Logan put a few inches between them, pulling his fingers out.
Lacy frowned and shook her head. “Don’t?—”
“Shh. Lift your shirt, Lace.”
With clumsy, shaking fingers, she managed to tug the hem above her breasts. He’d had a hard time keeping his eyes above her neck all night. Somehow he had found a way. It probably helped that her overprotective brother and Tyson had been at the table.
Now, he took time to enjoy the feast. Logan had known Lacy her entire life, so he knew down to the day when she’d gotten boobs. However, back then, she’d been a kid while he had been a man, and the only thing he’d done with the knowledge that she was filling out was tease the fuck out of Evan with it, claiming he’d have to beat the boys away with a stick.
Logan shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be staring at Lacy’s tits like a starving man eyeing a steak. But he couldn’t look away. He reached out and tugged her silky bra down, cupping the bottom of her breasts to push them out and over the material. The second her pink nipples appeared, all bets were off.
He lowered his head, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. Lacy’s hands found his hair once more, and she used her grip to hold him in place. The effort was wasted. He wasn’t going anywhere. He increased the suction, taking it to that place right on the borderline between pleasure and pain.
He was just about to ease off when Lacy groaned. “Harder.”
Logan struggled with the request. He didn’t want to hurt her, scare her. Rather than give in, he cupped her other breast with his hand, squeezing the generous flesh. She fidgeted on his lap, seeking relief as she tried to press her crotch against his.
He lifted his head, forced himself to look at her. This was Lacy. She didn’t deserve for him to give her false hope or the impression that this would lead somewhere. Nothing could come from this because he couldn’t be the kind of man she wanted, that she deserved.
What the fuck was he doing?
She didn’t appear to notice his hesitance. Instead, she covered his hand on her breast and peered at him with sultry fuck-me eyes. “Pinch my nipple,” she whispered.
His thumb and forefinger were there before his brain could engage. He applied pressure as he studied her face. Lacy never looked away as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, not with embarrassment, but with longing.
Once again, he held back. It went against everything in his nature to stop, but he had to. He had sworn he wouldn’t settle for another vanilla relationship. Wouldn’t hide his dominant urges, his need for control. Lacy wasn’t the woman he needed. She was sweet and loving. The kind of girl a man married. Not the kind you tied to your bed and fucked like a two-bit hooker.
“Please.” Lacy bit her lip, her tone rife with frustration. “I need…I need…”
A light went on inside his brain. He increased the pressure and pinched her nipple hard.
He was rewarded by her loud moan as Lacy threw her head back in absolute bliss. She was responding to the pain.
Logan’s cock thickened even more and he found it difficult to suck in a deep breath.
Fuck him.
This was bad. Really bad.
He needed to call a halt, to get out of here before he lost the battle.
Unfortunately, Lacy’s actions sealed her fate. And his.
She reached down to stroke her clit, two of her fingers sliding into her own body. The damn woman intended to give herself an orgasm.
Hell no.
The Dom inside came roaring to the forefront. His women were not responsible for finding their own pleasure. Not unless he told them to so he could watch.
He gripped her wrist firmly, stopping her actions.
Lacy tried to shrug him off. She was too close and out of her mind with need to understand what she was doing.
“Stop, Lacy. Now!”
Her entire body froze as his deep-voiced command came out too forcefully, too loud.
“Logan—”
