by Nikki Sloane
“My mom informed me I had to up my game. That’s at least a tenth grade move I just gave you.”
“Nice.”
I was torn between not wanting the evening to end and my desire for it to be over so we could go upstairs. We laughed with our family, posed for pictures with friends, and ate a piece of our wedding cake.
My feet were aching and screaming for relief as the deejay played the final song of the night. Our crowd had thinned once the bar closed at eleven, and as soon as the song was over, the lights in the ballroom brightened. It had been an amazing day, but also exhausting.
Dominic’s arms were tight around Payton’s waist. “Logan,” he said, his tone serious, “it’s been a while for you. Let me know if you need any pointers for the wedding night.”
“Thanks, Dominic. By the way, go fuck yourself.”
Payton laughed. “He has me for that.”
As soon as the elevator doors sealed us in alone together, Logan was on me. One warm hand splayed on the bare skin of my back while his other gripped my ass tightly, pressing me into him, crushing my dress. He held me into his kiss that was an assault on all fronts. My heart, mind, and body needed this man. My hand dove inside his tuxedo jacket, seeking the hardened muscles beneath the crisp dress shirt and three-button black vest.
“You have too many clothes on, boss.”
“I’m fucking aware.”
We hit our floor, he grabbed my hand, and tugged me down the hallway.
“Slow down,” I gasped. “Not all of us are runners.” He was dragging me along at break-neck speed.
“Is it faster if I carry you?”
I had no idea if he was kidding or not. We’d been together more than a year, and it wasn’t any easier to tell. “I dunno, maybe.”
A yelp escaped when his hands gripped my waist, lifting me, and not the sexy swept-up-into-his-arms kind, but the thrown-over-the-shoulder, caveman style kind of carry.
“Shit,” he groaned. “Your skirt is huge.” He banded an arm around my thighs, tucking the fabric out of his way so he could see, and took off. I bounced on his shoulder and the shorter, elbow-length veil I’d switched into for the reception hung down, trailing on the carpet.
“You don’t like my dress?”
“I didn’t say that. You took my breath away, Evie.”
My heart thumped in my chest and my face warmed with a flush, but that also could have been the blood rushing to my head because I was upside-down.
“Hey, put me down before you hurt yourself.” Although, if I were honest, I kind of liked this. His ‘I have to have you now’ attitude was seriously hot.
We were through the door and into the honeymoon suite. I couldn’t see much, but the room was softly glowing with flickering light. His strong arms braced me as I slowly slid down his body until my feet were back on the ground. The veil was flipped over my head, and Logan lifted it, brushing it back.
“Are you thirsty? There’s champagne.”
“Oh?” I turned in his arms to face the room, “. . . my God.”
A white, king-sized bed was against the left wall, decorated with a gold satin comforter and eggplant purple accent pillows. Mirrored, square lamps were perched on the nightstands. Everything was elegant and luxurious.
The back wall was like our apartment. Floor to ceiling glass with a view to die for, only this wasn’t North Beach, it was the heart of the city, and the yellow-orange windows glowed in the night.
Also glowing were glass votive candles that lined just about every flat surface in the room. No lights were on, and it was breathtaking. I stood motionless as Logan went to the ice bucket and pulled out the bottle of champagne.
My desire for him was so strong I could taste it, but instead I remained still, watching him open the bottle and pour me a glass. I gestured to the room. “Did you arrange this?”
The only answer he gave me was a half-smile, but it confirmed he had. He held out the glass of champagne and I took it, letting my gaze fall to the other focal point in the room . . . the large Jacuzzi tub. It sat opposite the bed in a corner, the walls wrapped in mirror and the tile ledge around it was covered with more flickering candles.
It was romantic and seductive.
My gaze went back to him, starting at his feet and drifting upward over that sexy tuxedo, all the way until I could meet his eyes. Those chocolate brown eyes had been my undoing our first night together, and they were just as devastating now. Especially since they seemed to be filled with the same sordid thoughts he’d had then.
He poured another glass for himself but didn’t take a sip. His intense focus was on me. “Lose the dress.”
chapter
TEN
I swallowed thickly and smiled. I was eager, but . . . “I’m going to need your help.”
Logan took a sip of his champagne and set it down, then shrugged out of his jacket. He tossed it on the chair nearby, and I’d learned he only disregarded his neat-freak status when he was impatient.
I loved how I did that to him.
“I’m happy to help, naughty girl.”
I turned around and swept my veil over my shoulder so it wouldn’t be in his way. “There’s a hook at the top.”
His tone was displeased. “And a shitload of buttons.”
I smiled to myself. “Calm down, there’s a hidden zipper.”
Fingers drew a line where the fabric on my strapless dress stopped, tracing over my skin, and paused at the center to undo the tiny metal hook. Then, the zipper must have been discovered beneath the panel of buttons, because it began to drop, one tooth at a time.
I shivered as his lips floated over my shoulder, ghosting kisses. His hands were inside the back of my dress, pushing the bodice down, and sliding up over my belly. Making me tremble and insane with lust. My fingers fumbled in the small of my back to undo the knot holding my crinoline in place.
The cups were sewn in, so I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my sigh of relief was loud when he palmed my breasts. I leaned into him, putting my back against his hardened chest. My eyes fell shut as I waited for his next move. I never knew what kind of sex I’d get with Logan. Did he want to make love tonight? Have a quick, hard fuck? Maybe both?
He enjoyed touching me, moving at an unhurried pace, but my body’s response was too strong. I couldn’t last much longer, so I shimmied out of the dress and my shoes. A tight noise came from behind.
“I like these.” He ran a hand over the swell of my ass, admiring the blue panties I wore that had ‘Mrs.’ written in tiny rhinestones across the back.
“They were my ‘something blue.’”
“Holy shit. It stands up on its own.”
He was talking about my dress. “Yeah. No hanger required.” The layers of stiff netting and boning supported the dress and kept it upright, defying gravity.
His fingers slipped under my arm and turned me to face him. His gaze traced each centimeter of my naked flesh like it was the first time he was seeing it, and he looked appreciative of the view. The only things I wore were the panties and the veil still attached at the base of my up-do. His expression shifted and grew more intense, mimicking one of a predator. This was the darkest version of Logan I only saw when he was overwhelmed with lust and losing his grip on control.
“I’ve missed these.” Once again, his hands fondled my breasts, only this time he wasn’t gentle. He moved on me urgently, forcing me backward until I slammed into the wall, but he didn’t let up. Hands pinched at my already-tight nipples, making me ache while his mouth locked on mine. His tongue thrust deep, and I moaned.
But he stepped back abruptly and the heat of his body vanished, making my eyes fly open in surprise.
“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Yes,” I said, already breathless. “That’s what we should do.”
“We’ll get to that, don’t you worry, but I want to get in the tub.”
I glanced at the large, deep Jacuzzi and gave him a dubious look. “You want to take a b
ath?”
“You mentioned your feet hurt.”
They did, and now that I had it off, I was realizing just how heavy the dress had been. A bath with massaging jets and my gorgeous new husband wrapped around me suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.
While he ran the tap, I went to the mirror and began the process of removing my veil. I said it loudly over the rushing water. “There are a thousand pins inside my hair, just so you know.”
“Awesome.”
Movement from beside the tub stopped me mid-process. Logan was getting undressed and I wasn’t about to miss the show. The vest was already open, and the tie hung loose around his neck. Sexy. Then, the shirt was unbuttoned and cufflinks undone. I gasped when he peeled one shoulder out, followed by the other, and dropped all of it to the floor in a heap.
I couldn’t stop the grin at how he was breaking his own rules.
“What?” he said. “It’s a rental.”
“Okay, boss. I can pretend you’re not going to pick all that up later because it’s bothering you.”
He smirked. His hands busied themselves undoing his pants, and it showed off his impressive upper body. All sinewy muscles flexing under his smooth, tan skin. The pants fell off his hips, slid down, and he kicked them away. The black socks were tugged off and added to his pile.
Witnessing Logan in only a pair of black boxer briefs set my body on fire. I freed the comb that the veil was attached to from my hair and, following his lead, I dropped it to the floor.
“Come here.” It was a soft request from Logan, not a demand, and I went to him instantly. His hands swept over my skin, greedy to touch what he’d been denied. They plunged beneath the back of my panties, and he gripped a handful of flesh, driving me against his hard body.
“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, which grew reckless and frantic, and it was impossible not to match his intensity.
“I love you so much,” I answered back, clawing at his underwear.
It was a race to see who could get the other one naked first, but he won, of course. He lifted me up into his arms and stepped into the tub. A moment later he had the faucet shut off and the jets running, both of us sitting in the warm water. My back rested against his chest, while his strong arms held me, and his legs were wrapped around my waist.
There were tiny tugs at my hair. Was he . . .? I glanced over my shoulder and saw him set the bobby pin on the tile. Then, another. Shit, this man made everything sexy, even something as simple as helping me let my hair down. I grabbed his foot and pulled it into my lap, massaging the sole, and he issued a groan of approval.
We chatted about our morning apart, recapping our favorite moments from the day as he pulled the pins from my hair and I rubbed his tired feet. It wasn’t the type of intimacy I thought we’d share the moments after we came into the honeymoon suite, but it was wonderful. I loved the quiet moments with him just as much as the steamy, intense ones.
“I think I got them all,” he said. His fingertips drifted down my neck and he rubbed my shoulders as I combed my fingers through my hair, searching for any stragglers.
“Good . . . job,” I moaned. His hands were magic.
“What would you say if I told you we should get out so I could fuck my wife senseless?”
“I’d say I like the sound of that.”
“Hmm. I thought so.”
The jets were shut off and the water gurgled as he lifted the drain stop. I’d barely finished toweling off when he yanked the plush fabric from my hands and threw it to the ground. His expression was pure sexual hunger, only intensified in the candlelight. A gentle shove, and I was sprawled out beneath him on the bed.
“Look at you. All fucking gorgeous and so fucking mine.”
My lungs refused to work as he gripped his thick cock and stroked himself, his wedding band the only thing he wore. I couldn’t control myself. My fingers flew to my clit, touching myself.
“Oh, shit, Logan. I need you.”
He sank down to kneel and placed my knees on his shoulders. My body didn’t know how to react. I loved when he went down on me, but I was greedy and impatient. “No, please— God.” Then his tongue was inside me, and thought was too difficult. “Yes, yes.”
Velvety heat flicked on me, sending sparks radiating out and down my trembling legs. My moans were a mixture of satisfaction and whining, and they grew louder with each of Logan’s careful manipulations. Fire seared deep inside, and I bucked off the bed, seizing his head in my hands.
“Make love to me,” I cried. Every cell in me was quaking, and I worried I was going to vibrate apart. The only thing that could stop my uncontrollable trembling was if he brought us together.
The bed shifted as he launched to his feet, wiping his mouth with one hand and giving a final stroke to his rock-hard cock. He held himself steady and positioned himself right at the apex of my legs, rubbing the tip in my arousal.
“Green?” he teased.
“So fucking green. Please. Please.”
He pushed inside and I wanted to cry at how good it felt. The stretch the first time he moved in me was like nothing else. My legs tightened around his waist.
“Fuck, Evie. You feel amazing. So wet and so perfect.”
My eyes squeezed shut so I could better enjoy the sensations as he slid deep, all the way until I couldn’t take him any further. My hands clutched at his chest and he gripped them, linking our fingers together so he could hold my hands flat against the sheets.
His thrusts were slow and calculating. Each one seemed to hit a new spot that was better than the last. His mouth roved over my lips, my neck, and my breasts. I swallowed back a moan as he increased his pace. Spots danced in front of my vision as the orgasm closed in.
“Yellow,” I gasped.
I was sure I didn’t need to tell him; he knew my body better than I did sometimes. He knew exactly how much I could take, how much I needed.
“Did you . . . hear me?” I said between pants. He hadn’t eased up.
His voice and expression were authoritative. “I heard you.”
I fought against his hold. He needed to slow his roll or I’d come, which usually made him come. “Fuck. I’m gonna . . . oh, red. Red!”
“No, Evie. You’re not allowed.” And then his mouth was on mine, sealing me off from asking permission to come. It wasn’t a game we played while I’d imposed the rule, and with what he was doing to me, I’d forgotten all about it.
I turned my head away from him and my voice shook as I demanded it. “I need permission.”
“For what?” He whispered it in my ear, his tone coy.
“Permission to come.”
He sucked on the tender spot of my neck, just below my ear. He drove into me. This wasn’t lovemaking. He was owning my body now, and I lifted my hips up off the mattress, eager to meet him.
“Okay, Mrs. Stone. You have my permission to come.”
I let out a cry, or maybe a scream as it began. Sparks of pleasure burst, lifting me higher and higher, until I fell over the crest of bliss. My muscles tightened and strained against the sensations rolling through me. As the intensity of the orgasm began to fade, warmth washed from the tips of my toes upward.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” Logan’s curse words signaled the trigger had been pulled on his release. His right hand abandoned mine, and scooped beneath my neck, cradling my head. “Open your eyes.”
His damp forehead rested against mine and I followed his command. Oh my God. His fascinating eyes stared down into my soul as he shuddered. He came hard, and loudly. Every desperate gasp for breath was for me. The throbbing of his body inside mine . . . I’d never get enough of this. My connection to him was so strong, nothing could break it.
His skin, still damp from the bath, or perhaps slick with sweat, stuck to mine, but I didn’t care. For a long while we lay on the bed kissing and touching, enjoying each other.
“Want to make a deal?” I whispered.
“I’m listening.”
�
��You blow out all these candles and let me lie here, and I’ll blow you when you’re done.”
He twisted his mouth into a knowing smile. “Right. I’m sure you won’t be fast asleep when I get back here.”
I put my hand on his jaw, brushing my thumb over his lips. “I didn’t say when specifically I’d blow you.”
“New rule, then. Promised oral sex must be delivered in a timely fashion.”
I giggled. “No more rules, Logan.”
He rose up on an elbow and brushed a lock of my hair out of my eyes, his face going serious. “One more rule. We say ‘I love you’ every night before we fall asleep.”
It was something we already did, so I had no problem defining it this way. “Absolutely.”
“Don’t go breaking it, rule breaker.” He faked a strict, harsh look.
“Never, boss. I love you.”
“I love you too, Eve.” He pressed his lips to mine in a kiss full of passion. “More than you can even imagine.”
And since I knew how much I loved him, I could imagine a lot.
THANK YOU
To my husband. You're all the best parts of my heroes and then some.
To my editor Lori Whitwam for squeezing this project in. You make me feel like such a rockstar whenever I get your emails.
To my beta readers Robin Bateman, Keyanna Butler, Joscelyn Freeman Fussell, Rebecca Nebel, and Nikki Terrill for your great feedback and comments. "I think he should slap her pussy here..."
To the fans of the Blindfold Club series (especially my Naughty Nymphs). Your support means the absolute world to me, and I can't thank you enough.
THE BLINDFOLD CLUB SERIES
THREE SIMPLE RULES (Book 1)
I would do anything for my dream job. Now I have to.
In order to save my skin at the office, I'm forced to sell it at an exclusive and illegal blindfold club. He paid thousands of dollars for one night to own me, but when my blindfold comes off, I want more. More nights, more rules, and more from this unavailable and uncompromising man.