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“Maybe I’ll bend you over the desk in my office, rip your skirt up the middle and give myself a view of that perfect ass and your swollen, aching heat.” He hums as if that’s exactly what he wants. “I’ll spread your legs, fall to my knees behind you, and then bury my face right here, where my fingers are.”
“Logan,” I moan.
“That’s right. You’ll scream my name, and only my name. No one else has access to you but me.”
I’m trembling in his grasp as he switches our position—me in his seat with him kneeling on the floorboard between my legs.
“Yes, yes. Only you. Swear.” He’s teasing me, driving me wild with desire until he finally ends my torture and glides two fingers inside me. I gasp at the ecstasy of him filling me, panting another, “I swear.”
His mouth parts in awe while I buck and writhe, and I’m given a single, scorching glance before his tongue flattens against me.
“Ohfuck. Ohfuck,” I cry out in a rush, but he’s not just licking, he’s breathing me in and growling against my slick, sensitive flesh as he pistons his fingers inside me.
He feeds himself my taste, sucking at his fingers with every retreat as I helplessly watch, nearly combusting when his eyes flick to mine, filled with rapture. “Fucking hell, I’ve missed this pussy, Penelope.”
My fingers grip his hair as he brings me to the brink of what promises to be a soul-shattering orgasm. With expert finesse, he rapidly curls his fingers three times, then gradually pumps in and out, repeating the same motion and sending bolts of pleasure through my entire system. “You’ll be ready just like this when I finally have you—when you finally give in. So wet, so eager for me to take you that you’ll fall to your knees and crawl for me.”
The very idea of crawling for him pings stars behind my eyes, and I close them, surrendering myself to this pleasure completely. My skin flushes, alive with the pleasure pooling deep within my core. “I-I want you to take it. Please.”
“We’re going to use those toys of yours, too,” he says, licking his lips, watching evidence of my arousal continue to coat his fingers. “Would you like that?”
“Yes. Fuck yes,” I moan. “I’m about to… I’m right there.”
“Come for me, sunshine. Give me what I’m after while you take what you need,” he says before flicking his tongue over my clit one last time.
I reach for him, my mouth gaping open as I rise to meet the tide that waits to swallow me whole. He cradles me into his chest, and as promised, kisses his name from my lips—capturing my moans, and matching their intensity when I shout.
The car rolls to a stop the moment Logan pulls his hand from between my legs, and I’m half tempted to clamp them shut and keep him there.
“You’re not mine to cage, but possess you, I will.” I search his gaze and find there’s no mistaking his meaning.
Just as he had before, and as he plans to do now.
Mind. Body. Soul.
It won’t be long before I give in to him entirely.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Logan
With her feet tucked between my thighs, I gently stroke Penelope’s bare legs, seeking comfort through touch only she can provide. Not even an hour ago, she was coming undone in my arms, giving me those delicate, sexy whimpers I’m already craving more of.
“We’re here, sir,” Javier says as we pull up to a cluster of multi-colored row houses on either side of the Seaside strip.
My other hand alternates between massaging patterns up the slender column of her neck and twirling her dark, soft hair around my fingers.
Hard to tell if my anxiety results from meeting new people or this fragile glimmer of trust she’s offering me. But it’s clear this place means something to her, and more than anything, I don’t want to fuck this up.
“Relax,” she says, rubbing my wrist and stilling my busy fingers. Relief is instantaneous when she kisses the pad of my thumb. “They’re going to think you’re great.”
In the center of the building, between two adjoined homes—one white, the other naked brick—is the group home where Penelope volunteers. A small stoop precedes a plain, tan door, and the garbage can on the curb overflows with trash and debris.
Javier helps her out of the back seat, and the moment the door opens, she bolts for the trunk. She grabs as many grocery bags as she can carry, then bounds up the steps. “What are you waiting for? Come on!”
I shake my head at her childlike excitement, pausing to glance around Seaside Avenue.
The island’s dormant volcano, Mount Serenity, rises behind miles of waterfront homes beyond the strip, making for a breathtaking view. But it’s the beaches lining the backsides of the buildings where these homes are settled that gives the area real estate appeal.
