Tessa
Chapter thirty-two
Logan’s release floods my mouth as he groans, thrusting to bury himself as deep as possible.
He bites back a curse as I swallow around him.
When cum finally stops spilling from his cock, he slowly pulls himself free and immediately moves a hand to the back of my head, helping me sit up.
The sudden change in position makes my head spin, static crawling at the edges of my vision.
I pull in deep lungfuls of air, my heart battering in my chest.
“Fucking perfect, darlin’,” he praises. The heat of him presses against my back, supporting my body as I lean into him.
Heat coils in the pit of my stomach with the need to chase my own release.
As if reading my mind, he bends forward and presses his lips to the side of my neck, trailing kisses over my heated skin.
His warm breath feathers across the shell of my ear as he rasps, “You’re not done yet, baby. I need you to come for me.”
The deep, raspy tenor of his lust-riddled voice has goosebumps coating my skin as I nod.
My body melts into him as he leans over my shoulder, the calloused pads of his fingertips gliding over my clit.
The sensation has me choking back a moan.
His touch moves lower, fingers spreading my pussy lips open before pressing into my center.
He curls them forward, firmly massaging the spot inside of me that has stars dancing through my vision and my orgasm quickly rising to the surface as I grind into his hand.
“Pull your legs back,” he commands. His free hand moves to the underside of my thigh, encouraging me to lift.
I’m too drunk on his voice, on his touch, on the scent of his warm, woodsy cologne to do anything other than oblige.
I pull both of my legs back, ignoring the way my stomach folds on itself from my crunched position.
Logan’s forest-green eyes roam over my body.
Even in the warm, dim lighting that fills the room, I can feel the admiration rolling off of him.
His gaze lingers on my breasts, then dips down to my soft stomach.
My breath hitches. I start to lower one leg, but he stops me by grabbing my ankle.
“Keep ‘em up, baby. Trust me,” he says softly. “You’re so fucking hot like this, Tessa.” His fingers are still curled deep inside of me, and my pussy clenches around them. “Good girl,” he praises again.
I didn’t know I would love that as much as I do until I hear it from him. It doesn’t feel fake or like something he’s doing to test my reaction.
My body relaxes as I sink into him, letting him support my weight as his fingers thrust in and out of me. The heel of his palm grinds against my clit in firm strokes as he presses his fingers impossibly deeper, curling them harder.
“Fuck,” I gasp, the curse slipping free as my walls tighten around him. “I’m gonna come,” I whimper.
“Come. Let go for me, darlin’.”
His words send me barreling over the edge.
Stars burst behind my eyes like fireworks as my body tenses, and then my head is tipping back with a strangled moan as liquid heat gushes from my pussy.
The thrusting of his hand intensifies, drawing out every last drop my body has to offer as his fingers continue to curl deep inside of me.
His hand covers my mouth, silencing my moans as pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known flows over every inch of my body.
My hips roll as I grind into his touch, desperate to chase every last remnant of pleasure he’s offering.
I slump against him as the wave breaks, but his fingers continue to massage the same spot, coaxing another orgasm to the surface. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. Give me one more, Tessa.” His voice is rough and laced with gravel, and there’s nothing I can do to protest. I don’t want to protest. He uncovers my mouth and slides his hand down to pluck at one of my nipples, twisting the peaked bud between his thumb and forefinger.
His touch alternates between a deep, aching rub as he rolls my nipple, then a sharp, biting sting as he pinches it between his fingers.
“Logan,” I gasp, my legs trembling.
He lets out a deep, animalistic hum. “Did you think I forgot how much you like your nipples played with? God, you’re fucking stunning like this.”
Another wave of heat rushes to the surface, crashing over me as I bite back a moan. The sheets beneath me are thoroughly soaked, but I don’t have the strength to move with the euphoria rolling through my veins.
With my body limp and relaxed from the intense release, he helps me shift into a more comfortable position to catch my breath. I can feel him standing beside the bed. The weight of his gaze as it travels over every exposed inch of my body has me shuddering with an aftershock of pleasure.
He brushes a few strands of hair away from my face, tucking them behind my ear. “You did so well for me, baby.”
A smile crawls across my lips, my eyes fluttering shut.
The sound of running water wakes me, and I peel my eyes open.
I must have dozed off for a minute. Turning my head toward the en suite, I’m blessed by the view of Logan.
He’s stark naked and walking toward me as steam billows behind him, filling the bathroom.
The idea of standing beneath the hot spray of water has a groan slipping free.
“A shower sounds amazing, right now.” Despite the shower I took when I got home earlier, a thin sheen of sweat clings to my skin and the roots of my hair.
He wraps an arm around my waist and guides me to the bathroom, steadying me as I step into the cascading hot water. A heavy, relaxed sigh escapes me as I tip my head back, getting my hair wet. The water flows over my shoulders and down the front of my body.
He joins me in the shower, sliding the glass door closed as he steps in behind me.
Strong, calloused hands run through the wet strands of my hair before he reaches for my shampoo bottle.
He takes his time spreading it through my hair, his fingertips massaging over my scalp as he works it into a gentle lather.
“Head back.” His voice is a soft rumble as he gently tugs on my hair.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say softly, watching him detach the shower head from its mount.
“I know, but I want to. Let me take care of you, baby.” He pulls it down and uses it to rinse the shampoo free, his fingers gliding through the long strands of my hair.
The click of the shower head being put back has me turning to face him, but he stops me.
His touch is gentle on my shoulder as he encourages me to remain with my back to him.
The sound of another bottle cap being clicked open fills the small shower space, and I smile.
Not many men would think to follow up with a conditioner.
Most men I’ve met seem to prefer those three-in-ones meant to be used as shampoo, body wash, and conditioner.
The convenience sounds like a great idea in theory, but my hair requires an actual conditioner.
The few times I’ve made do without one resulted in me wearing my hair up and completely out of my face until I could wash it properly.
He takes his time working the conditioner through my hair, then grabs the pink loofah hanging on the shower handle and pours on a generous amount of my body wash.
I turn to face him, his forest-green eyes holding mine as he runs it over my skin.
The gentle scrape of the material has goosebumps scattering across my arms and legs.
Taking a slow step forward, one arm entwines around his neck as my other hand slides through his wet hair, and I pull him down to me.
His lips meet mine in a slow, sensual kiss that spreads heat through my body, my heart squeezing in my chest.
Three little words dance on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t want to make them known in a post-orgasmic haze.
If I’m honest with myself and don’t let fear control my thoughts or feelings, I think I’ve felt this way about him for a while now.
I knew there was something different about him the night we met at The Stampede, but I never could’ve imagined the impact he would have on every aspect of my life.
I’ll keep the words to myself for now and wait for the right moment to tell him.
They float quietly in my mind as his hands find my waist, guiding me back against the tiled wall.
He deepens the kiss, parting my lips with his tongue, but he doesn’t move to take it any further.
He makes me feel cared for and loved and seen in a way I didn’t think I would ever experience again.
I love him.