Page 147 of Chaos At Second Sight

His white teeth gleamed. “You look a little tousled. I guess eight orgasms will do that to a person.”

“I only counted seven! And stop being so full of yourself!”

“It was eight, trust me.” Something mischievous crossed his eyes. “And you were full of me. But I don’t think you minded it, did you, Bunny Doc?”

I scoffed, though I didn’t move from my spot. He smiled at me. “What are you so cheerful about?” His grin grew as I spoke. “That I can’t walk straight? Or that you caused it?”

“Yes…and yes.”

I tried to move, my body sluggish. Thank Stephen Logan lifted me and cradled me against his chest. My knees were dangling, my arms wrapped around his neck. “I can walk,” I protested halfheartedly.

“I disagree.” His hold tightened around me. “Though I can’t say I’m sorry about it. Because I’m not,” he whispered. Images of our mating crossed my mind and I hid my head in his neck…until I noticed something big.

He’s already hard. Or maybe he never softened.

He looked unconcerned by my ogling.

“Yeah. I’m hard. How couldn’t I be, with your beautiful eyes staring at my dick all the time?”

“I wasn’t! And stop listening to my thoughts!”

Logan padded across the creaking floorboards to a small triangular door, nudging it open with his shoulder, ducking beneath the frame. It led outside to a tiny wooden platform built onto the trunk, bordered by a silver railing overlooking the endless treetops. Mist coated everything in dew, the sky heavy with rain. Goosebumps popped up over my bare skin, the cool breeze reminding me of my complete lack of clothing.

Before I could ask where the shower was, a valve squeaked and I found myself under an icy downpour from the bucket-like showerhead above. Naturally, I let out an undignified shriek, loud enough to send every bird in the forest fleeing.

“I can’t believe you did that! You’re so rude!” I cried, laughing despite the cold.

“Well, I do have poor judgment,” he mocked. “Didn’t you just tell me that?”

I clung to him and his warmth. “I take it back!”

Like the gentleman he wasn’t, Logan stepped fully beneath the freezing water.

My glare met his amused eyes. “Aww, look at my furious wet bunny! Aren’t you an ice bath master?”

“When I prepare for it!”

“What’s the fun in that?”

Grinning down at me, he brushed soaked strands of hair away from my face. I blinked my water-glossed eyes at him and forgot all about the temperature, which wasn’t cold anymore. Then his mouth found mine.

The kiss was slow and sweet, almost lazy. A hungry look appeared on his face, silver eyes wandering, lingering on my nipples, long and erect thanks to his little trick.

I shifted in his thick arms, pressing to his front, legs and arms wrapping securely around my mate. He let out a low noise of appreciation.

We kissed again, tongues meeting in a slow rhythm. Each brush seemed to make my blood heavier, sweeter, until it flowed through me like that warm honey he loved.

Without breaking our contact, his hand slid lower, settled on my butt, and squeezed.

A rough groan vibrated through his chest. His fingers explored my small crack, then reached underneath me. He ran through my slick heat and worked one finger in and out, pausing to squeeze a second finger in. His long thumb moved upward to rub my clit expertly as his mouth ate all my cries.

My hand roamed, gliding over his clenching abs, and grabbed his length. It was his turn to moan now. “Yvaine…”

I stroked him once, loving how heavy yet smooth it felt, as we kept making out in the open.

“Goddess!” His voice was ragged, almost disbelieving, between kisses. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“I know,” I whimpered. “I want you more.”