The tension builds, coiling tighter and tighter in my core.
“Logan,” I gasp. “I’m close.”
“Let me feel you, baby.” His hand slides between us, fingers finding my clit, and that’s all it takes.
I come with a cry, clenching around him.
“Holy shit,” I finally manage.
Logan lifts his head, eyes bright and satisfied. “Yeah?”
He flips us so I’m straddling him, hands finding a place on his chest for balance.
His mouth curves into a wolfish grin, hands gripping my hips. “Ride me. I want to watch you take what you need.”
I lift up slowly, and slide back down, feeling every inch. We both groan at the sensation.
“God, yes,” he breathes, eyes locked on mine. “Just like that, baby.”
I start to move, rolling my hips, finding a rhythm that makes us both gasp.
His hands slide from my hips to my waist to my breasts, touching everywhere he can reach, like he can’t get enough.
“Look at you. So strong. So perfect. Somine,” he says, voice awed.
The word sends a thrill through me.
Mine.
I am his. And he’s mine.
I pick up the pace, riding him harder, chasing the pleasure building in my core.
Logan’s hands grip my hips, helping me move, guiding me, and when his thumb finds my clit, I cry out.
“That’s it,” he urges. “Come with me, baby. One last time.”
I do, shuddering through my release, and the sight of me coming undone pushes Logan over the edge. He sits up, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close as he comes, my name a broken prayer on his lips.
We stay like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, hearts racing in sync.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too,” he says. “So fucking much.”
Logan pulls me against his chest, arm wrapped tight around me.
“Hey,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my hair.
“Hmm?”
“I meant what I said earlier. About you being my end game.”
I tilt my head back to look at him. “I know.”
“Do you, though?” His eyes are serious now. “Because I need you to really hear this. You’re it for me, Sloane. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know where I’ll end up. But I know that wherever I go, I want you with me.”
My throat tightens. “Even if Chicago still wants you next year?”
