Auctioned to the Lumberjacks Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
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I check the pantry and fridge and find a pen and paper to jot down the food items that I need to keep the kitchen running. In the cupboard beneath the sink, I find a limited supply of cleaning products, so I add a few more items to the list. Maybe one of the lumberjacks will take me to the nearest store, and I can pick things out for myself. The prospect of doing something so mundane gives me a glimmer of something to look forward to outside of these four walls.

The house is quiet by the time I’m finished, and I pad softly into the hallway, listening out for any sign of life. My heart beats so fast against my ribs that I have to place my hand over my shirt to contain it.

I need to do this.

But confronting Jack is like facing Carter all over again.

I can’t bring myself to knock on the door but stand frozen like a statue instead.

Maybe I should let him come to me. I can leave my door open like they insisted and see who decides to use my body tonight.

But that isn’t what West instructed, and I can’t disobey because I’m already treading on thin ice.

I raise my hand to knock on the door, but before I can, all the lights in the cabin flicker and then go out. The darkness is so deep and ominous, I gasp. I wave my hand in front of my face, but I can’t see a thing. This deep in the forest, there is no light, and even the moon tonight is just a thin mocking arc in the sky.

In a panic, I knock softly on Jack’s door. Somehow, the wolf inside seems less daunting than the dark emptiness outside his room.

His voice barks for me to enter, so I do, finding a soft flickering candle casting dancing shadows in the room and a very naked Jack sitting on the edge of a large wooden-framed bed.

In the low light, he’s like a crouching giant, ready to unfurl his might.

“The lights went off,” I whisper.

“Close the door.”

He stands, making no effort to conceal his huge and very hard cock. It taps his navel as he takes a step closer, using two fingers to beckon me in a gesture that seems completely explicit.

Like he’s pulling strings connected to my body, I move closer. The scent of him is everywhere: woodsy with a hint of citrus, and underneath, something masculine that is uniquely him.

He’s showered away the filth of the day, but I can’t forget the scent of his sweat that lingered in the kitchen after he left, like a drug that clouds my mind, making me forget how harsh and terrifying he is.

His eyes narrow, assessing me. The tangle of his dirty-blond hair surrounds his face like a lion’s mane. Deep in his beard, his lips form a grim line.

“What are you here for?”

I blanch, embarrassed to answer. Still, I push to find the courage. “For whatever you need.”

“Whatever I need…?”

He’s close enough to touch me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looms over me, his impossibly broad chest like a living wall. I drop my lids, needing the safety of the darkness behind them. Jack takes my hand and, with harsh fingers, wraps my palm around his cock. “You feel this?”

I nod, my mouth so dry I can barely swallow.

“You’re going to take this, Skye. You’re going to take it whether you want to or not, but in the end, you’ll beg for it.”

His other hand cups my pussy, hard enough that he lifts me onto my toes. “This is mine. Do you understand me? Mine to touch. Mine to taste. Mine to use.”

It’s the word use that causes a hot pulse of heat to clench my internal muscles.

Why do I find the baseness of his actions and the harshness of his words arousing? West told me I have something in me that enjoys the way they are. Maybe he’s right.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed.” Jack squeezes my wrist, and I let go of his cock, fumbling to strip away Finn’s shirt and my tank, shoving my pants and underwear over my hips. I don’t look at Jack, but I feel his burning gaze on me as I climb onto the bed and lay on my back.

I expect him to flip me onto my front like last time. I expect the same remoteness he fucked me with when West and Finn were in the room, but I’m wrong to make assumptions.

So very wrong.

He returns from his dresser with lengths of rope in his hands, and I lay frozen, knowing what’s coming next and completely powerless to do anything to stop it.

You need to prove to him that you’re not scared of him. West’s words linger at the edges of my mind. I’ve had years of pretending not to be terrified. Years of plastering a smile onto my face and concealing the tremble of my hands.



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