Winter Ice (Storm for All Seasons 3)

She wasn't promiscuous. In fact, she could count on one hand--okay, three fingers--the number of men she'd been with sexually. The last one had been two years ago.

This wasn't just about having a sexy hunk of man fuck her until she screamed, although that would be a nice side benefit.

No, her relationship with Logan went way beyond the physical.

But right now, she craved the physical. And it was a place to start.

"Try me."

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Winter Ice

Chapter Five

Logan stilled at Sophie's words.

"You might not like it if I try you," he shot back, waiting for her to run, to shrug him off, do anything besides stand there with an eager expression on her face.

But God knew that was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to try her every way imaginable. His body ached to be inside her...now. No preliminaries, nothing else but sinking his already hard cock deep inside her tight cunt.

He balled his hands into fists, mentally tamping down the primal urges that compelled him to take her. Take what she so obviously offered, then walk away from her completely.

Treat her like shit, and discard her.

Dammit, he'd do exactly that.

He crushed her against him, watching as her eyes widened and she gasped, hoping he was frightening her and she'd run like hell. He tightened his arms around her back so she couldn't get away, then bent and took her full lips, thrusting his tongue inside her warm, wet mouth.

Any minute now she'd be revolted by his combination of passion and ice. He felt it coursing through him, the cold chill despite the feverish heat the touch of her lips gave him.

But she didn't run. She didn't try to get away. Instead, she whimpered into his mouth and wrapped her arms around him. Her breasts crushed against his chest and the points of her nipples scraped the thin material of his shirt.

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He moved her backwards, keeping his mouth fixed on her lips, tangling his tongue with hers. When he had her back against the paneled wall, he ground his hard-on between her legs.

She moaned and clutched his shoulders, licking at his tongue as if she were desperate for a taste of him.

Her heat overwhelmed him, ignited him, threatening to melt his protective iceberg.

That he couldn't allow.

A swirl of cold air encircled them. He'd warned her that she wouldn't be able to handle him unleashed. He had to freeze her now.

If only to protect himself from her fire.

Sophie tore her mouth away from his and leaned her head back, making eye contact.

"You can't chill me out, Logan. I'm on fire for you."

His breath came out in a rush when she palmed his erection, cupping him possessively and sliding her hand up and down over his hard cock.

"You're on fire, too," she whispered, rubbing her palm over his throbbing shaft.

"Don't you realize how connected we are? When you flame, Logan, I burn. Hot, like an inferno."

Ah, fuck it. He couldn't get rid of her no matter how hard he tried, and he no longer even wanted to try.

"Is this what you want?" He pushed away from her, ripping down the zipper of his pants and pulling out his shaft. He stroked it slow and easy, taunting her.

Her eyes darkened a deep purple and she licked her lips, a silent invitation.

An invitation he could no longer resist. He moved to the chair where he'd tossed his coat, folded it over and put it on the floor in front of him.

"Get on your knees and suck me, Sophie."

Her cheeks flushed and she dipped to her knees, reaching eagerly for his shaft.

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Winter Ice

Slipping her fingers underneath, she cupped his balls, cradling and massaging them lightly as she fit her lips around the swollen head of his cock. She kept her gaze focused on his face so that he could watch her.

Watching her lips close over his cock was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. He groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, finding the clip and releasing the dark waves that spilled into his hands.

"Like silk," he murmured, though he wasn't sure if he meant her long, glossy hair or the slippery tongue laving the side of his shaft.

She sucked him masterfully, taking him deep into the back of her throat, then teasing him by withdrawing and stroking him. When she licked the droplets from the tip, the milky fluid gathered on her tongue before she swallowed.

His gut clenched at the beauty of her mouth surrounding him. He could watch her do this to him for a very long time; could spend hour after hour letting her pleasure him and then taking his time to please her, too.

But this wasn't a relationship, he reminded himself. They weren't a couple, and he wanted nothing to do with her. Sophie and he were not meant to be together.

He was trying to drive her away, not think about how they could do this forever.

Quickly withdrawing from her mouth, he grabbed her hands, forcing her to stand.

"I wasn't finished," she said, her throaty voice filled with passion.

He didn't answer her, just tugged down on her skirt until it puddled on the floor.

She wore a flimsy scrap of material for panties, a golden, lacy thong that did little to hide her bare pussy.

The exotic perfume of her scent surrounded him, the sweet smell of her arousal like an aphrodisiac to his senses. He bent over and removed her panties, wanting, desperately to linger at her sex and taste her.

But he refused to allow the intimacy of pleasuring her that way. It was too...personal, and he needed to keep this as impersonal as he could. But damn, he 39

Jaci Burton

wanted to tease her a bit, take her sweet flavor on his tongue and drive her mad for hours. Instead, he stood and reached for her buttocks, grasping them in his hands and hoisting her up and against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the contact immediate and electric. Grinding his pelvis against her protruding clit, he thrust inside her pussy, drinking in her soft cries with a deep kiss.

Her tight cunt squeezed him, milked him, urged him to come hard and deep. A heady mix of patchouli and cinnamon washed over him as if she'd purposely released her scent. He drove harder this time, and her moans grew louder, her face flushing.

Pushing her back against the wall so he could free one hand, he jerked her top down and exposed her full breasts. Large, dark nipples pebbled under his searching gaze, and he couldn't resist dipping down and taking one tip in his mouth. He sucked it hard, pressing the nipple between the roof of his mouth and tongue.

The overpowering combination of her taste and scent drove him to fuck her harder, faster, deeper.

"Yes, Logan, fuck me like that," she cried, rocking her hot pussy against him, squeezing him with her tight muscles, pouring her juices all over his aching balls.

"You want more?" he asked, clenching his jaw tight, trying to hold back the impending torrent of come trying to release.

"Yes! Mon Dieu, yes! Give it to me, Logan! Now!"

He'd wanted this from the moment he'd seen her in the dark alley. Though he'd been fucking another woman that night, he'd wanted Sophie, imagined how hot and tight her cunt would be.

He was right. Her gravelly plea stripped away his control. He let some of the magic loose, holding a tight rein on the majority of its power. If he let it all go at once, neither of them would survive it.

The room covered in frost, ice pellets began to fall, and the water in the glasses around them froze solid.

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Winter Ice

A bitter wind blew through the ballroom, but did nothing to quench the heat that Sophie's body, her cries, her spasming cunt had fired up inside him.

Her orgasm tore through her and she screamed in ecstasy. Her body tensed, tightening, then quaking uncontrollably. Strange, unintelligible words spilled from her lips.

Suddenly, the ice melted around them, the water became liquid once again and the room dried and w

armed.

The heat surrounding Sophie was forced against him, within him, and a raging orgasm soared through him.

Shocked, he could only roar as his release took over. He drove hard one last time and spilled his seed deep in her core.

It wasn't until he could breathe again, until he could focus on the here and now, that he realized he hadn't worn a condom.

Fuck. Shit. Sonofabitch.

He never fucked a woman without wearing protection. Yet with Sophie, being skin to skin with her had seemed as natural as breathing.

She lifted her head, tangling her fingers in his hair. "It's all right," she whispered.

"You don't have to worry. We're both protected."

He didn't know how she was aware of his thoughts, and couldn't muster enough energy to ask. Nodding, he still felt more vulnerable than he wanted to, especially with her. The last thing he'd do is give her power over him.

Disentangling himself from her sweet, hot body, he retrieved her panties and while she dressed, righted his clothing. Now that he'd separated from her, whatever weird connection they had before dissipated, allowing him to recover his senses. He felt much more comfortable now that his protective outer shell was once more upon him.

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Anger filled him. Anger at himself for being weak where Sophie was concerned.

Anger at her for whatever magic she possessed, for weaving some kind of spell over him.

Logan was a born cold-hearted man. And he'd learned a long time ago, that the best defense was a good offense.

Releasing the knotted tie that seemed to choke him, he leered at Sophie, his gaze raking over her breasts and hips. "Great fuck, wasn't it?"

Her cheeks still flushed with passion, she blinked and shook her head. "Excuse me?"

"Sex, Sophie. It was great. You're good. Damn good. Thanks."

Regarding him warily, she stayed silent for a minute. No doubt trying to figure out a way to get out of the room with her dignity intact.

Ignoring the knot of guilt forming in his stomach, he firmed his mental resolve to treat her like a tramp, refusing to believe the shocked, innocent expression on her face.

"I don't understand, Logan. What we just did was..."

"Fucking great. I know. We do have chemistry. No denying that." Taking a quick glance at his watch, he grinned and asked, "Need help with that box?"

She looked confused. "Huh? Oh. Ohhh! I get it now! You're trying to brush me off.

To protect yourself."