Page 142 of Chaos At Second Sight

Logan moaned deeply, his eyes hooded but watching my every move.

I slid the underside of his cock through my still-pulsating folds before I pressed his tip against me.

Our gazes stayed locked when we slowly became one. Or tried to.

I barely had the wide tip in and Logan was already losing it.

His head snapped backward, the cords in his neck straining. “Yeah. Just like that.”

With just a quarter in, I raised my hips. Logan looked at himself, then at my entrance, then at himself once more and frowned. “My love…there’s no rush. I, ah—” His nostrils flared. “Can prepare you better. We can take our time…” He blew out an exhale; it sounded like it was pulled from the depths of his soul.

“As tempting as that sounds…” My hips dropped down again, taking a few more inches, though I wasn’t even close to having all of him. “I’m managing this mating, remember?”

His laugh was warm yet airy, his fingers slowly circling my clit, making the stretch more tolerable. He was good. Too good.

I took more and more of him, surprising us both, until the stretch was too much, until I was so full of Logan, my vision went blurry.

He was panting when I finally sat on him, though an inch or two was still out. My thighs strained as my channel struggled to adjust to his size.

“So thick,” I moaned out, closing my eyes.

His breathy chuckle turned into a choke when I sank down again. “And you are so…tight.” His lips peeled back from his teeth. “Yeah. So fucking tight. Oh Goddess, give me strength!”

His abdomen clenched hard and his hands squeezed my hips. His face darkened as he pinned me with his gaze.

Waiting.

Giving me control.

I trembled and moved in a steady rhythm, wrapping myself around him and retreating. Each descent stretched me, each rise coating him with more of my arousal.

It was such a rush, feeling him, taking him, riding him. He was like no one else, from that blinding beauty and his masculinity to his concealed, precious heart.

I whined at the sting and quick bite of pleasure, and Logan answered with a pleased hum. “You feel so good. So much better than in my fantasies.”

A new, warm, almost overwhelming sensation started to build deep in my stomach, and those bursts of pleasure helped me take more of him. And Logan? Well, I wished I could take a picture of him right now. He was watching me through languid eyelids, messy hair falling all over his forehead, lips slightly parted. He looked completely bewitched.

I rode him faster, clamping down harder, demanding my pleasure and taking all he had to offer. My hips rocked with the help of his strong hands, and I felt him under me, solid and ready.

I pulsed around him, the mind-blowing ecstasy rushing through every part of me. He made an odd yet sexy sound in response, a mix between a growl, a male moan, and a whimper.

“Yvaine,” he gritted out, jaw tense, a predatory glint in his silver depths. “Don’t…do…that…”

I did it again and again until I came all over him, coils unwinding in my belly, and he growled, again and again.

Then he snapped. He grasped my hips, flipped us, and pinned me under him, thrusting my knees up and apart.

“Wrap your legs around me.” His voice dropped to a husky, thrilling promise. “And don’t let go.”

I might have stopped breathing at that commanding tone but I did exactly as he asked. My trembling legs locked around his waist.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

And from then on, Logan reigned.

He drew his hips back before sinking into me in one hard stroke, the sparks there making me cross-eyed.

I cried out as he buried himself deeper, every thrust more urgent and demanding than the last. The growls rumbling through his chest were animalistic, almost a warning, his hips swaying at an impossible rhythm.