Chapter Four #2
Finally he pulled away, grinding his teeth. A muscle quivered in his jaw, and she could almost see him clinging to the taut thread of his control.
He did this for her. Because she’d pulled away from him so often, he wasn’t certain of her response. His hesitance served as yet another sign that he was an honorable man.
This was the moment. She swallowed. The wafts of peat smoke drifting through the rafters seemed to pause in suspense. Even the flames of the fire stopped flickering.
If she said no, he’d respect that. He’d stop. But if she said yes, if she asked him to continue . . .
She’d been celibate for five years.
She wanted Logan Douglas. In a way, beyond the original pain and distrust and trauma of her experience with Innes Munroe, she’d wanted Logan from the moment she’d seen him.
Staring at him, she released a slow breath. With deliberate motions, she moved her hands to the pin that closed her plaid. She tossed the pin aside and let the plaid slide down her body to puddle at her bottom. Logan watched her every move with rapt attention.
She rose onto her knees on the mattress and pulled off her shift, revealing her body to him. His dark eyes raked over her, similar and yet different from the first time she’d stood naked before him. The hunger in them made her shiver.
Never breaking his gaze from hers, he rose and stripped off his plaid and shirt in seconds, exposing his magnificent body, marred only by the linen bandage wrapped around his thigh.
The flames of the fire cast flickering gold tones over his skin.
She’d never seen anyone so well muscled.
So broad. And his cock jutted out proudly, spectacularly, in proportion with the rest of him.
“Lord, you are beautiful,” she whispered.
He lifted her to her feet and drew her against him, connecting their bodies from head to foot. She pressed her cheek to the hard muscles of his chest. His shaft felt like a brand against her belly. Hard and ready.
He lowered her onto the bed, and then he moved over her to kiss her again, his arms trapping her body. Heat twined around their bodies, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth. Reaching up, she pressed her hand over his heart. It beat wildly beneath her palm.
He pulled away and stared down at her, wildness flaring in his eyes.
“Logan,” she breathed, “why are you shaking?”
He blinked hard, as if trying to return to himself, to restrain himself from allowing instinct to take over and doing what his body—and hers—craved. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Nonsense.” Wickedly, she thought she wouldn’t mind a bit of pain to heighten the pleasure. She bit her lip, though, too shy to tell him that.
“You are so small.”
She swallowed a sigh. “Stop.”
He trailed a finger down her cheek. “So delicate.”
“No. I’m a strong woman.”
“So perfect,” he rasped.
She sensed his withdrawal and knew she must stop it. Running her palms over the curve of his masculine chest, she pinched his nipple gently. He clenched his teeth.
“I think you are afraid of me, Logan Douglas.”
“No,” he growled.
She applied pressure on his arm until he rolled off her, and she quickly rose to her knees, straddling him and pressing her center over his hardness. Her slick folds collided with his burning heat, and they both gasped.
“What is it, Logan? Why do you hesitate?” Emboldened, she leaned down to flick her tongue over his ear. “I’m not going to break.” She nipped his lobe.
Beneath her, he shuddered. She glanced down to see he’d clutched the bedcovers in his fists. She wanted those hands gripping her, not the blankets.
She slid her body erotically up and down over him, allowing her breath to whistle out in pleasure. “Yesss,” she murmured into his ear. “I want you. All of you. Don’t you want me?”
“Maggie,” he said, his voice so low she could scarcely hear. “You don’t . . . I can’t . . . you’re a lady . . . too fragile.”
She ground her teeth in frustration. She wanted him inside her so badly.
Wanted to reach down and place him at her entrance, then lower herself over him.
Even more desperately, though, she wanted him to be the one to initiate their coming together.
She wanted him to lose himself. Wanted to see that feral light of lust smoldering in his black eyes as he took her.
“Ma gg i e—”
Her lips descended on his, cutting his words short.
His lips were so soft, so perfect. She couldn’t get enough of him.
He was heaven. She slid her tongue over his lower lip, kissed his chin, and traveled downward over his neck, tasting him.
He tasted like the Highlands would taste if they were transformed into a man, like heather and peat and fire and snow.
She closed her teeth over his flat nipple, and a low growl rumbled up from his throat.
But she didn’t linger there. She kissed along the light trail of hair leading from his belly button to his groin, and then she pressed her cheek against the long length of him.
“You’re so hard,” she whispered. “Maybe you do want me, after all.”
She blew lightly on his shaft. He held himself rigid, fists clenched in the bedcovers, and she smiled. Almost. But not yet. Gently, reverently, she feathered tiny kisses down his silky length. His heat scorched her lips, but it was a heat she gloried in.
She touched him lightly with her fingertips, allowed her tongue to flick over him for a tiny taste.
Still he didn’t move, but she sensed him unraveling.
Traveling to the tip of his cock, she continued peppering kisses over him.
Ever so gently, she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked up and down.
Just lightly enough to drive him to distraction.
She couldn’t keep still. Each time her breasts touched him, she bit back a groan. A fire had built between her legs and there was only one way to douse it.
“Mmm,” she hummed over him.
She heard him growl, and satisfaction flooded through her. Before she could kiss him again, strong arms hauled her upward, flipped her onto her back, and pinned her to the bed.
His face was drawn, his lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed. He used his knee to press her legs apart and, without preamble, thrust into her.
Sensation exploded through Maggie. Sweet pleasure with just a hint of pain as her body adjusted to accommodate his size.
Maggie clenched her teeth and contained the scream just in time, for she retained the bit of sense that told her he would instantly pull away thinking he’d harmed her. Somehow she warped the scream of pleasure into a whimper, and she arched up into him, wrapping her arms around him.
He didn’t seem to hear her. His nostrils flared as he lowered himself to her, pulled out, and thrust into her again with such force, her body shifted higher on the bed.
“Oh,” she groaned, closing her eyes. She needed this. Needed him.
He braced his arms above her shoulders so she wouldn’t slide upward, and he surged into her yet again.
Flames whispered in the fireplace, and the cocoon of heat squeezed tightly over them as Logan began a rhythm of hard thrusts, moving in and out of her body with excruciatingly pleasurable force.
Within moments, the heat curled through her skin, coalescing to tingle between her legs, constricting her muscles in a tremor that she was certain she wouldn’t survive.
She gasped, the air rushing out of her body as he completed every thrust. If she didn’t hold on to him, she’d fly apart.
So she gripped his bulging shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut as the warmth wrapped around her muscles, coiling tighter.
And then it happened. The tense bands of heat snapped, and pleasure exploded within her.
Maggie arched against him. Her muscles tensed even more and then shuddered and released, rippling over Logan’s cock.
She cried out, clutching Logan even tighter. He was her anchor, the only thing keeping her safely attached to the earth. On the edge of her consciousness, she felt him go hard over her, and he froze, a solid mass of muscle wedged against her womb, as pleasure consumed them both.