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I move to Shiloh’s face, leaning over the couch to take her in up close, and my breath stutters at the sight.
During the day, when she’s smiling softly to herself, or laughing at a text message, she’s beautiful. Effortlessly, so. When she’s snapping and telling me off, her hands on her wide hips, her tits thrust forward, and her lush lips curled into a snarl; she’s hot as fuck. When she’s deep in thought, reading over a contract, or playing with her label maker, her lip tucked between her teeth and the little lines between her brows on display; she’s adorable.
But right now, asleep, free from makeup, her hair a mess, spilling across the pillows…
She’s unbelievable. I have no words. An angel sent from Heaven.
For me.
I watch her for countless minutes, unable to get enough. I pull out my phone and snap a few pictures of her, deciding I need to keep this moment in case I don’t get another like it. I fight the urge to push down the blankets and find out what she wears when she sleeps. In fact, the only reason I don’t do just that is the giant dog laying on her feet, judging me as I observe her owner.
Soon enough, I’ll have her sleeping next to me every night, and when she does, she’ll be naked, and the beast won’t be inourbed.
“Shiloh,” I whisper, already pissed off that I won’t be able to stare at her any longer, but I need to wake her up so she can tell me what the fuck is going on. She doesn’t stir, still sleeping deeply. Fuck, the things I could do to her body while she slept, completely unaware.
“Shiloh,” I say louder, an edge to my voice as my already hard cock throbs. “Wake up, Babydoll.” I reach my hand up, pushing her long brown hair from her cheek.
She leans into the touch, nuzzling my hand. My heart squeezes, and it takes everything in me not to claim her here and now.“Logan,”she whispers.
My heart stops.
Swallowing down the unexpected lump in my throat, I grasp her face more firmly, my body no longer my own. “I’m here, Shiloh.”
A soft smile creeps across her face as she rubs against my hand. My cock begins to leak in my boxers. Fuck, I need her so goddamned badly. I’ve never needed to fuck, to own, to claim, and possess anyone, the way I do her.
I want, noneed,to see her perfect golden skin covered completely in my cum. I need her so covered in my scent, inme, that no one will dare touch her or take her from me. I need her so fucking full of my seed, that she’ll be locked to me for life.
Mine, mine, mine.
“You’re not here. This is just another dream,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep. “A good one.”
God fucking damnit. This woman’s going to be the death of me.
“Babydoll, I’m here. Wake up, Shiloh.” I hate the words, even as they leave my mouth. It’s clear she has no idea she’s not dreaming, and as much as I want to keep pretending, I want this for real.
Shiloh’s smile disappears in an instant as her eyes peel open. The rich chocolate brown of her irises looks almost black in the dim lighting of the break room. If anything, it just makes her features more interesting. Her eyes are like endless, fathomless pools.
“Logan?” she rasps, her voice bordering on shrill. Well, fuck. That’s one octave from a shriek. Her head jerks back and her eyes dart around the room rapidly, as if she’s trying to remember where she is. “Oh, shit. I can—I can explain. I, uh, I—”
As I take in her panicked expression, I realize that her eyes are red and puffy, like she’d been crying. I hate that. I never want her to cry again. The need to destroy whoever and whatever made her so upset rises up in me swiftly. Her endless eyes gloss over with tears, and I snap, unable to take the look of dread on her face any longer.
“Shiloh!” I bark, and then softer, “calm down, beautiful. Everything is fine. Just tell me what happened.”
Swallowing, she glances down, taking the blanket that slipped in her panic, and the breasts that are spilling out of her tiny tank top, before yanking it back up. It takes a tremendous amount of control not to rip the offending material from her body, exposing her to me fully. I don’t want her to hide from me,ever.Every single inch of her delicious body deserves to be worshiped and devoured.
By me.
“I just, I’m,” she stammers, her voice shaky. I stand upright, no longer hovering over her body, even though the distance physically pains me.
“Breathe,” I grunt, crossing my arms, so I don’t do something stupid like wrap her in my arms. Taking a step back, I lean against the table and cock a brow, waiting for her to speak. “Explain.”
Back to the monosyllables, I guess.
“I just fell asleep working late last night, that’s all.” She shrugs, not meeting my eyes as she toys with the edge of the blanket.
“We left together. Try again.”
“Oh, um, yeah, I came back to finish the Taylor contract revisions.” Again, she shrugs, but this time she adds in a nod as if to reassure herself that the excuse is a good one.
