Chapter 22
22
KATRINA
P lay.
Even in my mid-twenties, the word feels forbidden. To run wild. To laugh and scream. To race from one end of the rickety bridge to the other and back again.
Play.
To press the keys of my piano. To slide my bow across the strings of my violin. To create art. To feel emotions. To discover talents within myself I didn’t know I had.
Play.
To kiss the forbidden boy.
To let him touch me in ways no one ever has.
To touch him back.
Logan stares into my eyes, our faces so close, our lips grazing with every breath. He doesn’t say a word—just lets that last one linger in the air between us.
Play.
I never thought about love and sex that way before.
But why not?
To have fun with each other.
To laugh and scream in pleasure.
Play.
For a beat, my heart stalls with the realization. Then, with a soft kiss and a slow, tentative touch, it kick-starts again, slamming against my ribs as my fingers curl around Logan’s cock.
His breath stutters against my lips. He kisses me harder, his hands cradling my face, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
I look down, watching my hand move over him. Slow, unsure. With every stroke, every squeeze, Logan makes a sound. A sharp exhale. A deep groan. A whispered curse.
“Is this okay?” I ask, my voice trembling.
Logan chuckles, his lips brushing mine. “You have to ask?”
I hesitate. I don’t want to admit how little I know.
“Here.” He reaches down, sliding his hand over mine, guiding my touch. “Like this...”
He leads me to the base of his shaft, tightening my fingers around him.
“That tight?” I whisper.
“Oh, yes.”
“That doesn’t hurt?”
His chuckle is warm, reassuring. “No.” He moves my hand slowly, steadily. “Like that. Just like that.”
As his hand loosens, giving me full control, I feel more out of control than ever. But I find my rhythm, the motion becoming easier, more natural. And Logan lets me know how good it feels. Gasps and groans spill from his lips, low and needy. Every sound is a reward. Every reaction, a spark.
“Good kitty.”
The words slither into my ears, down my spine, pooling heat between my thighs. My body hums, matching his. My core pulses with every stroke, every breathless groan. His hands wander, gripping my thighs, my ass, my breasts. His touch sets fire to my skin, fueling a hunger I never knew I had.
“Katrina,” Logan gasps, his fingers latching onto mine. With a sudden jerk, he stills me, his grin lazy and wicked. “If you keep going, I’ll make a mess of your dress.”
But I don’t want to stop.
Feeling bold, I slide my hand free and move lower.
“You don’t have to,” Logan murmurs, watching me shift over him.
I kiss him, letting his tongue tangle with mine. “I want to,” I whisper.
I pull his pants down. His cock springs free, thick and flushed, and I see it clearly for the first time.
Then I open my mouth.
“Kat—” Logan groans, the sound breaking into a curse the moment my tongue flicks over him. “Fuck.”
Play.
I lick him. I taste him. Salty, warm, intoxicating. One hand stays wrapped around the base, steadying him as I take him deeper.
His fingers clench my hair. His thighs tense beneath me. His voice breaks, ragged and wrecked, as he says, “I’m… I’m coming.”
I brace myself, holding him there, letting it happen. His release is hot and thick, coating my tongue, the taste unexpectedly sweet. I moan at the sensation, licking the tip, savoring every drop.
When I swallow, Logan shudders.
“Fucking hell, kitty,” he groans.
I sit back, wiping my lips. “Was that okay?”
“Was that—” Logan rolls his eyes, then lunges, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Was that okay?!”
He flips me onto my back so fast my stomach swoops, butterflies exploding inside me. He props himself over me, his face twisted with happiness, with desire.
“That felt—” he kisses me hard, “amazing.”
I cling to him, my thighs locking around his waist. He settles between them, his still-hard cock pressing against the damp fabric of my panties. Every slow grind, every teasing push sends sparks through me, pleasure building in the tight, aching space between us.
Logan braces himself on his elbows, his hungry eyes holding mine as he whispers, “Stop me.”
A dare. Or maybe a warning.
Either way, I do nothing.
His mouth crashes into mine, devouring, claiming. Then he moves lower, kissing along my jaw, my neck, down to my chest. His lips find my nipple through my dress, his tongue flicking, teasing. I jolt, my breath catching in my throat as his fingers slip into my panties. A slow pull, a nudge of my knees—and suddenly, I’m bare. Open. His .
His head disappears beneath my dress.
My jaw goes slack, my lips parting in a soundless gasp. At first, I feel nothing—just the dizzying shock of what’s happening. But then, I feel everything .
His mouth. His tongue. The way he licks and sucks, slow and devastating. Heat blooms deep in my belly, radiating outward, flooding my senses with pleasure so sharp it borders on pain.
“Oh, god,” I gasp.
Logan looks up, his smirk glistening between my thighs. “What’s my name?” he teases.
I smile. “Logan.”
“Good kitty. Given credit where it’s due.”
His mouth seals over me again, and my back arches off the bed. The next flick of his tongue sends a violent tremor through my limbs, the pleasure growing tight and hot inside me.
“Yes,” I whisper, breathless. “Yes, Logan.”
He chuckles against my skin; the vibrations making me shudder. Another wave crashes over me, and he groans as if he’s drinking me down.
I can’t speak. I can barely think. My world has narrowed to this moment, this sensation, the unbearable, exquisite torment of his mouth on me. “Lo—” I try to say his name, but it dissolves into a whimper.
“Come for me, kitty,” he growls. “I want to taste you.”
That’s all it takes.
The tension inside me snaps, breaking me into a million pieces. If it weren’t for Logan’s strong hands pinning me down, I’d be writhing off the bed. My thighs tremble, my body shakes, the pleasure almost unbearable.
“Lo... gan...”
I squirm, helpless against the aftershocks, the relentless assault of his tongue as he coaxes every drop from me. My body is electric, too sensitive, too much— too good .
Gasping, I thread my fingers through his hair and tug weakly. “Stop,” I beg, laughing. “Please, I can’t?—”
He finally pulls away, but only enough to kiss the inside of my thigh, his devious eyes flicking up at me as he licks the taste of me from his lips. “Fucking hell,” he says. “You are so beautiful when you come.”
I laugh. Dazed, boneless, still tingling in places I didn’t know could tingle. “You...” I try to form words, but my brain is mush. “Uh...”
Logan grins, crawling up my body, trailing slow kisses on me. “Yes?” he asks, his tongue flicking against my collarbone.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him against me, buzzing from the afterglow. “You give... good tongue.”
He kisses me again, deep and thorough, like he’s memorizing the taste of me. “Thank you,” he says, hot against my lips.
I melt into him, my body aligning perfectly with his. Then, I feel the press of his cock, heavy against my still-throbbing core, and I pause.
“Katrina,” Logan whispers, his eyes closed. “We should get out of this bed.”
“Why?” I ask, tilting my hips ever so slightly, teasing.
His tip nudges against my clit, and his entire body tenses.
“Because if we don’t, I’ll never leave.”
My breath catches. My fingers tighten in his hair. He’s right here—right there —and I want him so badly it’s physically painful.
But—
“I don’t have protection,” I say, the words like ice water on my skin.
Logan goes still. Slowly, he takes a deep breath and pulls back, putting deliberate space between us. “Then we really need to get off this bed,” he says, his voice strained.
I nod, my pulse hammering as I push up onto my elbows. Logan sits back on his knees, dragging my dress down my thighs before tucking himself away and pulling up his pants.
I swallow hard, my body still pulsing with lingering pleasure. But beneath the heat, something softer blooms.
Gratitude.
He wouldn’t push. He wouldn’t take more than I was ready to give.
I smile. Such a gentleman.
“So...” I clear my throat, trying to steady my voice. “Pancakes, huh?”
Logan laughs, shaking his head as he slides off the bed and offers me his hand.