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But it was always with simple acceptance.
Always with reverence.
And now with a fevered heat that made her clamp down on the wood and leather headboard. He alternated between soft and the strong as he moved down to the dip of her spine. He nipped at the fullness of her ass as it flared from her slim hips.
He licked down the cleft of her ass to where she was so very wet for him.
His indrawn breath and groan as he slipped his tongue inside of her sounded so loud in the room. Or was it her gasping breath?
She reached between her legs to find his chin and his wide mobile mouth working her, drinking her down like she was his last glass of wine or last whiskey. He hollowed her out with his tongue and licked around her fingers as she slipped inside and felt just how wet she was.
He pushed her fingers back to her clit, covered them with his own and made ruthless circles around it. Around and around, then dipping inside of her until his fingers and hers opened her wider, until she was whimpering for more.
The tease was killing her.
Finally he pulled her hand away and placed it back on the headboard. He crowded her, positioned her and slowly filled her until she had no choice but to lean back against his chest as he thrust inside of her.
With each successive thrust his hips snapped a little harder and her bones jarred.
Yes.
This is what she needed.
She covered his hands on the headboard, pushing her fingers between his until they were tightly laced there and where they were joined. No air between them. The heat of his chest scorched her back, the muscles of his thighs ground against the backs of hers.
She bent her head against the overwhelming power of him.
All of him was hers.
Sweat coated each of them and her bangs dripped with the effort, but she held on and met each brutally beautiful stroke. His groans were madness, her name a broken plea as he brought one of their linked hands down to where they were joined.
She felt the speed and slickness of each glide of his cock and when he curved their fingertips against her, she lit up like the sky.
His name scrambled in a sea of nonsense as he covered her, curled over her and drove her into the pillows and mattress. Until her body was his in every sense of the word. The slapping of their skin and the low, groaning cry that was her name so close to her neck and ear. He wrapped his arms around her and held onto her and she wasn’t sure he would ever let go.
Wasn’t sure she’d ever allow it.
He curved them onto their side, but didn’t withdraw from her. He tangled their legs and softly pulsed inside her as his hands gentled and curved around her waist and his breathing eased.
“I’m not sure if that was what was supposed to happen for dreamy in the middle of the night sex.”
“It should happen every time.” She smoothed her hands over his damp forearms. “Oh, every time.”
He laughed into her neck. “If I ask you if you’re all right, will you slug me?” She tightened her walls around his shaft and he hissed out a breath. “Have a little mercy.”
She pushed back on him and took him deeper. “There’s no mercy tonight.”
Thirty-Six
Logan stretched his arms over his head as he looked out on his back patio. The Music Life truck was backed up to his gate and the equipment was scattered all over the stone walkway. They’d taken over the atrium that butted up against his studi
o.
He’d rather have his instruments and recording deck on display instead of his living room. He didn’t use the atrium much except for when he was entertaining someone in the studio. It had its own full kitchen and bar and led out to the pool.
Kim Forrester’s eyes had bugged out and she’d ordered her assistant to start taking readings for the lighting immediately. It was only then that he’d figured out just how reclusive and private he’d become in the last few years.
He rarely did interviews and when he did, it was usually for the Summer Festival. He just didn’t have anything to say anymore. Twenty years in the business made for a broken bullshit meter. He wasn’t really all that great at listening to people kiss his ass.
