Chapter 14
My exhaustion had returned by the time I tumbled into bed that evening, having sat through the welcome ceremony and the family
dinner, where Trevor elbowed me out of the way to get to the food first—yeah, I might have teared up at the familiarity of
his assholeness.
He was no longer holding my silence over the winter break against me and had decided to just go with the flow and get back
to being family.
There’d been no sign of Belle, Logan, or Noah through any of the first evening events, and without my phone to check in, worries
mingled with my weariness.
Sliding under the covers, I let my mind wander to dinner. Trevor had acted completely normal with me and Jensen, joking and
throwing his fire powers around, but I hadn’t missed the way he’d searched the hall, just as I’d been doing.
I’d been hoping for a glimpse of Logan and Belle.
Trevor was only interested in one of those two.
Our missing friend was playing on all of our minds, and I was determined that tomorrow I’d get some answers.
Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning.
Darkness crept around the edges of my mind; heavy energy and shadowy magic oozed into my subconscious; the tracing tendrils of monsters scraped across my skin until soft music filtered through the carnage.
Consciousness returned in slow increments, and when I realized I wasn’t alone in the room, my eyes shot open, my heart pounding
hard. The moon was hidden behind thick, ominous clouds, and I searched my dark room, noticing a large shadow perched in my
desk chair.
When my eyes adjusted, I relaxed. The monsters hadn’t found me yet . . . It was my very own monster slayer.
Logan was sprawled back, his legs spread out before him while he softly strummed his guitar. I wasn’t sure if he knew I was
awake as he continued to play his soft, soothing melody.
Magic swirled within me, and I could have cried as it smashed against the suppression potion, unable to reach the warlock.
We’d been apart for weeks now, and I was desperate to feel our connection. To feel our bond. A bond that I’d come to accept
over our time apart, because nothing else made sense.
“Precious,” he rasped—he’d known I was awake all along. “Sleep, baby. I’ll keep the monsters away.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I wished I wasn’t always crying when he came back to me. I’d just missed him so fucking
much, and having him here with me again was too much emotion to contain. “Why did you choose music as your escape?” I whispered.
He’d spoken about it briefly, but I wanted to know more. To dig deeper than what he showed the world—I wanted the real warlock.
His soul-deep essence.
He didn’t stop weaving the song around me, but he did shift closer, until my arm that was resting along the side of the bed
pressed against his hard thigh. His eyes fluttered as we touched, and I wondered if he’d been as desperate for this reunion
as I was.
“It started as a fuck you to Dad,” he murmured, his stare burning into me. “He thought music was stupid and frivolous, and while he allowed me to take
lessons and form a band, it was only so he could use it to force me to do his bidding. If I wanted to hang out with my friends,
I had to swim in his evil world first. In truth, music saved me. It was a piece of my magic that he couldn’t touch, and it
gave me an outlet when I was drowning without you.”
The last of my control snapped at those words, and desperate to comfort him, I swung my legs off the bed and stood between
his spread thighs. I wanted to be closer, to feel his power and mine connect. It was a need that eclipsed everything else
in my existence.
His strumming halted as he stared up at me, and in a move so fast I almost missed it, his guitar was set to the side and his
calloused palms wrapped around the back of my bare thighs. He squeezed gently at first, his huge hands spreading warmth across
my skin. As his hold turned firmer, my breaths sputtered in and out.
“Rafael believed that he owned my soul,” he whispered, and even in the low light, there was no hiding the intensity of his
stare as he slowly dragged me closer in slow, teasing increments. “The evil fuck had no idea I’d freely gifted it to you years
ago.”
My body felt as if it were about to combust as fire raced through my veins, and I was helpless to do anything except hold
on and hope I survived.
Logan tightened his hold, and even though he sat while I stood, he lifted me with ease until my legs were settled on either
side of him, straddling his body. The chair groaned under us, the giant warlock already overflowing around it, but it didn’t
collapse.
I rocked my pantie-clad core against his hard length. The black sweats he wore did little to hide his need, and I had no doubt that I was dripping for him.
Our lips met in a searing kiss. He didn’t wait for me to open, demanding entrance as he stroked his tongue across mine. He
kissed me like a dying man seeking his last breath, and I was swept up until I forgot everything else in existence.
It was just Logan and me.
Surrounded by his scent, his hands slid up and down my back and I rocked against his cock, desperately seeking friction to
ease the ache. “I missed you,” I groaned, unable to keep my feelings locked down. Even knowing how much power I’d just given
to him, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
A rumble rocked Logan’s chest, and his hold grew firmer, the smallest bite against my skin. Marking me as his. “If you knew
what I wanted to do with you, Precious,” he growled against my neck, breathing me in, the tip of his nose tracing across the
bare skin and up to the shell of my ear, “you’d be running from this room.”
When my tongue darted out to taste his skin, his spicy energy shattered across my tongue. My teeth pressed against his throat,
and I moaned at the hint of his blood. I’d broken the skin, and all I wanted to do was press harder. Taste more. Devour this
warlock.
He rumbled again, standing so fast that I would have fallen if his arms weren’t banded around me. His lips crashed against
mine, flooding my system with his taste once more. The hint of metallic from the blood had me gasping as he kissed me harder.
“Precious,” he groaned, his teeth scraping down my throat, adding more marks. “I can’t be gentle tonight.”
Threading my fingers into his hair, I yanked his head back. “I don’t want gentle. I need you to fuck me, Logan. Please.”
His growl was animalistic, and if I hadn’t been completely out of my mind with need, I might have worried that I’d pushed
him too far. His cleverly cultivated cloak of civility—alliteration be damned—had finally snapped, and I got the true power
of this spellcaster.
He threw me onto the bed, and before I bounced once, his fingers were in the sides of my panties, tearing them from my body.
My flimsy tank top was gone in my next gasp, and I was breathlessly naked . . . and desperately horny.
Shifting myself up on one arm, I used the other to grab his hoodie, yanking it up so I could touch the hard muscles below.
Logan reached over his head and, in that sexy way men loved to get undressed, yanked the offending material off to leave his
top half gloriously bare.
His sweats were shucked in a similar manner, and as he stalked me across the bed, I forgot how to breathe. Autonomic nervous
system or not, it was failing in its involuntary responses.
I’d seen Logan naked before, but this felt like the first time.
When he crawled on top of me, I ran my hands across his broad chest, which was covered in jewel-toned creatures and black-and-white
symbols. I wanted to touch and taste every inch of him. Especially those hard, thick inches hanging between his muscled thighs.
A witch needed to write sonnets about his perfect cock, the swollen head glistening with his arousal.
“If you keep looking at me like that, baby,” Logan groaned, “I’m going to embarrass myself.”
A brief burst of laughter escaped me at the thought of this powerful, confident warlock losing control. It was hard to believe that I could do that to him, and yet the evidence was clear. An inferno burned in his gaze.
“Paisley,” he warned again, and my laughter turned to moans as he pressed down until his huge body covered mine. The feel
of his skin against mine, his hard lines crushing my softer frame, was worthy of the second sonnet of the night.
I’d be a fucking poet by the time Logan was done with me.
He kissed me slower this time, drawing my lower lip into his mouth and between his teeth. The slow pace didn’t last long as
urgency overtook us both. “Hold on, baby,” he murmured. “Stay with me.”
Digging my nails into his back, I did exactly as I was told and held on to him. Logan thrusted forward, the thick head of
his cock sliding through my slick heat. My pussy was so wet that my arousal seeped down my ass and onto the sheets, but there
was no readying myself for Logan’s size. He thrust again, and the burning stretch was deliciously painful.
“That’s my good girl,” he crooned, giving me not even a chance to adjust. His gaze devoured me, and I was completely lost.
“You take me so well. You were made for me, Paisley. Absolutely perfect.”
The praise had my walls clenching around him, and as he started to slam into me, my cries were too loud and I pressed my hand
over my mouth. The dorms were not fully soundproofed, and the last thing I wanted was for my screams to bring an audience.
Logan’s mouth replaced my hand as he kissed and fucked me into the most intense orgasm that stole my air and ability to even
scream. I soundlessly cried out, losing all sense of reality.
If I’d had full access to my magic, I’d have released every monster in the planes of existence with my complete loss of control.
“Fuck, baby,” Logan whispered huskily against my throat, his thrusts slowing as he followed me into Orgasm Land. I fucking loved Orgasm Land. I wanted to buy a house there and never leave.
As he lifted his head, the moon decided to make an appearance from behind the wintry clouds, and I could see the shine of
his green eyes. “Did I hurt you?” he rasped, examining my face as we both breathed heavily.
Placing my hand against his cheek, he briefly closed his eyes and pressed against my palm. “You destroyed me,” I said softly,
rubbing my thumb over his skin, “but in the best way I could imagine. As you said, if we’re truly bonded, in a goddess-accepted
bond, then I’m made for you, Logan Kingston. You can’t hurt me.”
At least not physically.
His hard length was still buried inside me, and I moaned as he started thrusting in and out, through the mess left after our
last orgasms, and I could feel that swirl of pleasure building once more. Slower this time. “This need I have for you,” he
breathed against my lips. “It’s never-ending. It never eases, and holding you all those nights, offering comfort . . . it
took every ounce of my control . . .”
I cried out softly as his thrusts picked up. “Please d-don’t exercise con-control on my behalf,” I huffed out.
Logan chuckled, and I was nearly delirious. “Already giving orders, Precious.”
I wanted to reply, but I was too busy detonating around his hard length.
This was what I’d dreamed of after my magic bloomed, and it was better than I could have ever imagined.