Stud for Hire by Sabrina York

to make her feel like her true self with him. Always.
    â€œWhy did you come home?”
    Her smile fled. “Mom got sick. Dad needed me. I had to come home.”
    â€œAnd when you came home, Zack proposed?”
    â€œNot right away.” She stared at her fingers. “We dated for a while before he proposed the first time.”
    â€œThe first time?”
    â€œI turned him down several times. But then, when I found out we were losing the ranch, and Zack had offered to help out if I agreed to marry him . . .” She shrugged. “Mom loves that ranch. It’s . . . her home.”
    Of course. He knew it had to be something like that. She was willing to sacrifice her own happiness to rescue her parents. Exhilaration, vindication—that he hadn’t been wrong about her—whipped through him.
    And lust. There was lust mixed up in the whirlwind too.
    â€œAnd then you hired me. And here we are.”
    With his words, the mood in the little room shifted, the temperature with it.
    She glanced up at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. Her lips parted and sheened. Her features hungry.
    He pulled her close, kissed her. Gently, this time, and laid her down on the bed.
    He worked off his shirt and his jeans as he kissed her, fumbling in the pocket for that foil packet he’d remembered.
    It didn’t take long to bring her passion back up to fever pitch—not now that he knew her. Now that he could find and stoke her fire. And though she had wanted to experience a dominant loving, he had no desire to play that game now.
    He wanted to take her gently, to take her slowly. To savor each moment and show her with his body that which he couldn’t put into words.
    She was an angel in his arms, responsive and sweet, cooing and moaning as he teased her nipples, caressed her thigh. She hissed in a breath as he skated over her mound, then wriggled beneath him.
    His heart hitched at the slick welcome he found there.
    He had wanted her for so long. Dreamed of this moment for years. He wanted it to last forever.
    Lifting his hips, he positioned his cock and eased inside, hissing out a breath at the pleasure of finally, finally, sinking into her.
    She was glorious. Divine. His.
    Well, technically, not his. Not yet. But she would be.
    She was getting married. To Zack Pucey, of all people. And this weekend was her last gasp of freedom.
    He should be thrilled beyond words that he had, at least once, tasted her. But he wasn’t. He was angry at her plight and, truth be told, a little desperate.
    He only had a weekend, but he intended to use every moment to the fullest.
    By God, he would show Hanna Stevens what she’d be missing.
    ***
    Hanna winced as Logan pressed in. He moved slowly, sliding in, in a leisurely fashion, giving her body time to accept him. He was large and filled her beautifully, despite her natural resistance. He’d taken the time to warm her again, stroking and teasing and tantalizing her beyond sanity. And now, braced over her, staring down into her eyes, he took her.
    It was everything she’d imagined it could be.
    The pressure of his shaft, sliding against her weeping folds, the snarling sensation scraping quivering nerves, the fullness, stole her breath.
    Deep within, a cauldron bubbled, spat. An impatient fury for something more.
    He pulled out, again with excruciating slowness, and then eased back in, this time deeper.
    She shuddered as he hit a particular spot, one that made her tremble. She lifted her knees to cradle his hips, to encourage him, perhaps.
    He hissed and stilled, and then withdrew again. His features were frozen in a mask of pain, of patience. Restraint.
    She hated restraint.
    â€œPlease,” she murmured, wiggling her hips.
    â€œAh. What do you want, Hanna?”
    â€œHarder. Please.”
    A shadow crossed his face. His cheek bunched. “I’m trying to be gentle.”
    She cupped his cheek. Kissed him softly on the lips.