Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“Connell is nothing like…my ex,” I said.

“But you do have a certain hatred for the type,” he pressed.

I chewed on my bottom lip. “I can’t help it,” I admitted. “My ex and his friends, they ruined me for the type. But,” I sighed. “Connell has done wonders to help erase some of the stigma.”

“He’s engaged.”

I gaped at Logan as he pulled into his driveway. “Are you jealous?”

He killed the ignition, hurrying around the car before I could reach for my door. “Not at all,” he said, helping me out of the car and leading me into his house.

“Scots aren’t really my thing,” I said as he shut the front door behind us.

He dropped his keys at the end table he had in his entryway, and slipped off his suit jacket, tossing it over the stair banister as he reached for his tie. “What is your thing, Delaney?”

We’d been sleeping together for a couple weeks and I could never get enough of this incredible man. Logan had become important in more ways than the friendship that had blossomed into something more.

“You,” I said with a simple honesty that felt almost raw against my throat. “You are in all ways my thing.” I reached out a hand toward him. “Can I show you?”

A warm thrill fluttered the length of my spine as he slipped his hand in mine.

“Show me what?” he asked as I led him toward his bedroom.

As I made it closer to his bedroom, I dropped his hand and lost a piece of clothing—first my pumps, then my dress. And by the time I’d reached the edge of his four-poster bed, I was in nothing but my thigh-highs, lace panties, and matching strapless bra. A low growl rumbled from Logan’s chest as he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it and his dress pants on the floor before he reached me.

He stood only a breath away, but didn’t touch me, electing to trail that dark gaze over my body instead. I felt it like a brand, and an ache throbbed between my thighs.

“What do you want to show me, Delaney?” Logan’s voice was rough, primal, and he grazed just the tip of his finger down the center of my chest, between my cleavage, over my belly button, and stopped at the hem of lace covering my center.

I arched into his touch, every inch of me burning for him.

“Hmm?” he murmured, trailing his nose down the seam of my neck, inhaling like he could drink me in.

My chest rose and fell, my muscles damn near trembling. “I want to show you how much you mean to me,” I said, and motioned my head toward the bed.

A wicked grin shaped his lips as he sank onto the bed.

I dropped to my knees before him, smoothing my hands up his strong thighs until I’d hooked my fingers into the band of his boxer-briefs and tugged them down, tossing them behind me. The beautiful, full length of him sprang free, and nothing but molten desire tunneled through my soul.

My body shivered in anticipation as I kissed his muscled chest, then worked my way lower, until my warm breath teased the head of his cock.

“Delaney.” My name was half growl, half whisper.

And I flicked my gaze upward, smiling at him before dropping my mouth to take him inside me in one, fast motion.

So fast he jolted underneath me, a hiss of pleasure sizzling through his lips. “Fuck.”

I took him deeper inside my mouth, swirling my tongue over his swollen head.

“Goddamn,” he growled, his fingers sliding into my hair, gripping it with enough of a bite that I moaned around his hard length. His thighs flexed beneath me as I gently braced my forearms there, getting a better angle to grip his shaft as I ferociously teased his head.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, hips thrusting upward slightly. “Let me get inside you.”

“Patience,” I teased and lightly grazed my teeth along the length of him. Then I licked him from base to tip, relishing his taste as he filled me so completely.

This was desire and need in its purest form.

I wanted to devour him, own him, and submit to him all at once.

But mostly, I just wanted him to know how fucking much I cared about him.

So I sucked and swirled and stroked him until he hardened another degree in my mouth. Until I flicked my gaze up to his dark eyes and saw the struggle there—the battle between release and wanting this to last forever.

I gave one last hard suck, his cock springing free of my mouth with a little pop, and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. I rolled it over his thick length and straddled him before he could blink. I slipped my lace to the side, no time to shed my thigh highs and undergarments as I ached with need for him. His hands gripped my hips, our foreheads nearly touching as I sank down atop him inch by sweet inch.