“Is this one of the three I ran into tonight, or did a new one pop up,husband?”
He ignores me. Theo chokes back a laugh as he watches us in the rear-view mirror.
Stalking through the house, Logan peels off his jacket, the stained shirt, leaving a little trail of his bow tie, cufflinks, and shirt studs on his way to the shower in our bathroom.
“When did this happen?” I’m trying to hold my giggles in, but it’s getting mighty difficult. “Ye were getting my coat, and…?”
I’d forgotten it in the box, and Logan ran back to get it for me. When he returned, he was wearing a grim expression and a glass of red wine.
His fingers slide into my hair, gripping it tightly and pulling my head back. “Turn around and I’ll unzip ye, or I’m gonna rip this dress off.”
I spin obediently and he roughly yanks the zipper down.Logan’s mouth is on mine and I’m nearly boneless with the intensity of it, of him. He pushes me back against the tiled shower wall before sliding down to kneel at my feet.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he says, putting one of my legs over his broad shoulder, thumbs opening my lower lips, stroking along them. “The first time I had my fingers in ye… I kept smelling my fingers on the flight home, remembering the taste of you, so clean. Like flowers.” Then his mouth is on me, his whiskers scratching softly along my thighs, his tongue tracing my folds. My other leg is shaking so he throws that one over his other shoulder, easily balancing me and then…
Heslurps,oh, god, he slurps on me like a meal, devouring my pussy like it was a delicacy. Greedy, with little, pleased noises that make me shiver and get wetter still. His hand twists and two fingers slide into me, rough pads of his fingers stroking, exploring, pressing and stretching me.
“I’m going to make sure you’re ready. Because I’m going to stay inside ye for a long, long time. I’m going to bury my cock in ye because ye are onfireinside…” He groans against my clitoris before sucking it into his mouth and this time I come hard, arching my pelvis and moaning, almost crying with the pleasure of it. The shower, his lips, being back home, here with my husband. The warm water patters like rain down my breasts and into his hair. Rising, he gives me his pirate grin, full lips shining and beard wet. He deliberately licks his lips, pressing each hard, sculpted inch of himself against me, hands still gripping my thighs.
I pull his head down to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips, and grab that giant cock currently pulsing against my stomach, squeezing it and enjoying his groan.
“That time in the lingerie shop? Really getting a look at ye, and not just trying to put all those hazy memories together of our first night. The size of ye, the piercings… A bit intimidating, that.” I hum, running my fingers along his shaft, appreciating the weight and hardness of him, sliding a fingertip over the silky, pierced head and thoughtfully bringing it to my mouth. “Ye taste so good.”
I want to say more, but he cuts me off with a growls and a kiss, hastily rolling on a condom before bending his knees slightly and thrusting into me, making me yelp and grip his lean hips, heels digging into his sculpted arse and feeling the flex and roll of the muscle there.
“So fecking hot,” Logan groans. “God, that’s good. You make me warm again.” His hips slam into me, pushing me back against the tile, my breath hitching. While it dinnae hurt as much as it did on that wild, insane motorcycle ride, I suspect every time with him will feel like this; stretched wide, walls pulled tight against his thickness, feeling every vein and ridge of him thrusting through me.
Feet braced, he cups my arse in those giant hands and bounces me, gaze trained down on the sight of his slick shaft pushing in and out.
“Beautiful,” he says hoarsely. “So soft. I’m gonna be inside of ye every second we can. I’m going to balance ye on my cock and make ye keep me warm for hours. And one day soon, when you’re ready…” His hips are moving impossibly fast and my back is burning from the friction against the tile. “I’m going to fuck a baby into ye. Now that you’re safe. Now that no one can hurt ye, I’m going to make a baby with ye.”
He makes a guttural sound of approval. “Ye just squeezed on me like a fist. Ye like that, aye? I’m going to love seeing ye round, and soft. You’re mine, aren’t ye? Say it. You’remine.”
Burying my face in the warm space between his neck and shoulder, I suck his wet skin, loving the texture of it. Shrieking when he bounces me especially hard, I gasp, “Aye, I’m yours. I dinnae know how this happened but I can be yours.”
He’s kissing me hard, cock hitting deeper, slower inside me, hips lazily twisting and rubbing against all kinds of soft, sensitive places Idinnae know I had. He feels heavier, thicker now and I know he’s close. Pinning me harder against the shower, my husband, this beautiful, reckless, glorious man arches his hips to push along the front of me, the piercing at the base of his cock rubs insistently, roughly against my clitoris and when he explodes inside me, I do, too. Wet, and warm, and safe. Fused together and shivering a bit.
Podger - Scottish slang for a quickie.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In which there are mimosas, brunch, and bonding.
Arabella…
Sloan, Kenna and Luna, Kai’s wife, sweep me away the next morning “for brunch” before I can do more than pull on a pair of shoes. Logan gives me a kiss goodbye, winking as they haul me out the door even though I’m desperately signing,Save me, you arse!
“Logan knows better than to make a fuss, because after last night’s debacle, ye need some girl time,” Kenna says, squeezing in next to me and slamming the Range Rover’s door shut.
“I’m hoping you’re not planning on anywhere fancy.” While they’re all wearing pretty dresses, I’m looking mighty ratty in my jeans and t-shirt. It’s one of Logan’s and while I look ridiculous in it, it’s soft and it smells like him.
We end up at a nice, unpretentious type of eatery by the River Clyde. The girls must be regulars because the hostess dinnae blink an eye at my attire. It’s a little place with a few tables crowded together on the flagstone patio. I canna help but notice that we’re the only ones out there, aside from four enormous bodyguards, including Hamish, seated in pairs at the tables on either side of us.
“I propose that we order some tasty bites, eat, and talk about nothing in particular until we can get a mimosa into Arabella here,” Luna says, eyeing me with a little grin. “Maybe two mimosas. I have to say, I’m very displeased that all the good stuff happens while I’m at home, puking my guts out.”
“Are you okay?” Shelookshealthy. Luna’s beautiful in that unearthly way, with silverish-blonde hair and blue eyes. Like a fairy princess. Next to her, I feel sturdy and a wee bit awkward.
I’m fine.Luna signs it, tapping her chest with her index finger and making a thumbs-up with a closed fist.
