Chapter 20
POV: Suzy
When we were finally bare, he hovered over me, his forehead pressed to mine. His hands framed my face, his eyes searching mine with a hunger that was as emotional as it was physical.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured. “Like you’re in me, under my skin. Like I can’t breathe without you.”
“Yes,” I whispered, clutching at his shoulders. “God, yes.”
He traced every line of me with his lips — my shoulder, my collarbone, the hollow of my throat. Each kiss lingered, each touch deliberate, as if he was memorizing me piece by piece.
“You feel so soft,” he whispered, his mouth brushing over my skin. “So perfect. I want to remember this forever.”
Logan kissed all over my body as he was memorizing and feeling all this. Licked my nipples, giving me sparkles and chivers. The moanings left my throat without control. He kissed my stomach, my ribs, and my belly, and then his mouth was on my clit.
I cried in pleasure as he smirked on me, giving all I needed and all I wanted, the pleasure build in waves, delicious, hot I was close my fingers were on his hair and he didn’t stop when I came once, he didn’t stop when I came for the second time,
licked me clean and climbing up to make me feel my taste on his lips.
“You don't get tired of that?” I asked breathless, knowing the answer. “No, my sunshine, I would make you come all day for the rest of my life,” he said, kissing me again, his tongue intermingling with mine.
“Me too,” I whispered as I made him lie down on the bed, and I positioned myself between his legs. I wrapped him in my hands and took him in my mouth.
He groaned, and that was like gasoline for me to keep going. I felt his control slipping, his hands on my head, trying to control himself. I felt him close.
“Honey, enough,” he said, but I kept going.
“Suzy, if you- fuck,” I knew exactly what I was doing, “If you don’t stop, I will,” I wanted that; he couldn’t finish.
I felt the hot liquid in my mouth like a trophy.
He's coming for me. I swallowed and smiled.
And he pulled me to his chest. “You can’t be real,” he said before kissing me again, slower this time, until my knees went weak.
Each kiss lingered, each touch deliberate, as if he was memorizing me piece by piece.
Emotion surged so sharp it almost hurt. I kissed him back, urgent and desperate, tugging him down until there was no space left between us.
“Logan…” My voice cracked, raw with need and love. “I want you. All of you.”
His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged, his body trembling with restraint. “You already have me. Every piece. But tonight…” His voice dropped, hoarse with emotion. “…tonight I need you to know how much I love you. How much I want to call you my wife.”
And when he finally moved over me, he thrusted into me; it wasn’t rushed. It was slow. Tender. The kind of joining that felt like forever.
Every stroke, every whispered “my fiancée, my sunshine,” pulled me deeper into him, until the rest of the world disappeared.
The pleasure built again, stronger this time, tied to the emotion pulsing between us.
He held my wrists over my head, and all I could do was feel, until we broke together — gasping, clinging, laughing through the tears.
He came inside me, and I came around him.
Perfection.
After, he gathered me close, his lips brushing my hair, his voice rough in my ear. “You can’t be real,” he whispered. “You’re everything. My light. My love. My future wife.”
I smiled against his chest, too full to speak, only able to hold him tighter. Because in that moment, I believed him.
I was his. He was mine. And this was only the beginning.
The smell of brownies filled the kitchen again, rich and sweet, and this time I didn’t even pretend it was for the kids.
Izzy and Lily were at the table, covered in flour and giggles, while Logan leaned against the counter, watching us with that soft smile he reserved only for me. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair mussed, and the diamond on my finger sparkled every time I reached for the spoon.
It had been weeks since he’d asked me to marry him, weeks of hearing him call me “fiancée” like he’d never get tired of it, weeks of waking up in his arms and realizing over and over again that this wasn’t a dream.
And still, every time our eyes met across the room, I felt it — that jolt of wonder, ofhow did I get this lucky?
“Careful with the sugar, Lily,” Barbara warned from the doorway, laughing as she carried in Daniel’s latest DIY contraption for the backyard. Daniel followed proudly, of course, claiming it was going to revolutionize training.
It was loud. Messy. Chaotic. Perfect.
When Izzy looked up, her cheeks pink from laughter, she grinned at me and asked, “So… when do we get to start planning the wedding?”
Logan groaned playfully, dragging a hand over his face. “Already?”
“Yes!” both girls shouted in unison, and I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the mixing bowl.
Logan crossed the kitchen then, sliding an arm around my waist, kissing my temple as he whispered low enough for only me to hear, “Doesn’t matter when. As long as you’re there.”
My chest squeezed, full to bursting, and I leaned into him, smiling at the sight of our messy, beautiful family around the table.
It wasn’t perfect. Life never was. But it was ours. And for the first time in forever, it felt like forever was exactly where I wanted to be.
With him. With them. With us.
----
Dear Harmelholics,
Thank you so much for diving intoThe Grumpy Next Door!