Page 38 of Winter’s Fire

A mass of emotion came to life inside her, powerful enough to change not just the way she saw herself, but the way she saw Logan too, and though she couldn’t identify it, she wasn’t frightened by it, either.

Light pressure from his fingertips against her jaw guided her head to a position where she couldn’t avoid drinking in the sight of him. The tenderness in his touch robbed her of everything but an awareness of him—his closeness, the scent of him, the lips she wished would ease the tight curls of roiling need threatening to spiral out of control.

No, they were already out of control—her control, at any rate. She’d relinquished that to Logan, and had not the remotest desire to take it back.

“Yes, Sir?”

The words spun from her lips of their own accord. His palm was warm where it cupped her cheek, his thumb gentle as it stroked the fullness of her lower lip. She opened her mouth, just enough to capture the tip of his thumb and swirl her tongue around it.

“You don’t need to call me that now—we’re not in a scene.”

“I know. It’s just… I like the way it makes me feel.” The truth in the words should have stunned her, but instead, she greeted it with acceptance.

A subtle shift took hold of Logan. She watched the hunger inside him grow, until it became as voracious as her craving for him. He came closer, closer, and finally his lips on hers administered the blessing she longed for.

No man had ever been able to make her feel this way with something as simple as the touch of his lips. She was addicted—not just to what he’d done, the pleasure he’d gifted to her, but to the man himself. The drug that was Logan Simmonds had saturated her soul, and changed her forever.

Cradled in his arms, skin to skin, Lucy closed her eyes. Bathed in contentment, she was barely aware of Logan manoeuvring her into a more comfortable position, so their bodies aligned even more closely.

“Hey.”

“Mm?” Utterly sated, she gave the best response she could muster. “What?”

“I changed my mind about what you’re wearing for the club.”

“You have? Why?”

“You’re not trying to hook up with a Dom, so no sense in looking as if you’re available. I think the black outfit would be better.”

Availability was obviously measured in inverse proportion to the amount of clothing, then, since the black outfit covered marginally more of her than the one he’d originally specified. Relieved she wasn’t going to be as exposed as she’d feared, she nestled a little closer to Logan. “Okay. I mean, yes, Sir. Anything else?”

“Just one more thing.” He tapped her mound. “Open up.”

Her eyes shot open, all her lethargy evaporating in a flash. “But, Sir, we’ve only just finished!”

His chuckle was downright filthy. “Oh no, princess. We’ve only just started.”

~~*~~

She was truly exquisite, a woman sated with pleasure, who’d given everything he’d demanded of her. Even now, her body still quivered from the last orgasm he’d drawn from her.

He’d allowed her to rest for a while after their first scene. As much as it had left her drained enough to sleep, the effect on him had been as profound, but in a different way. It had left him hungry to take her again, so he had.

He inhaled deeply. The scent of her bewitched him. Unable to deny himself any longer, Logan closed his lips on the sensitive curve of her neck. Sweet heaven was the taste of her, but pure sin was in the low moan that flowed from her lips straight to his cock.

Her gaze met his when he touched the side of her neck, and flashed fire when he trailed his fingers downwards, to the inviting valley between the soft mounds of her breasts.

“He was a fucking idiot.”

“Who?”

“The dickhead who let you go, princess.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Princess?” Logan kissed his way from her neck to her breastbone, his lips following the path his fingers had taken. He took his time, though his cock was almost frantic to plunge deep inside her again. “There was a time when I thought you were an ice princess. Cold.”

A kiss.