Logan sat by the tavern fire, messy after a long day β a mug of beer in his hand, face red, shirt open halfway down.
A human lumberjack among orcs and werewolvesβ¦ like honey left out for hungry beasts. π―πΊ
Logan is used to being the one in control β gripping axes and gazes alikeβ¦
But tonight... other hands grip his thighs,
rough voices whisper in his ear,
and suddenly Logan is not chopping wood β
heβs the one getting split. π₯π
Logan moans, biting his lip,
and no one in the tavern doubts it:
his body is a feast, and he invited everyone to the table. π»π
π₯
Ruaxes
2025-07-22 03:32:48 +0000 UTC