Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
CASSIE
His hands are on me like he’s starving. Fingers threading into my hair, mouth crashing into mine with a force that says he’s done holding back. I clutch at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as if I could fuse us together right here in the kitchen.
“God, I missed this,” he growls against my lips. “Missed you.”
Before I can reply, he’s lifting me onto the counter, lips trailing down my neck, down the valley between my breasts. He rips my shirt open—buttons pinging to the floor. His mouth closes over one nipple and I cry out, arching into him.
It’s messy. Desperate. Raw.
He tugs off my shirt, then he’s on his knees, spreading my thighs with firm hands and diving in like a man possessed.
“Oh, fuck—Logan—” I grab the edge of the counter, knuckles white. He devours me, tongue ruthless and patient all at once. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. Not until I’m shaking, hips grinding against his face, legs trembling as I fall apart around him.
He rises, licking his lips, eyes dark and hungry.
“You look so goddamn good when you come.”
Then he’s kissing me again—wild, wet, tasting myself on his tongue—and lining himself up, dragging the thick head of his cock against my slick folds.
“You ready?” he pants.
I nod, biting my lip. “Be gentle though.”
“I can go easy. Babe. You’re my first priority.”
He thrusts in slow at first, working himself in…
And then gradually, carefully, he moves faster. We both moan—deep, guttural, like something primal just snapped free. He fills me completely, stretching me in a way that makes my head fall back and my mouth drop open.
He stills for a beat, foreheads pressed, both of us breathing like we just ran a marathon.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the morning you walked out on me,” he murmurs. “Every night. Every time I touched myself. It was always you.”
That breaks me.
I kiss him with everything I have. I roll my hips up to meet his, and he starts moving—slow at first, then faster, harder, deeper.
The sound of our bodies meeting echoes off the walls.
We’re all tangled limbs and frantic hands.
His fingers dig into my skin, our lips brushing, teeth grazing, breaths between us hot and ragged.
He slams into me again and again, and my nails rake down his back.
“Fuck, babe. I’m going too hard. Trying to hold back…you’re so good though,” he grits out.
“Oh God—Logan—don’t stop—”
“I won’t,” he growls. “Not until you come for me again. Want to feel you clench around me. Come on, baby.”
And I do.
With a cry that tears from my throat, I explode around him, wave after wave crashing through me. His name on my lips. My body shuddering.
He pulls out fast, panting, jaw clenched, and strokes himself once, twice before coming hard across my belly, warm and messy and perfect.
We stay like that for a moment.
Sweaty. Breathless. His forehead resting against mine, his hand still on my hip.
No words.
Just the wreckage of everything we’ve been holding back.
Logan’s breath mingles with mine, hot and heavy in the air.
I can feel the weight of our shared moment settling between us, a fragile intimacy that feels both electric and soothing.
Slowly, he helps me off the counter, his hands gentle as they guide me down.
A mix of disbelief and sheer joy bubbles up inside me.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me of all the little things I missed about this.
My gut clenches, and I try not to get ahead of the moment.
This is just a rebound, Cassie.
We make our way to the bathroom, where I splash some water on my face, glancing up at him in the mirror. His gaze is intense, filled with warmth and something deeper as he stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
I tilt my head.
He watches me, a small smile playing on his lips, like he’s trying to memorize every detail.
Once we’re both somewhat presentable, he takes my hand and leads me to my bedroom.
“Wait,” I say, stopping at the doorframe.
“Yeah?”
“You want to…sleep in the same room?” I ask, tentative.
“Obviously.”
“But Logan—”
“No buts. Unless it’s me smacking yours. Come on. We don’t have to be in the same bed every night, but we’re not sleeping separate tonight.”
Logan crawls in first, scooting back against the headboard. I pause at the edge of the bed, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and hesitation. It’s been so long since I’ve slept in the same bed as someone—since my ex—and the thought sends a wave of uncertainty through me.
“Cassie?” he asks, his voice soft and concerned.
I meet his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment. “I…I just haven’t shared a bed in a while,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s a lot.”
He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, his expression understanding. “I get it. If you’re really not ready—”
“No, it’s not that I don’t want to,” I interrupt, taking a step closer. “It’s just…I need a moment.”
He nods, giving me the space I need. I take a deep breath, weighing my feelings.
“Okay,” I finally say, heart pounding. “I want to be near you. I just…it’s going to take a sec to adjust to whatever this is.”
Logan’s face lights up with a soft smile, and I climb into bed beside him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I can’t help but melt into him.
We lie in comfortable silence for a while, the world outside fading to a distant hum. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my arm, sparking warmth wherever he touches me.
And that night, with Logan’s arm draped over me, I slip into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a while. Maybe even years.