He’d fantasized about f**king her for months. Hell, he had so many scenarios in his head that sometimes he thought he could f**k her for a decade and never experience all of them.
But this one he’d never envisioned.
This one he’d never allowed himself to have because he’d known what it would do to him. The very thought of having her, here in his home, where he would never eradicate her memory, did things to him he couldn’t consider.
A flood of sensation seemed to wrack his body as every muscle tightened furiously. Slowly, exquisitely slowly, her lips parted further, accepting the intimacy of his tongue with tentative excitement as he licked against hers.
Her hands stroked over his shoulders, her breathing becoming hitched as her heart pounded as furiously as his. Tightening his grip on her hips, he dragged her closer, lifting her. Pulling her against his body. Running his hands to the luscious curves of her ass, he had to hold back a groan of sheer male hunger. Gripping, lifting her before he could stop himself, Logan had her on the center island and her legs curled around his h*ps as he pushed the hardened ridge of his c**k against the heated, wet warmth between her thighs.
She was short, curvy, delicate as hell, and he fit between her thighs perfectly. Pushing the thin, incredibly soft fluff of her gown and robe over her hips, he groaned in need, and realization.
She wore no panties.
His hands slid beneath the material to her back.
God, she was killing him with this need for her.
His dick was throbbing in a little happy dance that was driving him insane as she pressed more firmly against him.
The rasp of denim against the sensitive engorged head of his c**k became an erotic agony. He wanted to slide his hardened flesh into her soft, liquid heat. And it was liquid. That sweet syrup was flowing from her, preparing her, and dampening his jeans.
The need to f**k her was a hunger he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to walk away from. And there couldn’t be anything in his life that he couldn’t walk away from. He couldn’t allow it.
But he couldn’t walk away from her either.
Her thighs tightened at his hips, her legs curling around the backs of his thighs.
Her lips rubbed against his, parted and accepting, her tongue stroking against his, tasting him as he tasted her.
A rush of pure sensual adrenaline flooded his system, intoxicating him faster than liquor.
The need to have her became a furious, driving impulse he could no longer restrain.
Never, not in his entire sexual life, had he known a need such as the one he felt at this moment.
Dawn was just hours away. Darkness wrapped around them, the night spiced with summer’s heat. It met with the surging, blistering heat of their desire, flaming so bright inside them that Logan felt a moment of sharp male trepidation.
Just enough to throw the thinnest shred of reason into the mix. Enough to assure him he was getting so f**king deep over his head that drowning was an imminent possibility.
It was becoming a certainty.
Such a certainty that he found himself giving up.
Giving in.
He didn’t even have the will to fight.
The only thing left inside him was the hunger for this woman.
Releasing the tie of the robe between her br**sts, he pushed the thin material over her arms. Releasing her from it, he then pushed the straps over her shoulders, lowering them slowly as she lifted her arms free as the material pooled at her hips. Within a heartbeat his hands were beneath her br**sts. He had the warm, addicting weight of them filling his palms as he caught the hardened ni**les between thumb and forefinger.
Pushing her back, leaning over her, he kissed her with all the driving, destructive hunger raging inside him.
He couldn’t take her.
He wouldn’t.
God as his witness, he knew one night would never be enough. But he could have part of her.
Her pleasure.
Her cries filling his ears.
The response that filled his senses.
Before he let her go he’d have her release spilling to his lips.
“I can’t sleep for wanting you!” she cried out as his lips moved from hers to take stinging little kisses along her jaw.
Skye couldn’t restrain herself. She didn’t want to restrain herself. “I toss and turn and tell myself there was no way it was that good.”
She was tortured by the memory of it, by the hunger to have it again.
Lifting his head, he stared down at her, and the torment in his gaze sliced through her soul.
“It was really that good, wasn’t it, Logan?”
She knew it was. The taste of it was on her lips again, the flaming need for it rushing through her body again.
“It was just that and f**king better,” he growled, and for some reason the thought that the words were all but forced from him struck her mind. It filled her with a feminine fear that he would leave her aching again. Leave her desperate for a release she couldn’t reach on her own.
He couldn’t leave her aching.
Logan watched her eyes, felt her hands as she pulled at his T-shirt and clawed at the material until he was jerking it from his body.
He could see the sensual pain raging through her.
As he disposed of his shirt then eased the gown from her h*ps to drop to the floor, he knew he would ensure she never forgot this night, or the pleasure he was going to give her.
She would never forget him or how much he needed her touch.
His lips lowered to the hard, pointed tip of a nipple and sucked it into his mouth.
Soft, feminine growls of demand left her lips as her hands moved to his head, speared through his hair, and held on tight. Held him closer to her.
As he sucked at the sweet flesh, tasted her, burned for her, he felt himself falling into that pit of uncontrolled need.
His.
The thought raged through him as he fought to reject it.
His.
The demand tore at him.
Ah God, giving her up, letting her go, would kill him.
If nothing else, tonight, he would have her pleasure.
Skye gasped, fighting to throttle the cries welling in her throat as Logan gripped her h*ps and dragged them to the edge of the center work counter. Gripping her thighs, he pulled back as his tongue stroking, working over her nipple demandingly. His hand slid up her thigh, moving slowly, so damned slowly, to the core of torturous need.
Her cl*t was so swollen she could barely stand the pain of need. She’d never in her life known a hunger for a man that had her body so sensitive, her pu**y so wet.
She was so slick and heated that when his fingers met the highest part of her thigh it was awaiting him.