Page 50 of Consuming Logan

“That’s it, sweetheart. I want you dripping wet when I take you.”

“Me too,” she panted. “Logan, please,” she heard the edge of desperation in her voice. She begged him to split her wide, and plant himself so deep, that they tangled like the fine hairs covering his chest. Maybe she gave too much. Isn’t that what a woman did for the man she trusted with her love? When it came to Logan, none of the other reasons mattered.

“You feel me, Ava mine. Say it.”

He would always protect her. With him, love transferred with every look, every touch, every word. Logan mastered her body to the point that she was addicted to his touch, to his voice.

“I do,” she whimpered. The pleasure he coaxed from her body could be deemed criminal activity.

“Now you’re ready.”

Logan’s head disappeared between her quivering thighs. He latched onto and tongued her clit and she lurched into his mouth. He held on. Tonguing, sucking, teasing, nipping, soothing her pleasure center until she was mindless and lost in ecstasy.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t…ever…stop.”

Emotions soared. Love. Lust. Passion. Possession.

“Never stop,” he growled. “Lost without…you.”

She cried for more. She screamed for mercy.

The tension built. Muscles clenched. Spasms racked her limbs. Her moans climbed, and his groans roughed. She tittered on the edge of orgasm, and then he stroked one damp digit over her forbidden rosebud, and she toppled right over the cliff into rapture.

“Logan,” she screamed, and cried his name. He remained relentless in his pursuit.

Suddenly, Logan shoved her legs farther apart, and impaled her slick heat on his steely erection.

“Damn, Ava,” he groaned. “So tight.”

“Oh, my,” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

He didn’t give her a chance to adjust to his girth. He thrust deep, over and over. His power and size dwarfing her ability to regroup.

“Let go,” he demanded, pulling her upright. “Ride,” he growled.”

Sensation bombarded her. “Yes. Yes,” she sobbed or maybe begged.

Ava felt Logan everywhere. In her head. In her heart. In the deepest part of her.

Logan powered into her harder, faster, deeper. “I’m coming. Come with me.”

The clang on utensils banging together in the drawers added to their escalating groans and echoes of pleasure. And then Logan, slammed in her, burying himself deep. His hold suspended them in a moment, robbed her of time, lost her in space. Under the onslaught of pleasure and pain, she broke.

“I love you,” she bellowed.

Logan stole every doubt, every barrier, every insecurity, until she cracked open. Everything in her illuminated in his light, his love for her.

Chapter 18

Logan and Ava lay in bed, slack and satiated in their post-sex haze. His conscience continued to pile on the guilt. Ava deserved the truth about Brooke and the baby. Outside the window, the sun catcher fashioned into a blue and gold replica of the Navy Nurse Corps Oak Leaf insignia swayed in the breeze like two lovers in the night. The landscaping lights served as a flameless candle, bathing their tangled limbs in a warm glow. This once masculine suite with its massive oak and leather bed had lost its earth tone comforter. In its place, Ava had purchased a diamond quilted white coverlet with blue anchors. Sheepskin rugs complimented the dark hardwood floors. This room smelled like his Ava-vanilla, warmed spice, and love. Home. Logan smiled every time he walked in their sanctuary.

There were little touches of Ava everywhere in his home and in his life. To an onlooker, him being a doctor, his family name, and his wealth made it appear as if Ava had gained the world through him. But in reality, having her here made Logan wealthy beyond measure. The love and trust of this woman had changed him from a workaholic to a man looking forward to a future filled with love, laughter, and a child. Reclined with a pillow behind his head, Logan enjoyed the feel of his woman’s naked body, against his. Glancing down, he just watched Ava resting quietly. She shifted, bringing her tight and toned bottom in contact with his groin. No question he’d satisfied her sexual appetite, but she looked pensive.

“It smells like sex in here,” she murmured.

He dropped a kiss to her temple. “Wrong. It smells like great sex. I should bottle your scent.”

“Yes,” she cooed. “Naked sex goddess…I like it. You think it’ll sell?” she mused, a hint of amusement in her voice.