallway. How long have they been there? Did they hear my confession? Did they see me break and Jack attempt to put me back together?

Finn drops to his knees, bending so his face is close to mine. “Skye, is this what you want?”

He touches a tear that’s leaked from the corner of my eye.

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