by Lynda Chance
Oh, yeah, she loved this guy. He seemed resigned that guys would hit on her—it had happened several times before—but Logan tried to restrain himself in public. He tried so damned hard, but she knew how much it cost him, which made it all the sweeter that he tried so hard for her sake. But still, standing in front of her now was the Logan who would be determined to prove that she was his and his alone. The one who needed to stake his claim—in the way that satisfied them both.
And that was the thing that secretly thrilled her the most. He made no effort to hide the fact that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, that he wanted complete and utter sexual control—but he also never made a secret of the fact that he adored her, body and soul, and with that knowledge, she began hyperventilating.
Oh, yeah. The sex was going to be good. She could smell it—she could taste it.
What was it that made times like these so damn good?
It was the fact that her fantasies always came true. When he was like this, he scared her just a little, in the best kind of way—in a way that amped up her need for him and had her desperate for his touch. So at times like these, she could revel in her feminine fear all the while knowing it would end well—hell, it might end well twice—for both of them. At the thought, she cracked up on the inside, her lips spontaneously lifting into a smile. Hell—she couldn’t help it. He made her so damn happy.
As he saw the smile, he kicked the door closed with a booted foot that was meant to indicate his impatience with her and then he turned and locked it, the deadbolt clicking into place with an exaggerated clamor.
That delicious, taboo feeling of foreboding crept into her tummy as butterflies exploded—he was going to hold her down and fuck her blind and it was taking everything she had to simply stand still and let it play out.
Calm down, Lauren, calm down. She took a ragged breath as he faced her, his brows drawn together, his lips held in a tight, unhappy line. Jesus, yes! Crap he was impatient and holy hell it was going to be good.
“Why the shit-eating grin? What the hell are you smiling about?” he rasped crisply, through gritted teeth.
“Nothing,” she lied in a whisper, desperately trying not to fidget.
He took one step toward her and then stopped abruptly, his feet planted firmly apart. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to hold his eyes and not glance down at his bulging junk—junk she was practically drooling to cup between her hands. And then bury her face—
“Bullshit, Lauren,” he snapped, bringing her back to attention. “You think it’s fucking funny that that asshole wanted to fuck you? You think that’s funny?”
Hell, she’d forgotten all about that. The only thing she was aware of was that Logan was standing in front of her with an impatient, throbbing cock and that’s all the hell she could concentrate on. As his shoulders seemed to grow even wider, tendons popping in his neck as tension gripped him, she again was hit with a spurt of desire that was beyond difficult to conceal. “No, not at all,” she whispered through a hint of a smile. How was she supposed to control her excitement and fevered anticipation? She was literally dying to jump his bones—but not exactly—she wanted to be the one who was jumped. Oh, my, yes.
“Are you laughing at me, babe?” he asked, the ominous tone sending a new wave of shivers down her spine.
She began shaking her head, sexual heat almost decimating her on the spot. Nope, not laughing at him—definitely not. Anticipating what she knew would undoubtedly be one of the best orgasms of her life was far from laughing. Damn her sorry hide, he’d given her the sweetest and sexiest orgasm not half an hour ago—but now she craved more—the other kind. The kind that kept their marriage so hot it was seriously beyond comprehension. Yes, she was a blessed girl that way.
“Of course I’m not laughing at you, babe,” she said shakily. “You make me happy, that’s all.” Good answer, yeah? And as she said it, she took a simple step back—a step that had him moving toward her, the stalking that she was craving only beginning. Cat and mouse, her favorite game.
“I make you happy, huh?” he snapped as he began unloading his pockets unto the countertop with icy precision. He paused to turn a quick tempered, heat-filled glare in her direction. “Well guess what? You’re about to be so fucking happy you’ll be feeling it, feeling me, for days.” First his keys, then his wallet, and finally, his cell phone hit the countertop as another wave of delight crashed over her. Suppress it, Lauren. It’ll be better that way. He turned back to her, held out his hand, and snapped his fingers, “Hand it over.”
He wanted her cell phone.
She knew the drill. First, he’d cut off any means of communication she might have with the outside world. Then he’d lock her inside a room with him—a room of his choice. Then he’d yell and rage and let off his frustration. And finally, they’d get to the good stuff. Not that it wasn’t all good, because it was. Every. Single. Controlled. Glance. Every. Single. Jealous. Word. So, yeah, she loved her caveman. She got off on her caveman. It might not work for everyone, but she didn’t give a crap. The way he acted, what they did together, it’s what her body and senses craved. And damn lucky for her, Logan knew exactly how to satisfy that craving.
Her oxygen intake became faster, her breasts heaving with exertion. Not about to deny him, she began fumbling behind her where her cell phone sat next to the neglected Tupperware. She didn’t dare take her eyes from him, almost afraid she might miss something, something good. Every single one of his over-the-top reactions set off a wave of heat, and damn if she was going to miss a single one. He let out a deep, irritated sigh at her delay and within seconds, reached around behind her, making a grab for her phone and then tossing it into a drawer with his.
Now, with nothing to slow him down and nothing between them, he sank his fingers around her wrist and began leading her briskly through the house. He was impatient, going so fast that her feet stumbled. He stopped short as she plowed into him from behind, her torso hitting his back.
He swiveled on his feet and with a motion she was very used to, twisted her arm behind her back until her breasts were pressed full force against him. “Are you anxious or scared, babe?” Staring down into her eyes, she supposed he felt like he needed to say what came next. “You know I’m not going to hurt you.”
She knew that, of course. “I know.” But with her arm pinned in a stranglehold behind her back and absolutely zero chance of escape, the blood was pumping through her veins so hard she could barely see straight. “I didn’t do anything wrong, you know.”
Why’d she say that? Of course she knew that he knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. So, why? The answer was easy: Because this game between them was so damn hot.
“Fuck, I know that, babe,” he said with a touch of adulation, no matter the unbreakable hold he continued to employ. “You never do anything wrong. It’s them—the motherfuckers in the world. You can’t help the way you look. You can’t help the way you move—that sexy as shit way you move that holds me spellbound 24/7.” As he made that statement, his facial features turned from adoring to pissed in less than a heartbeat and she knew his thoughts had turned again as well. “But those assholes over there have me fucking unhinged.” His fingers tightened around her wrist. “Somebody thinks they can have you, so help me god I’ll murder them in cold blood. Gibson’s gonna hear about this, trust me. But first, I need to feel you. I need to know that you’re mine—mine, baby. I own you, Lauren, and I need you to understand that.”
She leaned into him as much as she could with the way he held her. “You know I’m yours—I’ve always understood that. You know no one else will ever have me—as long as I live. I love you more than life itself and I’ll give you whatever you want. Whatever you need to take from me.”
Her words and offer didn’t calm him down, as she knew they wouldn’t. They only reminded him that he held free reign over her, that she’d let him do whatever the hell he wanted, and now he wanted to prove it, to himself and to her.
Of course, Lauren knew she could always stop him. They’d been through this many times (much to her delight!) and they’d long ago established the word that would slow Logan down if she ever became uncomfortable with the way things were going. And that word was ‘stop’. Nothing more was ever needed.
But she knew she wouldn’t stop him, because she wasn’t afraid he’d actually hurt her, certainly not on purpose. He never got so carried away that she had to stop him, because Logan was all about pleasing her, in every possible way, even when he had her staked spread-eagled to the bed like a marauder. Damn, had she mentioned how much she freaking loved this guy?
So for now, she gloried in her deepest fantasy about to come to life, once again. It blew her mind, the variety of their lovemaking. Not even an hour ago he’d wanted nothing more than to slowly seduce her. But now, that man had disappeared and now she was left with a Logan who wanted to ravage her. To hold her down to prove something. Whatever, she didn’t care. All she cared about at the moment was the hot sex they were about to have.
So, knowing she was well-loved and that she trusted him completely, she shut her eyes and went with her fantasy—the game was on.
She began by pulling on her arm as if she meant to get away. The ploy worked. It set him off immediately. His fingers grew tighter around her wrist as he lifted her arm behind her back just that much to where she felt a slight pinch at the edge of pain. He hissed under his breath, her lids flying open at the sound. His gaze was zeroed in on her, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t even think about it,” he intoned through gritted teeth. “You attempt to wriggle away from me just once more—you won’t like the results, I promise you.”
The challenge was too much to resist. She stared straight into his eyes as she began pulling on her arm again.
The result of her action made her see awe-inducing stars. He let go of her wrist, twirling her around so fast that it made her dizzy. Her back was to his front and he wasted little time, sinking his arms around her, holding her caught so tightly she could barely breathe. Her thighs began pulsing triple time, her nipples becoming tight points of desire.
His head lowered, his mouth going to her ear. His hot breath washed over her, his words sending goose bumps along her spine. “Hold. Fucking. Still. I don’t want to hurt you, so you best hold still.”
She held still, but she didn’t relax. She tightened her body in a way that he couldn’t possible miss and the result was one hard palm sinking tightly around her breast while the other slid down to the vee between her thighs. Holding her tight in his unrelenting grasp, his teeth clenched around her earlobe and he bit—hard enough to make her yelp.
“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, Lauren,” he growled, jerking her skirt up, his fingers forcing the elastic of her panties away from her mound. “Nobody touches what’s mine. Nobody even fucking looks at what’s mine unless they want to die, understand me?” His fingers found her wet folds, sinking between them, moving them apart, massaging her as if he couldn’t get close enough.
When she didn’t answer, hell, she couldn’t answer—he slid a finger inside with the force of an intruder—and bottle rockets went off in her head.
Suddenly all she wanted to do was touch him. Get him naked and go down on him, making him harder than a rock, making her wetter than wet…
But when she made a simple move to turn in his arms, it backfired. His merciless hold introduced her, once again, to the massive muscles that ran up and down his length, his no-holds-barred masculinity that attracted her so much it made her ache. He made a raw male sound in the back of his throat as if he were about to lose his shit if she moved so much as a single muscle—and her heart rate went berserk.
His legs braced apart; the power and domination she felt come over him only reiterated his mercurial mood. His reaction was that of a male animal that had been challenged and a frisson of delicious fear bled down her spine. Good fear. Yeah, the best damn kind of fear. But fear, all the same.
She was totally, one hundred percent, under this man’s power and wouldn’t have it any other way—and the fear mixed with desire she was feeling was holding her on a precipice.
“What’d I tell you about moving?” he thundered, immediately adding a second finger to the first. She gasped, her channel stretching as the veins in his arms became welts that protruded, showing off his jacked-up muscles. As he impaled her, she felt herself soften, becoming even wetter for him.
He felt it, too.
He pressed her back against his thighs where she could feel his straining erection. “Gonna fuck you, Lauren. Gonna fuck you over and over until everything bad disappears from my brain and all that’s left is you.”
At his words, a shower of sparks crackled around them as her stomach flipped over. Primitive hunger clawed through her veins but she was still held too firmly to do anything about it.
Suddenly, her world careened on its axis as he released her from his intimate hold and lifted her off her feet.
Not romantically, not held within the safety of his arms. No, Logan didn’t have romance in mind.
Her world was turned upside down as he tossed her over his shoulder, holding her by the legs as her torso dangled against his back.
He started heading to the back of the house but made it no farther than the first bedroom. Dropping her to her feet, he swiveled, shutting and locking the bedroom door—as if taking no chances that she would get away. When he turned around to confront her, his face was like granite, his eyes locked on hers, the grooves by the sides of his mouth deep, underlying his concentration, his sexual intent.
He had a one-track mind, and she was the only thing that mattered to him.
Fireworks exploded in her belly as she began to back up. He followed her with purpose, putting one foot in front of the next until he stood in front of her, until the back of her knees touched the bed. Her chin lifted, her eyes catching his. His expression was severe, his lips in a flattened line that dried up anything she might have chosen to say.
No words were really needed. Her heart was beating so swiftly that she was beyond light-headed. She put one hand to his chest, whether as a caress or a simple attempt to slow him down, she didn’t know.
And she never found out because he grabbed her fingers, balled her hand into a fist and locked her arm down to her side. “How much do you like this dress?” he asked, his voice guttural.
“I—it’s new,” she managed through trembling lips.
“That wasn’t the question,” he snarled, putting his hands on either side of the neckline, grabbing it between his brawny fists and ripping it—shredding it into two separate pieces of material, from the top to the bottom.
She gasped, feeling her face turn red, feeling the quiver inside her stomach settle to the vee between her thighs as his dominant personality exploded, sending her senses straight to heaven.
“I’ll buy you another—I’ll buy you five more,” he gritted out, pulling the shredded material from her body and tossing it aside. “I’ll never be able to look at it again and find any enjoyment—I still want to kill him so fucking bad my fingers are itching.”
“It’s okay—“ she attempted to soothe, but he cut her off with his mouth on hers. Cutting off her words, her breath, any ability she might have had left to think straight. His other hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding on tightly, so tightly she knew he’d leave marks, but she was too far gone to care.
His tongue plowed deep, kissing her with all the pent-up aggression he’d had to contain earlier. She opened her mouth wider and allowed it, giving him what he needed in that moment. His tongue swirled around hers, his lips plundering, his teeth clashing against hers in his attempt to reach every bit of her. He was Logan, so there was no way he could be awkward, but he damn sure wasn’t smooth in that moment.
Sex was on his mind, and domination was his favored sport.
Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head as she felt wet heat trickle down her thigh, her expectations high.
He was her husband and he was almost too good to be true. Thank you, God.
He lashed her mouth repeatedly and then cupped her chin, maneuvering her to the exact position he wanted—and then he went back for more. He growled low in his throat and then his hand dropped to her naked breast where he squeezed her nipple. When she let out a soft moan of desire, he went ballistic, dropping to his knees and taking her nipple into his mouth.
He sucked her there, hard, still holding her in place. She began panting uncontrollably and in the back of her barely-functioning mind, she heard him heaving in breaths as well.
Suddenly he pushed her to the bed, her butt landing on the edge, leaving her in a sitting position. With both hands, he reached to either side of her hips and dragged down her underwear, tossing the garment away as if it were a nuisance he could do without.
Wasting no time, he spread her legs and looked his fill. And when that wasn’t enough, he spread them wider. He lifted his head, his cheekbones flecked with red heat as he stared straight into her eyes, lifting his long middle finger into his mouth, dampening it. With his eyes fixed sharply on hers, he reached down and sank his finger inside with one hard, quick thrust that made her flex and gasp.
Her already damp thighs immediately became even damper. Still on his knees, he reached up, pulled her head down to his and kissed her again, seducing her with the depth of his kisses and the depth of his finger within her feminine folds.
She couldn’t sit still much longer. Her breasts were aching, her knees were trembling and she wanted to lift her hips and move them back and forth so badly it was killing her.
As if he knew exactly what she wanted, he swiftly rose to his feet, tore off his shirt and divested himself of his shoes and remaining clothing within seconds.
Asking no permission, knowing he needed no permission, he put his hands under her arms and bodily lifted her, tossing her lengthwise across the bed, where she fell to her back.