Page 97 of Winter’s Fire

He glanced at the sofa, doing a swift mental comparison with the very large, very comfortable bed a short distance away—no contest. “I prefer you where you belong.”

“And where’s that?”

Logan lifted her into his arms. He loved the way hers automatically went around his neck. “In our bed.”

Or in a private room at Aegis. That would work, too. The things he could show her…

He kicked the bedroom door closed behind him, and that was where he hesitated. He wanted this to be good for Lucy, the best, and though he wanted to take her fast and hard, he was going to give her the time and gentleness she deserved.

“Logan?”

He met her gaze.

“If you put me down, I promise I won’t vanish into thin air.”

He let her down slowly, all the time keeping close body contact with her. Her eyes widened, and he detected the hint of a giggle when she discovered exactly how much he wanted her.

“I think we need to do something about that, Sir.”

“We will. Undress for me.”

Rage flared white-hot for a moment when he caught sight of the residual bruises, the evidence she still bore as a result of their captivity, bringing back the dreadful memories of the treatment she’d suffered at the hands of the bastards who’d wanted to sell her as a sex slave.

Her smile disappeared. She glanced down at her body, and when she looked at him once again, all he saw was her compassion and understanding reaching out for him.

“It’s the past, Logan.” She gestured towards her body. “This is temporary. The bruises are already fading, the cuts are healing, and everything’ll be gone in just a few more days, as if it never happened. Don’t think about it.”

“Are you telling me it hasn’t given you nightmares?”

“Every night.” Lucy came to him, beautiful, desirable, and so incredibly strong. “I can’t let the nightmares win, because that means they win. If I look at my body, and all I see are the bruises, and all I think of is how I got them, they win. I can’t allow that to happen. The bruises will go, and so will the nightmares, but I’ll still be here. I’m not the same person I used to be—I’m stronger and better than that now, and I’m yours. I’ll always be yours. I love you.”

Logan palmed the back of her head, gripped her hair between his fingers, and pulled, angling her face for a kiss. His anger towards their captors turned to raw, savage passion as he ground his mouth against hers.

“You’ve always been strong, and better than I’ll ever be or deserve. Into bed, so I can show you how much I love you.”

He was aware of her gaze on him as he stripped off his clothing. He was also aware of the effect she had on his body. As if he could help it. The highly desirable woman with whom he intended to spend the rest of his life was looking at him as if she wanted to eat him. Alive. Lightly sautéed in butter, maybe with a touch of garlic, and seasoned to taste.

The feeling was mutual.

Logan slid beneath the cool, cotton sheet with one thing, and one thing only, on his mind—pleasuring his woman until she was so far gone, she’d agree without question to what he planned. Her lips opened willingly beneath his mouth—she was as hungry for him as he was for her. His hand moved impatiently from her cheek to her breast, cupping her lush flesh so he could pinch her already hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Her swift gasp went straight to his groin. Without any prompting from him, she draped her leg over his thigh and used him for leverage to bring her mound into intimate contact with his balls and the root of his dick. Shit, she was driving him crazy with lust already—if she carried on like this, he’d never last.

“Slow down, Luce—we have all night.”

“Not long enough.”

His woman was insatiable—as if he didn’t already know that. She’d come so far over the last few weeks. Then again, thanks to her, so had he. It might take a while to get used to the feeling, but the past was finally loosening its hold on him—they were free to enjoy each other, and free to enjoy the future spread like a feast before them.

“Agreed. How does the rest of our lives sound?” Even then, it wouldn’t be enough. A thousand years wouldn’t be enough. Forever and beyond… maybe. He’d always love this woman—she’d brought him to life, and he’d spend forever worshipping at her feet. She was his love, his life… his wife.

She went still. “Logan?”

“You’re going to marry me.” It was a given.

“I am?”

“You are.”