His hands slide down my back, pulling me flush against him, and I gasp as warmth unspools low in my stomach. Electricity buzzes under my skin, but I clamp down on it, forcing it into the cage of control he taught me to build.
“Don’t hold back.” He breaks the kiss just long enough to speak. “Not with me. Noteverwith me.”
“But I might?—”
“I can handle it,” he says, lower now, with an edge that doesn’t sound like reassurance. It sounds likeneed.“I want to feel everything you’re feeling. Everything youare.”
His desperation catches me off guard. Because Logan asks for very little. He takes care of everyone else, carries every burden without complaint, and deflects anyone’s attempt at taking care of him. But right now, he’s asking me for this like my electricity is the only thing standing between him and a threshold I can’t see.
The plea cracks me open, and electricity surges hot along my nerve endings, sparks racing beneath my skin. But instead ofcontaining it, I let it flow outward, through my palms and into him.
Logan shudders, a full-body one that rolls through him like a shockwave. His skin flushes hot, and a sound tears out of him that’s somewhere between a groan and a gasp, desperate in a way that makes my stomach drop.
“There she is,” he says, like I’ve given him the one thing he’s been starving for.
Then we’re stumbling to the bed, shedding clothes between kisses. His shirt hits the floor first, then mine, and when his bare chest presses against my skin, the spark that jumps between us is literal.
“Sorry,” I gasp, but he’s already shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize.” He lowers me onto the bed, his body covering mine. “Don’t ever apologize for being exactly what you are.”
“A walking electrical hazard?”
“A storm.” He kisses my neck, my collarbone, and the spot above my heart. His lips are warmer than when he first kissed me, as if the electricity is heating him from the inside out. “You’remystorm.”
The possessiveness in his tone makes me arch up against him, desperate for more. And then his hands are everywhere, touching me like he’s been studying me for years, like he knows every inch of my body better than I know it myself.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth. “All of you.”
“I’ll always love you,” he says, and then he’s inside me, and I stop seeing anything at all.
We move together like we were made for this. Storm and fire, chaos and control. Electricity races through my veins, silver sparks dancing across my skin, and Logan doesn’t flinch away from it. Instead, he leans in, his body arching into the current like he’s chasing it.
The pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter, the edge approaching with terrifying speed.
“Look at me,” Logan says, cutting through the haze.
When I meet his eyes, he’s looking at me like his world is smoke and I’m the flame.
“Now,” he breathes. “Let go.”
I do, and the release crashes through me like a lightning strike, electricity exploding outward in silver arcs that illuminate the room.
Logan follows a moment later, his body going rigid above me, a raw sound tearing from his throat as he spills himself inside me.
For several seconds, neither of us moves. We just breathe, tangled together, my magic settling back under my skin.
Then his eyes flicker with an ancient, otherworldly darkness that I’ve only seen once before—on the Crown.
“What are you?—”
Black flames erupt around us, and reality fractures, pulling me through that dark, endless vortex. Then I’m back on the edge, that coiling pressure building all over again, Logan moving inside me with the same desperate rhythm.
“What—” I gasp, but he swallows the word with a kiss.
“Relax,” he murmurs against my lips. “Justfeel.”
And I do.
