Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“I’m glad you like it,” I said into her hair, taking in her lemon-verbena scent as I held her. My hands stayed splayed on her back, careful not to slip any lower.

“Like it? I love it!” She pulled back and took my cheeks in her hands. “Love it! Thank you!” She smacked a kiss on my lips.

Everything shifted.

Our expressions.

Our heartbeats.

Our boundaries.

Her smile faded, and her eyes widened—the pools of emerald sparking with surprise, then softening as she looked down at my lips.

“Delaney?” Her name was little more than a whisper. I needed to put her down. Needed to walk away. Needed to put as much distance between us as humanly possible. But none of that mattered when I weighed it against my need for her.

She didn’t answer me. Instead, our eyes locked, and she didn’t look away as she brought her mouth to mine again, kissing me gently.

Her eyes slid shut, and she did it again—and again.

Her mouth was velvet soft against mine, and I let my control slip as I sucked on her lower lip when she moved to retreat. I felt her gasp of surprise in my dick when I stroked my tongue over that lip, tasting the vanilla lip gloss she kept in her purse.

She kissed me again, and this time she raked her teeth over my lower lip.

I hissed, and her hands moved into my hair as the kiss deepened.

Deeper.

I needed to kiss her deeper. Needed my hands in her hair like I’d been fantasizing for the last six weeks. Taking four steps, we reached the wall, and the little reading ledge with its brightly colored pillows. It was too low for what I wanted.

I turned and sat on the ledge, then took her hips in my hands and brought her over my lap until she was straddling me, fluffy skirt and all. Then I kissed her exactly how I’d wanted to since that first night.

My hand sank into the silky strands of auburn as the other gripped her hip to keep her anchored and safe. I ran my tongue over the seam of her lips, and she whimpered, but still didn’t part them for me.

“Open for me,” I demanded in a growl.

She rolled her hips over mine, pressing her breasts against my chest, and gave me what I wanted.

My tongue sank into her mouth with deep, possessive strokes, tasting and testing, teasing and taking as I explored every line of her. She met me with equal need, her mouth driving me to take more as her tongue slid over mine again and again.

Her taste, her scent, her kiss—God, she was like nothing I’d ever had before.

My dick strained at the confines of my dress pants, hard and insistent. I broke the kiss and leaned back, but before I could get my mouth to say the words that would remind her why this was a bad idea, she slid a hand down my chest, gripped my tie, and pulled me back to her mouth.

Unmitigated, primal need shot down my spine and filled my veins, consuming my body in a sweep of lust that had me shifting my hand from her hip to her ass and pulling her tighter against me.

She gasped, then rocked against my cock, not losing a second between kisses. Fuck, she felt so damned good in my arms. Our mouths were greedy, taking each other voraciously until I nipped at her lower lip. Her hips jolted forward as she groaned.

My Delaney liked a little pain with her pleasure, did she? Fuck yes. I knew exactly where that edge was. Hell, I lived there, right between the two.

God, did she have any idea how well-matched we were?

My cock pulsed in time with my heartbeat as I kissed her throat, working my lips down to the little hollow and letting my tongue play.

Her hands locked behind my head, holding me to her as I flicked the first button of her sweater open with teeth and tongue. Then I abandoned the heaven of her hair and stroked the side of her ribs, my thumb grazing just under the swell of her breast.

Relentlessly she rocked against me, working me over without even stripping me down. It felt like a high school over-the-clothes make-out session, only hotter. So much hotter. I was going to combust at any minute if she didn’t ease up on me.

Another button. Then another.

Then a soft, blue, silk camisole surprised me with delight. What did she have under this? Was it a prim, modest bra? Was it lingerie? Either way, I wanted it gone. Just the thought of her skin against mine was enough to send my cock to another level of throbbing. Her nipples were pebbled, and she arched when I stroked the side of her breast with my thumb. She was so responsive, so honest in her reactions.