“I’m on the pill,” she whispered.
His heart actually missed a beat. “I haven’t had sex without a condom since my wife.”
She stared into his eyes for a moment, assessing him, reading something there that only she understood. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “I want you now.”
“Are you sure?”
She didn’t answer him with words. Instead, she pulled his head down and kissed him, slowly, deeply, determinedly. Logan didn’t ask her again—his Agnes knew her own mind. Slowly, he slid a hand between them to help guide himself into her.
His head fell back at the sensation of her wet heat surrounding him. He groaned to the ceiling as he slowly, deliberately pressed deeper. Tighter than a fist, she grasped him and pulled him further into her.
A small squeak brought his head jerking back down, assessing if she was okay, ensuring he hadn’t hurt her in any way. He wanted only pleasure for his Agnes. But rather than pain, he saw ecstasy. Her mouth was open, her head angled back—she was glorious. Her eyes burned into his as she grasped his backside and tugged him closer.
And Logan took that as his cue. He surged deep inside of her, joining them completely. Listening to their moans mingle in the air around them, he breathed deep of their combined scent—sweetness and spice. He stilled, arms taut, holding his weight as he hovered above her, making the moment last so he would never forget a second of it. He shifted his weight to one arm so he could cup her cheek with the other, leaning in to take her mouth in a long, sensual kiss. Then slowly, deliberately, his hips began to move as his lips stole the gasps and moans he elicited from Agnes. It was an excruciating pleasure.
“Faster, please,” she begged against his mouth, her voice breathless and needy.
He didn’t hesitate to give her what she wanted, holding her gaze as he did so, never once letting her look away. Wanting to see all of her as they soared together.
His.
She was his.
For now, anyway.
With each surge inside her, Logan lost a little more of himself to the woman in his arms. Together, their breathing became more labored. Together, they clung to each other. Together, they pushed each other higher. Until, with one glorious thrust, his body tightened, his blood boiled
and his thoughts turned to white noise. Nothing existed but Agnes. And together, they broke apart in each other’s arms.
Chapter 15
The weight of Logan’s body pressed Agnes deep into the bed, and she clung to him like an anchor in a storm as the room whirled around them. All she could hear was their heavy breathing and the rapid beating of her heart. Her body was boneless and, for the first time in years, her brain had fallen silent. It was blissful.
Her hands gently caressed his back, his shoulders, his arms, as she floated on a cloud of peace. He started to move away from her, but she held him tight.
“Stay,” she groggily ordered.
“I’m too heavy for you,” he protested.
“Stay.” She made it a command.
He settled in over her, giving her his weight, making her feel secure. She lay there, riding the high of their lovemaking and delighting in her completely relaxed state of body and mind.
Until the buzz began to fade and reality encroached.
As much as she fought it off, it still destroyed her languid peace, and her body tensed.
Logan lifted his head. “What’s wrong?”
Of course, he’d noticed. He was lying on top of her after the best sex she’d ever had. The realization sent a spike of panic through her veins. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She shoved at his shoulders, and he instantly moved from her.
“Agnes, tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was steady, in control, a lifeline if she wanted to reach for it.
But it was too late—she was already drowning. As she scrambled from the bed, she picked up her suit jacket and held it in front of her, covering what she could.
“You need to leave,” she said. “Now.”
The tears were already nipping at her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry in front of him. She never cried in front of anyone. Ever.