It wasn’t enough. Oh God. Just a little more pressure. Just a little more sensation.
His teeth suddenly gripped the taut point, tugging at it, sending a furious rush of nearing rapture to tighten through her womb, to clench at her clitoris and spill a rush of dampness between her thighs.
It was like being thrown into a wild vortex of increasing sensual eroticism. A pleasure she had no idea how to counter and absolutely no desire to fight.
“Yes.” She couldn’t hold back the little moan as he sucked the tip into his mouth, the suction of his mouth sending pulse after pulse of heat surging from her nipple to the tight, furiously throbbing bud of her clit.
Each draw of his mouth pulled at the tip with demanding pressure, increasing each sensation until she felt a swirl of overriding, overwhelming ecstasy building in her womb.
She wanted him. Every touch. Every fierce stroke she could get.
Rolling her h*ps and stroking the hardened bud of her clitoris against his jeans-covered thigh only increased the pleasure. It hurled her down a brilliant white-hot path to the complete sensual destruction that was only a touch away.
Just the right touch.
Just the right pressure and the climactic explosion would destroy any peace she thought she had in her life.
It was the most pleasure she had known in her life. But she knew there was more. She could sense it; she could almost feel it.
“I’m going to end up taking you here against this tree if we don’t stop this.” His voice was ragged, a gravelly sound of hunger that clenched her womb and amped the power of each sensation charging through her.
“Okay.” Yeah, like she was going to object.
A serrated chuckle inflamed her already overly aroused senses.
“It might not be a good idea.” His lips stroked over the curve of her breast as she arched again, trying to get closer, to push her nipple back into his mouth.
“Stop thinking,” she demanded. “I don’t want to think.”
But they had to think.
Logan laid his head against the curve of her breast as he fought to draw in a breath that wasn’t filled with her scent.
This close to her, it was impossible. There was no way to breathe without pulling in the sweet scent of her, or tasting the silk of her flesh.
And he had to think. He had to protect her, protect this. This pleasure he had never imagined could actually exist for him. In his wildest imaginings he had never believed there was a woman he would actually want more than he wanted his own sanity.
Or that there was a woman he would place above his own or his family’s protection.
Before he could allow himself to be drawn further into the heat and the wild promise she represented, Logan forced himself back.
“What are you doing?” Disappointment filled her voice as he set her on her feet, filled her gaze as her lashes lifted so she could stare up at him.
“If we keep this up, I won’t stop with a few kisses beneath this tree,” he warned her as he stared down at her intently, fighting himself more than he was anything else.
“I said okay,” she reminded him fiercely.
“And I don’t want a lover, Skye.” He forced the words past his lips, forced himself to stare into her eyes as he said what had to be said. “This won’t begin a relationship for us; you have to understand that.”
She frowned up at him then. “I’m not asking for a wedding ring, Logan,” she said impatiently.
“Are you asking for just one night of hot, nasty sex?” he asked her then. “Because that’s all I have to offer. One night and then never again. No matter how much both of us might want more. Because when morning comes, that’s it. No more.”
She stared back at him in disbelief. “You limit the amount of time you spend with a lover?”
“One night,” he repeated, hating himself, hating the hunger eating at him, assuring him he was a class A bastard.
“One night, huh?” She stepped away from the tree, facing him.
They were still enveloped by the darkness beneath the tree, sheltered from prying eyes and the possibility of an enemy learning more of his actions than was safe for either him or Skye.
He had to clench his hands to keep from jerking her back to him, to keep from throwing them both back into that whirlwind of pleasure and the race to ecstasy.
A siren’s smile tipped her lips again and aroused every self-preservation instinct he possessed that wasn’t already busy keeping his ass alive.
“And you think one night with me would be enough?”
His brow arched as he longed to join in the play, the teasing, sensual challenge.
“I’d make it enough.”
Her laughter was as soft and sensual as the sultry summer night surrounding them.
“One night with me would never be enough, Logan,” she promised him, surprised him. “Because whatever just exploded between us would rock both our worlds to the point that staying away from each other would be like sawing off a limb.”
God, no woman should be so f**king intuitive.
He already knew that. Knew it, and feared it to the depths of his soul.
Adjusting the top of her gown to cover the full, firm globes of her br**sts and smoothing her hands down her sides, she looked at him again from the corners of her eyes. “You started this, and you’ve opened a door I don’t think you can close. But you keep lying to yourself if you want to. Because I don’t think it’s something you can deny yourself now. We both want it until we’re ready to beg. But I’m willing to wait until you’ve gotten a clue and figured out how little you actually want a one-night stand.”
He already knew. That was the problem.
Watching her step from beneath the branches of the tree, Logan slowly followed, careful to keep her slight, delicate body sheltered from any prying eyes that might be watching.
“Let me know when you’ve come to your senses.” Turning back to him, her gaze met his, and Logan only barely controlled the flinch.
Now, in the sparse light that fell from the patio, he could see the living, breathing evidence of pure hunger.
It raged in her eyes, at odds with the calm tone of her voice and careful restraint in her body. “And if you wait too long, you may lose far more than you even imagine.”
And he had a damned good imagination.
“Conceited, Skye?” he asked, forcing the mockery into his tone, because he knew it wasn’t conceit. It was pure confidence based on the explosive power of the pleasure that had surged between them.