“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”
The groan that rumbles from his chest lights every fuse inside me.
His thigh slots between mine, pressing up in a way that makes my back arch and my pulse jackhammer. His hands bracket my waist, firm and claiming, like he’s daring me to move—daring me torun—even though he knows I won’t.
“Still with me?” he murmurs, lips dragging down my jaw to the spot just under my ear that makes my knees go soft.
“Barely,” I whisper, fingers flexing against his back. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
He tilts his head and kisses me again—deeper this time, slower, as though he’s tasting every sound I make. His hands slide up my sides, framing my ribs, his fingers flexing into my skin.
Logan doesn’t just kiss me.
Heownsme.
And I give him all of me willingly.
He shifts, pressing closer, until my back hits the wall again, and I vaguely wonder when we moved away from it. I suck in a breath, but it gets caught somewhere behind my teeth when he leans in again—this time nipping at my bottom lip, tugging just hard enough to send a shiver racing down my spine.
“Fuck,” I whisper, eyes fluttering closed.
His voice is rough velvet. “You love this, don’t you?”
I nod, dazed. “Yeah.”
He drags his hand up my chest, fingers grazing my throat before curling gently under my jaw, tilting my face up. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until his thumb strokes over my lip, and he whispers, “Good boy.”
My brain short-circuits.
A noise escapes me—half-moan, half-whimper—and Logansmirkslike he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Which…he obviously does.
Then he slides his hand down between our bodies, wrapping around me—and suddenly, I’m not pressed to the wall for balance. Ineedthe wall.
My forehead tips to his shoulder, breathing ragged, heart pounding so hard I swear he can feel it.
He strokes me slow and deliberate, savoring every sound I make. His other hand curls behind my neck, using his thumb to angle my head up, pulling my mouth back to his for another deep kiss—filthy and possessive and perfect.
When he breaks it, he murmurs, “Bed. Now.”
I don’t even argue. Ican’t.
He leads me backward, lips ghosting down my neck, guiding me with steady hands until the backs of my knees hit the mattress.
I fall back.
He follows.
And then Logan’s on top of me—knees bracketing my hips, eyes dark with lust and something deeper. Something that feels terrifying and right all at once.
“You’re mine tonight, Captain.”
I nod, breathless. “Yeah. I’m yours.”
And when he sinks down over me, dragging a groan from deep in my chest, I believe it.
Every single word.
