He stilled. And then in one fluid movement, Logan picked me up, an echo of the way he’d carried me that very first night. Except this time, he carried me up the spiral staircase to the second floor of the suite. To the bedroom.
Dimmed lamps bookended a soft white bed. Logan bent and set me gently on it.
Before he could retreat, I caught his face in my hands. “You weren’t the only one who was tortured these last months, you know.”
He drew a deep breath. His eyes burned. “Good.”
I pulled his mouth to mine and he dropped to his knees in front of the bed. This kiss was decadent, slow and unhurried. Each time I tilted my head he chased me, seeking more, and it became a dance. Retreat, pursue, capture. Desire spilled through my body like warm honey.Thiswas what I wanted: slow and luxurious. I wanted someone to burn for me so white-hot his handprints branded my skin. I wanted someone to tongue his name into me, to carve his feelings into my skin with his teeth. I wanted passion and love and security—all three at the same time, no compromise. It turned outthatwas what unleashed me.
With new urgency I slid my hands under Logan’s suit jacket until he wrestled it off. He tugged at the knot of his bow tie as I fumbled to unbutton his shirt. When it fell open, I drank in the sight of him, the slashes of his collarbones meeting the hard swell of his shoulders, his firm biceps, his golden skin. The hint of abs sketching over his stomach.
“Stand up,” I said. I needed to confirm a suspicion.
Logan obeyed, standing, his eyes trained on me, so dark with desire they were almost black. I ran my fingers over the ridges of his hip bones, the black hair trailing lightly from his belly button. I swallowed hard and his cock twitched. This time Logan closed his eyes.
I unzipped his pants slowly, tugging them and his boxers down until he stepped out of both. Then Logan Arthur was naked in front of me: All six feet, two inches, firm, muscular ass, thick soccer player’s thighs, his hard length rising against his stomach. I stared in wonder. My suspicion was right. He was bigger than any man I’d ever been with, his size something I’d felt through his clothes and wondered at. I resisted the sudden urge to joke that while he may not talk soft, Logan did carry a big stick.
He opened one eye and looked down at me. “Fuck, Alexis. Say something.”
I told him the truth. “Everything about you makes me very nervous and very happy at the same time.”
He loomed over me, all height and bulk, and smiled, small and soft. Briefly, I felt the fear that comes with wanting someone so deeply you know nothing in your life will ever be the same. Then Logan said, “I know exactly what you mean.” And the fear melted away.
I reached out, taking his hard length in my hand, stroking him softly at first and then more insistently, getting used to his size. I built a rhythm that had Logan groaning until he suddenly arched up on the balls of his feet and stilled me. “Stop—you have to stop.”
He bent to pick up his wallet and pulled a condom out of it. I slid back on the bed, watching as he rolled it on deftly. Then, without warning, Logan grinned and seized my ankles, dragging me back to him while I yelped.
“Tell me more about what you imagined,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.
I willed courage. “You inside me, over and over. All night. Until neither of us can walk.”
His eyes shut briefly. “Yeah,” he rasped. He sat next to me on the bed and pulled me on top of him. “Well. You know I live to serve.”
He cupped my jaw, kissing me feverishly. Slowly, I sank onto him, gasping into his mouth when he filled me so deep I had to still for a moment. This was going to be it for me, wasn’t it? I was going to become addicted to this man, to this feeling, and there would be no going back.
Logan gripped my waist and rolled his hips, pushing deeper. I sucked in a breath, fingernails digging into his shoulders. And then, as soon as my body adjusted, the switch flipped. All I wanted was more. I ground against him.
Logan’s lips skimmed my ear. “Trust me,” he whispered. Then he swept his hands to my back and dipped me lower, changing the angle.
I almost cried out. Every movement sent him so deep. That feeling started to build again, except this time it was almost unrecognizable in its depth, as if I was drawing from a deep untapped well of sensation. When I moaned, it was a ragged sound.
“Good,” he coaxed, gripping my hips.
I stopped thinking and let go, riding him until we were both sweating and gasping, until my fingernails left half-moon marks in his biceps, until I was nothing more than the steady pulse between my thighs. He re-angled me and thrust deeper, clutching at my hair, sucking my lip, and I shattered, coming so hard it hit me in waves, refusing to be done with me. I crumpled and he pulled me into his chest.
“Shh.” He spoke into my damp hair. “Catch your breath so we can go again.”
I looked up at him, my chest heaving, gasping for breath, and he grinned. “You gave me orders. All night. Every position. There’s no way I’m letting you down. So buckle up.”
Good God. Alexis Stone: not a mouse. A sex genius..
Hours later we lay tangled, bodies spent. I suspected I’d come apart more in one night with Logan than I had in all my past relationships combined. His eyes were closed, his face so close our noses touched. I stroked his hair. It was wrecked, sticking up in every angle. Logan Arthur, fierce brash man, was now tender and vulnerable.
His long lashes stirred against the pillow and he opened his eyes, smiling drowsily. “Hey, you. What’s that look for?”
“This feels like the part where I wake up and realize it was all in my head.”
Logan’s eyes turned worried, but I smiled. “It’s okay. We said one night. I know your life’s up in the air until the election. But you’re going to win, and then everything will be...”Then there will be no chance for us.I swallowed. “Great. You’ll finally have your dream.”
