I grin wickedly. “Gladly.”
I shift around. Logan moves behind me and presses a hand to the middle of my back. “Need you lower. Arms stretched all the way out, face on the bed. Need to fuck you hard.”
Sparks radiate across my entire body as pleasure floods every cell, and my core grows wetter. “God, yes. Please.”
He moves behind me, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. I weigh my next words carefully. They speak volumes. But I trust him, so I give them voice.
“I’m on protection. And I’m negative,” I say, turning to look at him.
A tender smile spreads across his face, and he glides a gentle hand down my back. “Me too. Negative, that is. You’re the only one I’ve been with since . . .”
“Same,” I admit, finishing the sentence. “Same for me.”
“I want to feel you gripping me. Want you bare.”
I swallow roughly. “I want that too.”
He moves behind me, kneeling, spreading my cheeks, opening me. “Oh, sweetheart. Look at you. So fucking wet for me.”
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.
