Before I Ever Met You

by Karina Halle

  I jam my finger into his chest again, my face turning hot as the anger and frustration pour through me. “I hated you so much and you let me!”

  He wraps his hand around my finger and yanks it away from him. “That’s all on you, kid. You could have found out the truth if you dared to dig a little deeper, if you questioned who Juliet really was instead of blindly accepting it.”

  “I didn’t know the real her!” I cry softly.

  “None of us really did,” he says. “I doubt even your mother.” He pauses. “Admit it, you just wanted to hate me. It’s what I said earlier. Why you never bothered to find out the truth.”

  I pull away from him, walking across the room, my hands at the sides of my head like I’m keeping it from exploding. “Oh, this fucking shit again.”

  “Because you wanted me,” he goes on, his voice carrying across the room. “You wanted me just as I wanted you. From the moment you first came and stood beside me and let me know that you were my equal, that you were on my side.”

  That makes me pause in my tracks. “What are you talking about?” I whisper.

  “One of the reasons I never told you, or your mother, or anyone in your family the truth about Juliet, the truth of what she did, one of the reasons why I took the blame and let her paint me the villain, was because I already felt guilty.”

  Don’t turn around, I tell myself. He’s walking closer to me, I can feel his heat, the power of him, at my back. It’s like the sun. “Why were you guilty?” I ask carefully.

  “Because I should have been with you, Ronnie. It’s always been you.”

  My heart vaults inside my chest, bouncing in circles. It’s everything I’ve wanted to hear and yet I’m still afraid to hear it.

  “I spent part of my marriage wishing I was married to you instead.”

  I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears back. I can’t help it. Everything I’ve been led to believe has been a lie, a lie told by both sides. Was anything ever real? Was anyone ever going to share the truth with me, or was the truth something else that I didn’t deserve, another thing I was unworthy of?

  “Veronica, please,” he says. “I never wanted you to hate me. But it was the only way this could work.”

  “Who are you then?” I scream, whirling around. “Who was she?”

  And then he’s right in front of me, his massive frame taking up all the space. He grabs my wrists, yanking me toward him. His gaze is all fire. “She was a person, okay? She was just a person.”

  “She was my sister!” I cry out, tears starting to burn at the corners of my eyes. “She was everything I tried to be!”

  “And in the end she was just as flawed as you are,” he growls, his grip tightening. “She wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t even a nice person half the time. You want the ugly truth or do you want to keep putting her on that pedestal?” He takes a breath, closing his eyes briefly. “Veronica, I know you’re angry that you wasted so much of your life trying to become a lie, but you don’t have to do that anymore. You never did. God, you’re so beautiful just as you, you’re better than you’ll ever think you’ll be.”

  Now my heart is competing for space in my chest, swelling and growing. It’s hungry, so fucking hungry for more of his words and only Logan can feed it.

  “We…I,” I try to say but the sobs are masking my words.

  “I told you how I feel,” he says, voice so low and gruff it makes the hair rise on my arms, my body erupt in goosebumps. “And that still stands. So I’m sorry I’m not the asshole you thought I was. I’m sorry if that makes everything that much harder now.” He licks his lips, his nostrils flaring as he breathes. I get the distinct feeling that he’s trying to control himself, and it’s maddening how much I want him to lose control.

  “How can this work?” I ask meekly, my eyes drawn to his lips. “How can we do this?”

  “It’s very. Fucking. Simple.”

  And then his lips are on mine, crushing and soft. Pure velvet lust that turns sweetly violent.

  His hand is at the back of my neck, his other fingers are pressing at my jaw and cheek as his tongue assaults me with such rolling passion I can feel it all the way in my toes. Just like the last two times he kissed me, he’s in complete control and I surrender. I surrender completely. I want him to take me, take me over, devour me, annihilate me. I want every single part of him, deep, deep, deep. I want to see how much of him I can take, how he feels from the inside, what it’s like to be thoroughly fucked by Logan Shephard.

  It’s wrong, the thought snakes into my head.

  But it’s fleeting. For once, the guilt is fleeting. I don’t want to listen anymore to what’s right and what’s wrong. Right and wrong have no more bearing on my life, have no value. Everything has been a lie. I just want him. Right here, right now. I want him to let us out of the cage we’d put ourselves in and turn this world upside down.

  And Logan does just that. He’s a wild animal, feral to the core as his mouth sinks into the valley between my neck and my shoulder, biting with hunger and lust.

  I groan loudly and one of his hands slips low along my hips, hiking up the hem of my dress. Every nerve ending on my body dances with anticipation.

  I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe we’re doing this.

  It can’t be stopped. I can’t be stopped. His hand skirts over my belly, sliding inside my underwear and down, down to where I’m absolutely soaked.

  “Christ,” he murmurs against me. “You’re too good to be true.”

  He feels too good to be true. His thick rough finger slides along my clit and my body immediately melts into his hand, needing more, wanting more. I’d never had the need to get off strike me like this before, like a match against the striker. It’s almost a ride or die situation.

  I grab hold of the back of his neck, his skin hot to touch, my body greedy for him. His fingers play gently along my clit, teasing like fluttery wings, before the they plunge up inside me.

  A gasp escapes my mouth.

  “Oh god,” Logan says thickly, bringing his lips back to mine. “You keep making those noises and I won’t last very long.”

  “You don’t have to last long,” I tell him, sucking in my breath as his fingers slowly withdraw. “Just fuck the hell out of me.”

  I can’t even believe I said that but I’m so fucking crazed that I don’t care.

  “A woman after my own heart,” he says before he's lowering his head to my breast, pulling the neckline of my dress to the side until my nipple is exposed and hardening in the air. His lips gently suck at the tip before he draws it into his mouth in one long, hard pull.

  My back is arching for more and breathless groans are coaxed out of me. We're still standing in the middle of the living room and I'm not sure how much more I can take like this. I'm getting desperate for him in a way I never thought possible, an aching need that's clawing its way up through my core, turning every part of my body into an addict.

  He pinches my nipple between his teeth and, as he does so, plunges his fingers back inside me, three of them this time. I expand around him, needing more. Every inch of my skin is on fire for him and only he can put out the flames.

  “Fuck,” he growls as he withdraws his hand, putting his fingers into his mouth. He doesn't break eye contact as he tastes me, licking the side of his finger with his large tongue.

  My eyes widen. In all the sex I've had in my life, I've never had anyone do something like that, and now it's Logan, Logan of all people, in front of me and he's breaking down my barriers and bringing me somewhere completely new.

  Somewhere that still scares me.

  Somewhere I need to be.

  “Taste yourself,” he says before his mouth crashes against mine again. I'm salty, musky, slightly sweet as his tongue probes further against mine, whipping up my desire to the boiling point. This is already the hottest thing I've ever experienced.

  Before I know what's happening, he's pushing me back, his massive body looming over me. �
�Get on the floor,” he says, his voice husky and rich, screaming of sex.

  I drop down to my knees on the rug, staring up at him while he quickly yanks down his sweatpants. His cock bobs free and I'm breathless once again.

  There are pretty penises and there are some decent dicks, but Logan has been packing one hell of a python in his pants. I know I've felt it before, its mass crushed against me while we kissed, but now that it's in front of me, it's fucking dangerous-looking.

  I can barely tear my eyes away from his cock to look up at him. Of course he looks smug—why shouldn't he—but there's a sense of awe in his eyes, like he can't believe this is happening. That makes two of us.

  Since I'm already on my knees and I'm salivating for the taste of him, I grab his ass with one hand, my fingernails digging in as I tug him toward me. With my other hand I grasp his cock at the base, making a ring around it. He's so goddamn hard, it's like velvet steel, and silky to touch. I can feel the hot blood rushing underneath, the way his cock ticks with each beat of his heart.

  I close my eyes and tentatively slide my tongue along the sensitive underside before circling his crown, dark and lush, licking at the precum. The salt hits my tongue, revving my desire for him to another level.

  His hand goes into my damp hair, pulling lightly, and he groans as I try and take him all into my mouth.

  “I told you I wouldn't last long, Freckles,” he says breathlessly. “I mean that still.” He pulls away from me, his cock wet and bobbing from my mouth and glances down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “No offense, you can suck me off later if you're so inclined, but if I don't fuck the living hell out of you right now, I might just die.” He jerks his chin at me. “Turn around.”

  My heart is pumping hard in anticipation as I pivot around on the rug so I'm on all fours, my ass raised in the air. He drops to his knees behind me and I hold my breath, waiting for his touch.

  Swiftly he lifts up my dress until it's bunched around my waist. I expect him to slide my underwear down over my ass but instead I hear a fucking rip as he tears it in half.

  “What the fuck?” I cry out and try and turn around.

  “I'll buy you new ones,” he says gruffly, moments before he grabs my ass, squeezing hard so I stay in place. I flinch, the pressure from his fingertips is firm and yet the moment he yields, I want it even more.

  He pulls me toward him as he positions himself and with one swift jerk, pushes into me. The air is expelled from my chest as he fills me, a gasp broken on my lips.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, shuddering the words as he pushes himself fully inside.

  I can’t speak. I can’t think. I can only feel, every single inch of his hard cock as I squeeze around him. I try and nod, get my breath.

  His grip around my ass tightens. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle,” he says. “But I can promise you’ll come so hard you won’t know any name but mine.”

  Holy hell. His words shock me to the core, dirty enough to make my skin grow even hotter. I’m on fire inside and out.

  “Does that sound good?” he asks, his voice thicker now. “Can you handle that?” He pauses, slowly pulling out in such a teasing, languid way that it’s torturous. I feel empty, aching for him, I want him to fill me up and up and up, like a balloon ready to burst.

  “Give me hell,” I tell him and if I feel a flash of embarrassment over talking like this, it’s over in a second because his hand cracks across my ass with a loud slap as he hisses, “Yes,” and then he’s pounding into me, fast and deep and relentless. Over and over and over again, this breakneck pace that has me trying to hang on to the rug for dear life, my breasts jiggling with each quick, hard thrust.

  “You feel better than heaven,” he says through a husky groan. His pumps become quicker, deeper, and messy, like he’s losing control and going over the edge and taking me with him. I’ve never had a man in so deep like this, not just inside me but inside my head. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I shouldn’t have and he’s fucking me like we might lose everything tomorrow.

  The same urgency that’s running through him is running through me. I drop onto one elbow, and with my other hand reach for my clit, the pressure building to unbearable heights as he fucks that sweet spot inside me.

  “Don’t cheat,” he growls, batting my hand away and grabbing the back of my hair until it’s gathered in his hand. He pushes forward until my cheek is pressed into the rug and he’s holding me down, grunting hard with each thrust.

  Jesus. He’s out of control. He’s become someone else, an animal, a beast, as relentless as the waves. I’m at his mercy and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than for him to take such control and just fuck the living hell out of me.

  Hell, heaven, whatever this is, I know it’s something I’ll never come back from. I know I’ll never want to. In my wildest, kinkiest dreams about him, it’s never been this good.

  While he yanks back at my hair and then holds me down in place, he slips his other hand under my stomach, his fingers finding my clit.

  I’m so wet, slick and ready for him, it doesn’t take long for him to push me to the edge. I feel just as I did when I was surfing, at that terrifying moment when you know you’re going over. But the waves here are completely different. They promise to make me anew.

  He is merciless, grunting hard with each thrust, this rough, animalistic noise that gets louder and louder the closer he gets to coming. It’s such a fucking beautiful noise that it causes the heat to build in my core, coaxing the last bit of fire I have left.

  I don’t even have time to tell him I’m coming. It just happens, quick and swift, and I’m swept away, tumbling and turning, over and over as the orgasm churns through me. It’s an undertow, it’s a rip, it has me in its clutches and I never want it to let me go. My body quakes and shudders from head to toe as I pulse around him. I am light and heavy and my heart has wings. I never want to feel anything but this, never want anyone else but him.

  “Veronica,” he groans out my name and then I feel him as he comes, the pressure in my hair, the slamming of his hips into my ass. The sounds coming out of his mouth are crude and I’d give anything to watch his face as he empties into me. “Yes. God, yes.”

  His thrusts slow down, his hand in my hair slowly letting go, releasing the pressure from my head. He’s breathing hard, his hulking body hovering over me. Drops of sweat fall onto my back, making me shudder.

  Then, as the orgasm starts to slide away into the background, the reality of what we’d just done hits me, like those sneaker waves that get you when you’re trying to get back on the beach.

  Logan Shephard just fucked me on his rug. From behind. My head pressed—no, held—to the ground. He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before and I’m starting to think I need a new word to describe that because “fuck” just isn’t enough.

  And you didn’t use a condom, I remind myself. I’m lucky I’m on the pill, though I should be more careful next time.

  Next time. What a crazy thought. Part of me can’t assume there will be a next time. The other part of me thinks that’s all there is. Next time. There has to be. Sex can’t be that good and only happen once. It’s an insult to the act of sex itself.

  Meanwhile, as my brain starts to come to grips with everything, Logan is still breathing heavily and his hand slowly trails down my head, over my neck and down my spine.

  “Veronica,” he whispers, grabbing my waist.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  He slowly pulls out, cum dripping onto my thighs, and exhales loudly. “God, you’re everything I dreamed you would be.”

  I can’t help but smile. “So you’ve been dreaming about me?”

  “Every day, Freckles. Every bloody day.” He sighs and runs his hand back up my spine. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.” He touches my hair gingerly. “I do love your hair.”

  More smiling. I’m kind of glad he can’t see my face right now because I know I have the look of a teenager with th
e world’s biggest crush. Heart eyes have nothing on me.

  “Nah,” I tell him. “Maybe a bit of rug burn, but it’s worth it.” I turn around to look at him, his eyes glazed and sated, cheeks flushed. I’ve never seen him like this before. He looks vulnerable. He’s beautiful.

  We stare at each other for a few beats before I try to get to my knees and pull down my dress. He reaches out and stops me, his hand on my wrist.

  “Take it off,” he says.

  I blink at him, give him a crooked smile. “The dress?”

  “Off.”

  For some reason I expected this to be the part of the night where we put our clothes back on. I can see I’m wrong. I quickly oblige, lifting the dress over my head, glad I hadn’t worn a bra. If I had, there’s a chance it would be lying on the rug ripped in half like my underwear. And a good bra isn’t cheap.

  Of course my mind is thinking about this because it’s having a hard time coming to terms, once again, that I slept with Logan. I know that all those worries, all that guilt I carry in my heart, is waiting to come loose.

  Luckily, Logan himself is a brilliant distraction.

  “Get on the couch,” he says, nodding toward the tan couch in the living room.

  I’m not really sure what to expect but I get up and walk, very naked, very awkward, over to the couch. I mean, I’ve lost a bit of weight since coming here but I still have my cellulite (though a bit more disguised because of my tan), I still have my jiggly thighs and butt and padded hips, and I’m walking completely exposed. Which is something I have never done before, not even for Erik. I can feel Logan’s eyes on every inch of my body as I go and it takes a lot of willpower to not cover myself up and run for the hills.

  “Get on the couch,” he says. “Spread your legs.”

  I turn around and stare openly at him. “What?”

  He gives me a predatory half-smile as he gets to his feet and walks over. My eyes are drawn to his dick, of course, and the holy specimen of man that it’s attached to. Good lord, this man needs to have statues erected in his honor. And that’s not just a play on words.