Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
LOGAN
Iwake up to the best sight I’ve ever seen in my life.
Tessa, naked in my bed, the morning sun streaming through the window and painting her skin gold. Her blond hair is spread across my pillow, her face peaceful in sleep, one hand curled beneath her cheek.
Last night was… fuck. There aren’t words for what last night was.
We made love three times—slow and gentle the first time, learning each other. Faster the second, more desperate, less careful. And the third time, in the early hours of the morning, she’d climbed on top of me, taken control, and ridden me until we both came so hard I saw stars.
Every time, she chose it. Chose me. Chose us.
And every time, I fell a little more in love with her.
I reach out, brushing a strand of hair back from her face, and her eyes flutter open. When she sees me, a slow, satisfied smile spreads across her lips.
“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice rough from sleep and from screaming my name last night.
“Morning, beautiful.”
She stretches like a cat, the sheet sliding down to reveal the curve of her breast, and desire hits me low and hard. Again. Even after last night, I want her again.
Her eyes darken as she notices. “Someone’s awake,” she says, her hand sliding down my stomach.
I catch her wrist, bringing it to my lips. “I should probably get up and head to the gym.”
“Or,” she counters, pressing against me, “we could take a shower.”
My cock twitches at the suggestion, at the heat in her eyes, at the fact that she’s initiating this. That she wants this as much as I do.
“Shower,” I agree, my voice rough. “Yeah. Your idea is better.”
The water is already hot when we step into the walk-in shower, steam filling the space. I reach for the body wash, but Tessa takes it from my hands and pours some into her palm.
“Let me,” she says.
I lean back against the tile, watching as she lathers her hands and then places them on my chest. She works the soap over my skin slowly, thoroughly, her touch both innocent and deliberate. Down my chest, over my abs, her fingers tracing every ridge of muscle.
When her soapy hand wraps around my cock, I groan, my head falling back against the tile.
“Tessa.”
She strokes me slowly. “I’m just helping you get clean.”
“Is that right?” I manage, my hips rocking into her grip.
She laughs, and the sound is so free, so joyful, that it makes my chest ache even as pleasure coils tight in my belly.
Then she drops to her knees, and every thought in my head evaporates.
“Tessa, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she says, looking up at me with those big brown eyes. “I want to taste you.”
Holy hell.
She leans forward, her tongue flicking out to lick the head of my cock, and I nearly come right then and there.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my hand coming up to brace against the wall.
She takes me into her mouth, and the wet heat is almost too much. She starts slow, tentative, learning what I like. When I groan and my hand threads through her wet hair, she takes me deeper, her hand working what won’t fit.
“God, Tessa,” I groan. “Your mouth—fuck, that feels so good.”
She hums around me, the vibration making my knees weak. I want to let go, want to thrust into that perfect mouth, but I hold back, letting her set the pace and have control.
But when she looks up at me through her lashes, water streaming down her face, her lips stretched around my cock, I almost lose it.
“Tessa, I’m gonna—if you don’t want—”
She doubles down, sucking harder, and the pleasure builds and builds until it crests, until I’m coming with a shout, my hand fisting in her hair as she swallows everything I give her.
She pulls off slowly, licking her lips, and looks up at me with a satisfied smile.
“Good morning to you too,” she says.
I haul her up, crushing my mouth to hers. “My turn,” I growl against her lips.
“Logan—”
“My turn,” I repeat, already dropping to my knees.
I hook one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her to me, and she gasps, bracing against the wall. The water streams down over us as I lean in, running my tongue along her center.
She tastes like heaven.
I work her with my mouth, my tongue circling her clit before dipping lower, fucking into her with it. Her hands come down to grip my hair, holding me in place as she rocks against my face.
“Oh God,” she moans. “Logan, yes—right there—”
I focus on that spot, alternating between sucking and licking, adding a finger, then two, curling them to find that place inside that makes her scream.
And she does scream—my name, a litany of yeses, and incoherent pleas for more. Her thigh trembles on my shoulder, her body tensing as she gets closer.
“Come for me,” I murmur against her, and she does, crying out as she shatters, her body clenching around my fingers, her taste flooding my tongue.
I work her through it until she’s pushing my head away, and then I stand, kissing her hard so she can taste herself on my lips.
“I need you,” I say against her mouth. “Now.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Please, Logan. I need you inside me.”
I lift her, pressing her back against the tile wall, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I line myself up and thrust home in one smooth stroke, both of us groaning at the sensation.
There’s no gentleness now. No hesitation. Just raw need and desire.
I pound into her, hard and fast, the sound of our bodies coming together echoing off the tile. She meets me thrust for thrust, her nails raking down my back, her teeth sinking into my shoulder.
“Harder,” she gasps. “God, Logan, harder—”
I give her what she wants, what we both need, driving into her with everything I have. The angle is perfect, hitting that spot inside her with every stroke, and she’s moaning, gasping, screaming my name.
“So fucking tight,” I groan. “So perfect. You feel so perfect, Tessa.”
“Don’t stop,” she begs. “Please don’t stop—I’m so close—”
I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit, and she detonates, screaming so loud I’m grateful the condo has thick walls. Her body clamps down on me like a vise, milking my own orgasm from me.
I come with a roar, burying myself as deep as I can, filling her as pleasure rips through me like lightning.
We stay like that, pressed against the wall, panting, hearts racing, the water still streaming down over us.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“Yeah,” she agrees, her head dropping to my shoulder.
I lower her carefully, making sure her legs will hold her before letting go. They’re shaking, and satisfaction curls through me, knowing I did that to her.
We actually wash this time, touching each other with soapy hands, stealing kisses, grinning like idiots.
When we finally step out, wrapping ourselves in towels, Tessa looks at me with those big brown eyes and says, “I could get used to mornings like this.”
I pull her close, pressing a kiss to her damp hair. “Good. Because I’m planning on a lot more of them.”
She smiles against my chest, and I realize with startling clarity that I want every morning for the rest of my life to start exactly like this.
With her.