shadow of worry passed through Layla’s gaze. ‘What if you change your mind before we get upstairs? I thought you were okay with taking our relationship further the other night but then you seemed to change your mind and could barely look at me, much less talk to me.’
He took one of her hands and brought it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the backs of her knuckles, his eyes locked on hers. ‘If I was a better man—a stronger man—then that’s exactly what I would do. I would reinstate the rules. But apparently I’m not as strong as I thought.’ He released her hand and bent down to retrieve her sweater, helping her put it back on like she was a small child.
She smiled as her head came out of the top of the sweater and something near his heart split open, leaking warmth into every cold and closed-off cavity of his chest. His breath hitched, his heart stuttered, his desire throbbed and pounded. He had never wanted anyone with such fervour, with such ferocity, with such frightening intensity. It was a clawing need inside him that he was worried would get out of control. Making him want her longer than the year they had agreed on. Making him want things he had sworn he would never want again. Closeness, commitment, connection beyond the physical. A lasting connection that would only get deeper, more abiding and bonding each and every year.
But it was a risk he was prepared to take because he couldn’t go another day—another moment—without experiencing the heart-stopping thrill of their intimate union.
Logan framed her face in his hands, lowering his mouth to hers in a lingering kiss, closing down his conscience, shutting away his fears, slamming the door on his damn rules.
He wanted her.
She wanted him.
That’s all that mattered for now.
Their journey to Logan’s room upstairs was a stop-start affair with kisses and caresses at various points along the way. Finally, they made it to the bed and he laid Layla down and leaned over her, kissing her lingeringly with his hands propped either side of her head, one of his knees resting on the bed near her legs. He raised his head to look down at her. ‘I can’t tell you how much I want you,’ he said, breathing as heavily as her.
‘Then don’t tell me. Show me.’ Layla wound her arms around his neck and brought his head back down so his mouth met hers.
His kiss was deep and thrilling, his tongue dancing with hers in a sexy salsa that made her spine loosen vertebra by vertebra. Her heart picked up its pace, her pulse pounding with the need to have him closer, to feel him skin on skin.
He lifted his mouth off hers to blaze a fiery trail of kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck, down lower to the shallow dish between her collarbones. She shivered in reaction, tingling from head to foot as desire swept through her in hot spreading waves. How could she have spent so many years of her life without experiencing this incredible passion? How could she experience it with anyone else? He was the one who evoked such powerful responses from her. Responses that travelled through her body with the force of a tumultuous storm. A tornado of lust that left her senses spinning in its wake.
Logan helped her out of her clothes and she did the same for him, but with nowhere near the same efficiency. Her fingers fumbled in her haste and he eventually took over the task and stripped off the last of his clothes. He applied a condom and came back down on the bed beside her, gliding his hands over her naked breasts, and her spine arched when his mouth came down to kiss around her achingly tight nipple. Layla made a moaning sound as pleasure shot through her. A dragging ache tugged deep and low in her womanhood—a need that begged to be assuaged.
He took her nipple into his mouth, his lips and tongue caressing it with such exquisite expertise she whimpered and writhed, impatient, greedy, desperate for more. He kissed the gentle slopes of each breast, paying particular attention to the sensitive undersides. She was almost breathless with excitement when his teeth softly grazed each nipple in turn, and her hips rose against him in a wordless plea for him to tame the raging desire barrelling through her body.
‘I’ll take things slowly. I don’t want to hurt you again.’ His voice was deep and low and husky.
Layla stroked her finger along the contour of his bottom lip. ‘You didn’t hurt me the first time and I don’t want you to go slowly. I need you inside me.’ She placed her hands on his buttocks and pushed him down towards her.
He drew in a sharp breath and entered her slickly, visibly fighting for control, his features contorted in a mixture of agony and ecstasy. He began to move with gentle thrusts, each one getting deeper and deeper until he was up to the hilt.
He gave a guttural groan and increased his pace and Layla was with him all the way, swept up in the primal rhythm that made her flesh sing. The need spiralled through every part of her body, building to a crescendo.
She hovered at the edge, needing more, straining to reach the final tipping point but not quite able to get there. She whimpered and moved her body against his, desperately seeking more friction. But then his hand slipped down between their rocking bodies to touch her, sending her over the edge into the throes of a powerful orgasm, intensified by his continued thrusting. She shattered into a thousand pieces, her body racked by tingling waves of sensation that went on and on and on, finally leaving her spent and limbless and breathless in his arms.
His release followed on the tail of hers and she drew vicarious pleasure from holding him through each shuddering thrust, riding out the storm with him as he tensed at the point of no return and then finally let go.
Logan lifted his head and, leaning his weight on his elbows, pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. His expression was bathed in lines of relaxation, his gaze warm and heart-stoppingly tender.
‘No regrets?’ His tone was low as a bass chord and it sent a tingly shiver cascading down her spine.
‘None from me,’ Layla said, tracing his upper lip with her finger. ‘You?’
He took her finger into his mouth and sucked on it, his gaze glinting. He released her finger and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his mouth twisting into a rueful line. ‘No. Not one. It was—you were—wonderful.’
Layla stroked her hand along his jaw from below his ear to the base of his chin. ‘Thank you for making it so good for me. I feel so at ease with you. I can’t explain why other than you seem to read my body like it’s an extension of your own. How do you do that?’
He gave a lopsided smile and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. ‘It doesn’t happen often but sometimes it just works from the start with some partners. The chemistry is right.’ He rolled away to dispose of the condom and came back to lie beside her with his elbow bent, his head propped against his hand. His other hand began a lazy journey from her breast to her thigh and back again. Slow, sensual, setting her flesh alight all over again.
Layla rolled towards him, her mouth meeting his in a scorching kiss that sent a hot wave of need shooting through her body. Her legs entwined with his, the roughness of his sending another shiver coursing down her spine. He took a handful of her hair and bunched it against her scalp, his kiss deepening, his tongue playing, teasing, tangling with hers.
He dragged his mouth away and gazed down at her with a rueful expression. ‘I’d better stop before I can’t stop. You need to get used to this gradually otherwise you could get sore.’
His tender consideration towards
