I rock my hips, desperate, begging to be filled. “Please fuck me.”

He shakes his head as he lines up his cock against my wetness, rubbing the tip against me. “I’m not going to fuck you,” he says, all low and smoky.

My brow knits. “You’re not?”

“Not at all,” he says, sliding the head against me, making me moan like a wanton woman. He pushes in, and I gasp, rocking back, greedily trying to draw him in farther. “I’m going to fuck you and,” he murmurs, pushing deeper, sliding into all my wetness as I shudder, “I’m going to make love to you.”

His words, his twin expressions of desire and adoration, send me flying. “Yes, please. I want that. Want you. Want it all.”

He bottoms out, filling me. I rock back and squeeze my eyes shut, desire overcoming me.

And he’s off, fucking me hard, ruthlessly. He’s demanding, driving deep, squeezing my ass, gripping my hips. He tugs my hair, making me yelp at the same time as I cry out from how hard he’s fucking me. He eases back, lifting a hand to swat my ass, then sinks right back inside me again.

I scream in pleasure.

He’s relentless as he fucks me savagely, pumping and thrusting, smacking and pulling and taking.

The whole time, he talks to me.

So fucking good.

You like that?

You want it harder?

I can barely move, and I love it. I can’t think, and I’m ecstatic. I don’t have to do anything but consume and be devoured.

And that’s how he fucks me. That’s how he makes love to me.

He takes me to a new realm of pleasure. His arm bands around my waist, his mouth coming down near my ear. “Can you come? Do you need my fingers, sweetheart?’

I shiver as bolts of pleasure rocket through me. In the midst of all this dirty, rough sex, this man turns tender, asking what I need. It’s the most sensual thing a man has ever done to me. Ask.

“Yes. Now. Fast,” I say, urging him on.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he says, his hand sliding between my legs, stroking and making me mindless. Stars burst behind my eyes. Pleasure swamps me and the telltale signs of an orgasm build tight in my body.

I cry out, letting him know I’m coming, and then as I do, I tell him to come on me, because that’s what I want right now. He pulls out, and seconds later, hot streams of his pleasure hit my back, and I am just lost.

I am lost in this crazy, epic pleasure as he slides a hand up my spine, spreading his release all over me.

It’s erotic and filthy, and I feel marked.

I feel like his.

Like he wants to be with me, and I want to be with him, and we’re together.

With each other.

And maybe with one other mammal. Because when I open my eyes, a fluffy black-and-white cat is on the edge of the bed, twitching her tail, staring at us.

I swear she’s smiling.

26BRYN

Laughing, I point to the feline. “Is your cat entering a staring contest?”

“It does seem that way,” he says.

The tuxedo furball rises, stretches her back, and pivots, leaping off the bed.

“I guess she’s seen enough,” I remark, still grinning. “But she did look proud of you, I have to say.”

He preens. “Goals.” Then he plants a kiss on my shoulder. “Let’s clean you up.”

After we straighten up in the bathroom, Logan brings me against him, sweeps my hair over my shoulder, and peppers kisses all across my neck. “Thank you,” he whispers, and there’s that sweet, tender man again.

I laugh, furrowing my brow as I swivel around. “What are you thanking me for? Sex?”

He takes my hand, pulls me back to bed, and hooks my leg around his hip. He faces me as we settle down into the pillows and covers. “Not sex, per se. But sex like that.”

I raise a hand as if I’m in class. “I’m still confused. Why are you thanking me for sex? I wanted to have it.”

He nuzzles my neck, dusting soft kisses there, then he pulls back to meet my eyes. “Because . . . you want it the same way I do.”

“Well, yeah. We sort of established that on the first night.”

Running a hand down my side, he nods. “I know. But you need to understand something.” He licks his lips, drawing a deep breath. “It’s like a fucking revelation with you. The sex.”

He sounds relieved and thrilled all at once, and I flashback to what he said before in his office, that our first night together was the most epic date and most epic sex. I want to understand him more, to explore the apparent truth in his words, then and now, so I ask, “You’ve always wanted it a little dominant and never had it that way?”

“Not until you.”

“And what do you think about it now?” I ask, my skin tingling, my body heating up again.

“It’s fucking amazing with you. It’s like—” He mimes an explosion.

“Mind-blowing?” I ask, unable to mask a wicked grin.

“Completely mind-blowing.”

I prop my head in my hand, still processing what he’s saying, the freshness of it. “So this is truly new to you?”

His eyes flash with vulnerability. “I’ve fantasized about it. Wanted it like this. But haven’t had it this way.”

For a moment, worry grips my chest. “Do you only want to date me because I like it when you shove my face in the pillows?”

His eyes widen, and he scoffs. “What? No. No fucking way.”