“We’ll talk about this,” he promises hoarsely, “we’ll make decisions together, but right now, I’m gonna die if I canna get inside ye again.”
My last, dim thought is hoping there aren’t any security cameras in the store before his mouth closes over mine and all rational thought is gone.
“I was gonna go slow,” he says, biting my ear slightly harder than is comfortable, “take my time. Work ye up, make ye come hard first before I put my cock in ye but it’s too late for that.” He shoves his hand inelegantly inside my leggings, two fingers driving up inside me and the heel of his hand rubbing hard against my clitoris. I shriek, but it’s smothered by his mouth, his tongue rolling against mine.
He shoves me against the wall behind a row of potted ferns and a display of corsets before kneeling and yanking my leggings down. I laugh a little wildly as he curses, struggling with the stretchy material and I yelp in alarm when I see his big fists ready to rip them off me.
“Dinnae ye dare! I have nothing else to wear back outside and this selection of transparent lace knickers isn’t gonna work for me!”
Chuckling, he finally yanks them off my legs, leaving my undies hanging around one ankle. He’s stroking his rough palms over the back of my thighs, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder and examining my center with an embarrassing level of thoroughness.
“Feck, this pretty cunt. I thought I’d imagined how sweet ye taste…” My back arches off the wall as he runs the flat of his tongue through my lips with a lewd slurp, then driving it up inside me. His dark head moves against me, feasting on my pussy with a messy, gluttonous pleasure. Impossibly, he’s pulled a condom from his jeans and he is rolling it on while sucking my clit into his mouth, chuckling darkly when my first orgasm rolls over me like a lightning storm.
Instead of standing up, he goes back on his heels and pulls me down, holding his cock in one hand and a fistful of my arse with the other.He thrusts up inside me hard and my head falls back, staring blankly at the ceiling as the slick tip of him pushes higher inside me than I knew was possible.
“I have never,” he continues, “wanted anything more than this.” He’s talking to me with his mouth against mine, the deep bass of his voice rumbling through me. We’re not kissing so much as taking in the breath of each other, his body iron hard and driving fiercely through me, his hands groping my breasts and my arse greedily.
His cockburns.
It burns and hurts as he drives it up inside me, and at first, I’m not sure I can take him but then the pain and the pleasure mix into something else, some arcane, alchemic mix that spreads through me, making my toes point and my back arch.
He bends me further back, arched over his arm, his other hand pushing gently against my heaving stomach. “I can feel myself,” Logan pants, “here.”
I let out a delirious little scream as he presses his hand hard against me. The feel of him inside and outside of me is unimaginable. It’s wild and overwhelming and so fecking sexy and it’s turning me into some kind of lunatic because I wrap my arm around his shoulder and rear up, biting his neck. Logan let out a low, harsh groan and I swear his cock doubles in size.
“Do it again.”
Logan’s fingers grip the back of my hair and push my face against his throat.“Again,”he rasps. His thighs are steel hard as he bounces me on his cock and impossibly, it gets thicker. I’m shaking and there’s a cyclone building inside me, something that sends off sparks of electricity and makes my skin burn and my muscles twitch.
“You’re dripping all over me, Bella,” he growls in my ear, “such a greedy girl, look at this messy pussy. And its mine, isn’t it?” He lightly slaps my clitoris and I’m gone, flying off into madness and wet and heat and nothing could feel better than this. Hegrowlsin my ear and his eyes, they’re nearly pitch black, his teeth bared and he comes, swelling inside me, almost unbearably too much.
We freeze, melted into each other in the moment, the aftershocks consume us both until he can finally lift me off him with a groan. His cock is shiny with my slick, there’s an embarrassing wet spot on his jeans and I canna bring myself to care.
Logan pulls my knickers back up over the mess dripping from me, settling them firmly against my hips. Smiling up at me, he runs his hand between my legs, soaking the fabric. “I want ye to feel me still in ye with every step ye take, my sweet, filthy bride.” He hauls my leggings back on and then rises with a groan, buttoning his jeans.
I should be mortified. The sales ladies are waiting outside, peering through the window, and clutching their coffee cups. They could not have seen us, but what we’ve been up to is certainly no secret.
To their credit, they’re trying not to giggle as I stagger through the door. “Ladies,” Logan says, “you’re grand at guessing a customer’s size correctly, aye?”
“Um, aye,” titters one, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Excellent. Pack up one of everything in my wife’s size. I’ll send my man in to fetch the clothes and my card.” He gallantly kisses their hands as I roll my eyes. But I canna begrudge them.
Logan MacTavishisone hell of a man.
Chapter Seventeen
In which there is a tour of the coolest house in Scotland.
Logan…
There’s complete silence in the car after Arabella is back in her seat and we’re heading to my place. Theo and Hamish, my driver and bodyguard, don’t risk a single glance back at us. After firing off a text to Xenia to check for surveillance cameras in the store and wipe any incriminating footage, I take my wife’s hand. When I squeeze it, she doesn’t squeeze back, but there’s the tiniest bit of a grin.
Her smile fades when we turn into the street that ends with four tall, narrow buildings facing each other with a green, park-like space in the center. There’s iron gating surrounding the square, and a bristle of security cameras. Mine is the “most annoyingly grandiose,” according to my sister Kenna. I love the ancient stone house with a huge clock tower, enormous chimneys, and copper roof tiles.
“Does that clock tower still work?” Arabella’s squinting up at it with interest.
“Aye, it used to strike on the hour, every hour until my cousins informed me that they were going to attach C4 to the tower and detonate it the next time I was out of town if I dinnae change it.” I pat the weathered corner of the building. “Now it chimes once a day at twelve noon.”
