“Well, I’m not hiding anything.”
She gasps as I lift her onto the counter, step between her legs, and pull her closer.
Her hands fumble with the buttons of my shirt. “You still sore from the game?”
“I’m about to be sorer.”
“Logan. I might need a break,” she says. “You kind of wrecked me.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to work on being gentle.”
I press her back, lips grazing her collarbone, then lower until I’m kneeling between her thighs. Her fingers grip the edge of the counter as I taste her, slow and deep.
She lets out a cry that hits me right in the chest.
And all I can think is: this—this—is what I’ve been playing for.
And I finally feel like I’m in the right game.
Chapter Twenty-One
CASSIE
His hands are on me like he’s starving. Fingers threading into my hair, mouth crashing into mine with a force that says he’s done holding back. I clutch at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as if I could fuse us together right here in the kitchen.
“God, I missed this,” he growls against my lips. “Missedyou.”
Before I can reply, he’s lifting me onto the counter, lips trailing down my neck, down the valley between my breasts. He rips my shirt open—buttons pinging to the floor. His mouth closes over one nipple and I cry out, arching into him.
It’s messy. Desperate. Raw.
He tugs off my shirt, then he’s on his knees, spreading my thighs with firm hands and diving in like a man possessed.
“Oh, fuck—Logan—” I grab the edge of the counter, knuckles white. He devours me, tongue ruthless and patient all at once. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. Not until I’m shaking, hips grinding against his face, legs trembling as I fall apart around him.
He rises, licking his lips, eyes dark and hungry.
“You look so goddamn good when you come.”
Then he’s kissing me again—wild, wet, tasting myself on his tongue—and lining himself up, dragging the thick head of his cock against my slick folds.
“You ready?” he pants.
I nod, biting my lip. “Be gentle though.”
“I can go easy. Babe. You’re my first priority.”
He thrusts in slow at first, working himself in…
And then gradually, carefully, he moves faster. We both moan—deep, guttural, like something primal just snapped free. He fills me completely, stretching me in a way that makes my head fall back and my mouth drop open.
He stills for a beat, foreheads pressed, both of us breathing like we just ran a marathon.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the morning you walked out on me,” he murmurs. “Every night. Every time I touched myself. It was alwaysyou.”
That breaks me.
I kiss him with everything I have. I roll my hips up to meet his, and he starts moving—slow at first, then faster, harder, deeper. The sound of our bodies meeting echoes off the walls. We’re all tangled limbs and frantic hands. His fingers dig into my skin, our lips brushing, teeth grazing, breaths between us hot and ragged.
