“You ever been tied up, Cassie?” he murmurs.
I shake my head, lips parted. “Not yet.”
He leans in, breath brushing my ear. “Then tonight’s your lucky night.”
Chapter Four
CASSIE
The hotel door shuts with a softclick.
Before I can turn, he tosses the bag of toys down and then he’s already on me.
We didn’t gotoocrazy. Just got some cuffs, a little vibe, a blindfold, restraints…maybe some clamps.
Half were his idea, half were mine.
A hand wraps around my waist, spinning me, and then—slam—my back hits the wall. A gasp explodes from my throat, but it’s swallowed instantly by his mouth crashing into mine. He’s hard and demanding, like he’s been waiting all night to devour me.
His chest presses against mine, all muscle and heat and urgency. My breasts ache from the contact, crushed beneath his weight in the best possible way. I moan into his mouth, and that only spurs him on.
“Goddamn,” he mutters, lips dragging down my jaw. “That sound…do it again.”
I don’t mean to obey. But I still do.
Imoan-groan—or something like that—as he grips my hips tight, pinning me in place, and I can feel how hard he is through his jeans. And I mean—hard. My body responds like it’s beenwaiting for this moment for years. I roll my hips once, slow, just to see what he’ll do.
His hand flies to my jaw, tilting my head so he can look me in the eye.
“Careful,” he growls. “You keep moving like that, and I won’t make it to the bed.”
My pulse stutters.
“Then don’t,” I whisper.
His mouth curves into a sinful grin. “Ohh, you’re trouble, Darlin’.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. “The kind I like.”
He leans in again, and this kiss is filthier—teeth, tongue, heat. One hand cups the back of my head while the other drags down my thigh, lifting it so he can slot his hips between mine. He grinds against me once. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I whimper.
Logan pulls back just enough to speak against my lips. “Still sure?”
My answer is immediate.
“Fuck yes.”
His hands are everywhere—gripping my hips, sliding up my ribs, cupping my face like he wants to memorize every inch. But it’s thewayhe touches me that undoes me—possessive, assured, like he knows exactly what I need before I do.
His lips find mine again, bruising and perfect.
And then he pulls back, just enough to murmur between kisses:
“So what…”kiss“…haven’t you done…”kiss“…that you want to try…”kiss“…with your one-night stand tonight?”
My breath stutters.
