Beg for Me

by Natalie Anderson

  But it came up on her in a rush—too quick—a culmination of sheer, total joy. She stiffened, hovering, every muscle seized tight, to the point of pain as she paused at the brink.

  He didn’t let her hold it for long. He pumped, pounding into her. Relentlessly pushing her towards that final breaking point.

  Until finally she convulsed, her teeth baring down hard as pleasure ricocheted through her. She heard his incoherent shout, felt his hands tighten, as she lost control, tossed into a storm of unbearable pleasure. It was like her skin had burst and sensation streamed out, enveloping them both in ecstasy.

  Release. Relief.

  Satisfaction.

  She breathed jerkily, literally flattened, tasted blood from where she’d bitten on the inside of her cheek. Didn’t care. So worth it.

  He braced, lifting the bulk of his weight from her, as if he knew he was too heavy. But she hadn’t minded. She’d liked feeling him so rested against her.

  Now, he wrapped his arm round her waist and pulled her to curl in against his chest. “Min, that was amazing.”

  She kept her eyes closed, holding back the emotion threatening to sweep over her. She shook her head. “D-d-don’t make it out to be anything more than it is,” she whispered. Telling herself more than she meant to tell him. Reminding herself that this was just for today. Just temporary.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Sex.”

  “Min, that really was—”

  “It’s only b-b-because you haven’t had any for a little while,” she said softly. She didn’t want him flattering her, making out like this was anything more than just a good time.

  “Min, I’ve had a lot of sex.”

  “Quit the b-bragging already,” she tried to tease.

  “It’s not because I’ve been without,” he said, rolling her to face him. “We have kicking chemistry. You know we do.” He bent over her, sweeping his hand down her stomach. “Doesn’t it feel insanely good to you too? You’ve been without even longer than I have.”

  “No I haven’t.” She made herself laugh. “I’ve had countless orgasms in the last w-week.”

  “This is different.”

  It was. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit it.

  “Min...”

  She swallowed. She totally didn’t get why this mattered so much. Why he wanted her to admit how moved she was. “It was just s-s-sex.”

  His mouth curved. “You can’t lie very well.”

  “I don’t only s-s-stutter when I lie... when I t-tell the t-t-truth too.” She closed her eyes in silent agony.

  “And when you’re scared,” he said softly. “That’s what you told me. Are you scared now?”

  “D-don’t want to talk.” She refused to open her eyes.

  “Maybe we should talk,” he said quietly.

  She shook her head.

  “You said yourself full penetration makes things different.” He was like a dog with a damned bone.

  “Stalling tactic,” she whispered.

  “Why did you need to stall?”

  ‘To stop you g-getting everything you wanted too soon.”

  “You were teaching me a lesson?”

  “Patience.”

  “Well I’m not patient anymore. This makes things different. You know it does.”

  She shook her head, rejecting this. No. This wasn’t what she’d wanted or expected. For Logan to suddenly want to take this seriously? She couldn’t believe in that. It was another of his whims.

  “No it d-doesn’t,” she said. “I’m just another woman you’ve had a fling with. Another woman you’ve... j-just another woman.” She tried to laugh it off. This was nothing more than an easy ride.

  Except he wasn’t laughing with her. When she opened her eyes because he’d been silent too long, he looked pissed.

  “You’re my only fiancée,” he said.

  “That’s n-not real.” She sobered quickly.

  “It’s real for now.” He threw back the sheet, his body hard again. His muscles twitching. “And I’m having you again. Now.”

  He straddled her, his movements were fast, angry. Tormenting.

  Until they gentled. As if he couldn’t stop himself from savoring her. Like he was still suffering from waiting so long, he refused to snatch and finish too soon.

  He made her come without him. Made her writhe and sigh and reach for him. Until she could no longer reach, until she could only twist her fingers in the sheets and spread her legs as wide as she could as he touched her... as he made her beg every way she could make her body beg. Her nipples screaming tight, her sex slippery wet.

  And he kissed her. Kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. Even when he was finally locked tight inside her and pumping fast, he kissed her. So very close, so very deep.

  Devastating.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  #MoreMoreMore

  “So silent. Too silent.” Logan looked down at her. He couldn’t get over it.

  Even in the height of orgasm, Min remained silent. Even when he was out of his mind with pleasure, she somehow kept her head enough to hold back...

  But when he’d kissed her, he’d tasted blood in her mouth. He’d seen the way she bit on her lip, or the inside of her cheek. As for her saying this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary?

  It wasn’t right.

  Bracing over her again, he looked down at her face as she caught her breath, her face flushed. Her body lax. But her mind?

  She met his gaze, her eyes filled with challenge.

  “You want me to act like a p-pornstar?” she asked. “You need screams and sighs to know you’re d-d-doing it okay?” She glared up at him.

  “No.” He laughed, loving her show of spirit. “But you’re especially silent. I’m worried you’re holding back.”

  Just as her denial that this wasn’t freaking amazing, worried him. They were outstanding together. The most combustible sex he’d had.

  Yet, in his bones, he knew she had more to give.

  “Maybe I p-prefer not to communicate vocally,” she said softly.

  “I can understand that—but I’m not talking words here. I don’t expect you to talk dirty to me.” He smoothed the hair from her hot forehead, then slid his hand down the side of her body, following her curves, gently teasing. “But you’re silent.”

  He kissed her again, stroked her with his tongue—felt the raw patch on the inside of her cheek. He tensed and drew back. Hating that she’d done that to herself.

  “Are you worried I’m faking it?”

  “I know you’re not faking it. I’ve licked you ‘til you come, there’s no faking the way you cream and clench on me like that.” He ran his fingers between her legs as he spoke, feeling as heat scoured through her. Excited again.

  Pleasure coursed through him, her quick response stoking his own flames. He wanted this to be even better for her. “You like me talking about turning you on. About what I like to do to you. What I’ll do to you again. Again and again.”

  But she barely even moaned when he did.

  “Logan,” she whispered. “I’ve had multiple orgasms. You’ve screwed me so hard I’m going to struggle to sit comfortably at breakfast tomorrow. What more do you want from me?”

  More.

  More of that honesty, more of that challenge. More of that heated welcome and that wet vice on his cock. More of her rubbing against him, like she couldn’t get close enough.

  He wanted more of all of that. And yet more.

  He lifted her so she sprawled over him, kissed her. Taking what he needed—her heat, her taste. While at the same time—recklessly—pouring out his need, his longing. He was giving it away, she’d know exactly how much he wanted her.

  She couldn’t fail to feel it—not just the way his erection was jutting into her belly, but in the desperation of that kiss. He wanted so much from her. He wanted her with him now. Next time she came, he wanted to come hard right with her. And he did.

  But she was sti
ll silent.

  When he woke early the next morning, she was already awake and looking at him with such appreciation, vitality hummed through him.

  “You feel better,” she whispered, smiling as she rolled onto her side to study him more closely, more physically.

  “I feel better than I have in months,” he said simply.

  “Aren’t the rejuvenating p-powers of sex amazing,” she teased, running her hand over his abs.

  Incredibly, his body responded. Again? After a night that extreme? He didn’t think they’d slept for more than half an hour at a time.

  And when they had, he’d been embedded in her.

  “Is that what keeps you so hot looking—your vibrant eyes, and that strength and virility you seem to ooze?” she asked. “Sex really suits you.”

  Startled, he laughed. “Doesn’t it suit everyone?”

  “I suppose,” she nodded, curling her fingers around his shaft. “But it definitely suits you.”

  Logan frowned, even as he bucked into her hand.

  She’d accused him of using sex as his anaesthetic. His drug of choice to escape his demons? Maybe that was true of him in years gone by. But now—with Min?

  He wasn’t numb.

  Maybe it wasn’t sex that suited him. But who he was having sex with.

  He switched their play, flipping her to her stomach, teasing her that way. He lifted her hips so her soft, round ass pressed against him. He wrapped an arm beneath her, to toy with her most sensitive spots.

  He’d play it as she’d said—just another fling. Another round of passionate, careless sex with just another woman.

  But it wasn’t any woman.

  It was Min’s glorious hair sweeping down her back, Min’s beautiful butt curving up to meet him. Min’s challenging eyes gleaming at him as she craned her neck to look behind her and challenge him.

  Min who made him work. He grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her soft flesh and fucked her harder. Pounding, almost brutal. Pushing her until her eyes glazed over and her cheeks were scarlet, her whole body drenched in sweat as orgasmic shudders ripped through her.

  But she was still damn silent.

  An hour later he dragged himself to shower and dress and face his family.

  “I’d better go apologize to Connor,” he said to her. “Then we’d better get out of here.”

  “You mean I’m going to have to move?”

  He grinned at the way she lay sprawled diagonally across the bed, a picture of wanton pleasure. Poor babe was all worn out? He’d take her back to Manhattan and let her rest up. With him. “I’ll bring you some coffee. Won’t be long.”

  He went downstairs to hunt out his brother.

  “Logan.”

  He paused halfway down the stairs. As good a mood as he was in, he didn’t feel like a lecture from his mother.

  “You slept well? We missed you at dinner last night. I didn’t realize you were planning on staying an extra night,” she said as she caught up with him.

  “We were tired, it’s been a busy week,” Logan answered.

  “Don’t let her get away, will you?” his mom said. “She’s the best possible candidate for you. She’s discreet. She’s stoic.”

  Candidate? Logan paused on the last step and turned to look at his mother. “Why would she need to be stoic?”

  His mom didn’t meet his eyes, just kept her gaze firmly on the wide doorway that led to the great hall. “You’re a Hughes.”

  “Actually, I’m not like him, Mom.” Logan refused to be like him. “And it’s for that very reason that I’m not going through with this. My engagement is a charade. Sorry if that’s going to embarrass you after all the effort you put into the party.”

  His mother looked shocked, then angered. In that suppressed way she did so well—her eyes widening, her lips tightening, her voice too measured. “That’s a mistake. You should marry her.”

  “No, your marriage was a mistake,” he interrupted. He couldn’t stand it. “Your choosing to put up with all that—”

  “What?” his mother flared, turning her sharp-eyed glance on him. “You don’t know everything. You don’t understand the subtleties. There’s more to your father and me than you’ll ever imagine. It might seem inconceivable to you, but we work well together.”

  “Yeah, you work.”

  “All relationships are work,” she said. “So it’s wise to enter one that’s mutually beneficial, for many reasons.”

  His mother was trying to convince him to enter a ‘convenient’ marriage? Really?

  “Mom, as the offspring of your supposedly beneficial marriage, I can say it’s not all its cracked up to be.”

  His mother sighed and walked forward into the hall. “You always were a romantic.”

  “What?” Logan caught up with her.

  “Always thinking everything should be perfect. You give up when you realize it isn’t.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” This was the woman standing there looking more perfect than some magazine matriarch. “I know there’s no such thing as perfect, but you guys exemplify fucked up.”

  And he wasn’t doing that to Min. She deserved so much more. He was so angry he couldn’t speak. Now he knew how Min felt. Frustrated, gagged in a way that wasn’t exciting.

  “Just think about it, Logan. She is suitable. She knows how to make a stand without making a scene.” His mom turned, her back ramrod straight, as if she’d never give an inch, when he knew full well she never stood and fought for herself. “Don’t throw everything away the way you usually do.”

  “I don’t throw everything away,” he retorted. “May I remind you I’m the CEO of my own company.” Not just the damn model. He’d made it a success beyond their dreams, and he helped realize other dreams with his investment portfolio. He had an eye for picking winners.

  His mother glanced at him, her expression utterly dismissive of his achievement. “You throw away anything that might hurt you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  #BleepBleepBleep

  Standing in the airport terminal, Min shifted from foot to foot. She couldn’t wait to get on the plane. Summerhill might be beautiful, but she was so done with the extreme cold. And she didn’t mean the weather.

  Logan’s parents? Colder and less malleable than glaciers. His father ignored him. Hadn’t spoken a word to him the entire weekend, as far as Min had seen. It was like each pretended the other didn’t exist. Only in public, at the party, had they stood alongside each other and smiled. But they’d never looked at each other.

  And his mother wasn’t much better—it was shallow pleasantries in clipped tones all the way. No wonder Logan felt so freaking cold.

  And now, she was doing the same, keeping the smile plastered on her face as she listened to Logan exchanging pleasantries with Keith, her mother’s latest boyfriend.

  There were photographers about. Even though the airport security people had put them into a private lounge, there were windows and two creeps with long lenses. Interest in Logan and her didn’t seem to be dying. As they’d walked through the concourse, those photographers had called for her to show the ring—they’d heard it was amazing. Granite-faced, Logan had tightened his grip on her hand, drawing her closer, hiding the ring.

  Finally it was time to board. She went into her mother’s embrace.

  “Don’t screw this one up,” her mother said, too loudly into her ear and then turned to hug her future son-in-law. “It was so lovely to meet you Logan. You won’t leave it too long before you bring Min to visit me, will you?”

  Min winced. Logan just smiled.

  “Mothers, huh?” Logan wrapped an arm ‘round her shoulder, drawing her in against him as the flight attendants started their safety checks. “I thought mine was bad enough. You never want to just tell her to back off?”

  “I’m not like you,” Min said, covering her sadness with a smile. “I can’t just c-cut people or things out of my life. She’s my mom. At the end of the day, I lo
ve her.”

  She wanted her to be happy. She wanted her to let Min herself be happy.

  Logan looked down to her hand, rubbed his thumb over the large diamond on her finger. “What doesn’t she want you to screw up?”

  Ugh, he’d heard that? “Our engagement.”

  “Why would she think you would?”

  Min’s body chilled. But she knew she ought to tell him. It was weird he hadn’t asked her already. “This isn’t the f-f-first time I’ve been engaged.”

  She felt him freeze as he absorbed her words.

  Then he looked at her, compelling, waiting until she glanced back up at him before he spoke. “Tell me about it.”

  “Don’t you know it all from the security file you have on m-me?” She looked back down at her nails, rubbing at a speck where the polish had chipped, hiding from the promise of trust in his eyes.

  “That only covered your education, where you worked, where you lived, whether you had a criminal record—”

  “So it didn’t detail my sex life?”

  He shook his head.

  “Thank g-goodness for small mercies. I feel so much less invaded now.”

  He chuckled, but soon became silent again. “Come on, tell me.”

  She hesitated, she’d never told anyone the humiliation that had caused her so much hurt. But this was the guy who’d confessed his worst to her yesterday. She ached to do the same—to have someone know, understand, empathize. She knew Logan would be that person for her, the one to listen without judgment. And help lift that old burden. “He wasn’t unlike you.”

  Logan adopted a fake outraged look. “So I’m just your usual type?”

  “Rich, spoilt...” she winked. Then shook her head and whispered. “He was nothing like you. Not in any way that really m-matters.”

  His expression softened, his fingers stroked over the back of her hand. “So what happened?”

  “My mother thought he was perfect,” she whispered. “For a while, so did I. We met at c-college. I thought he liked me.” She couldn’t believe it when he targeted her, the quiet one in the corner of the media studies class. “He was p-popular. Lots of friends. Total cool crowd, you know?”