“Yes, Logan.” She closed her eyes. “I was wet before you touched me with your mouth.”
“Open your eyes. Always look at me.”
She did, her lashes fluttering wide until she had nowhere to look but his intent blue stare.
“Good.” He breathed against her mound, and every nerve below her waist tensed, pooled hot with need. “Your kiss yesterday told me how hungry you are for satisfaction. I know you want it even now. Will you be brave enough to accept it?”
Oh, God. He’d read her like an open book. Tara drew in a deep breath. She had to do this. For Darcy and her own success as a field agent, she’d need to be able to perform any act asked of her. For herself, she needed to see if this time with Logan would patch up the empty, gaping hole of unfulfilled desire inside her.
“Yes, Logan.”
“Excellent.”
He didn’t hesitate for an instant before settling his mouth over her pu**y again and swiping his tongue underneath her clit, then over it, laving the little bud with almost more friction than she could take. But somehow, he knew exactly how far he could push her before the pleasure became too much. Logan backed away, blowing cool air over her slick, overheated folds, and rubbed his thumb over the needy bundle of nerves. Her entire body jerked and heat brewed between her trembling legs.
“Hmm, Cherry. You’re as sweet as I remember.” He brushed his tongue over her birthmark, the one inside her thigh that he’d been seemingly fascinated with at sixteen. “I’d love to spend a day with my mouth on your pu**y, lapping at you while you shiver and swell. And give me all that sweet cream. I want you to come. I want to stay at you until you shake and cry and beg, not sure if you want me to stop or taste that pretty cunt all over again.”
A big boom of desire dropped right between her legs, adding to the already torturous ache. How did he do that to her, so quickly and easily? Mere seconds, and she was panting. Arousal overtook her senses. No way she could pretend that she didn’t want every tingling bit of sin his deep voice promised.
“Logan . . .”
“I’m here, baby.”
Not a moment passed before he pried her open with his thumbs and stroked his tongue all the way from her seeping hole up, up, over the hard knot of her clit. Dizziness swept over Tara in waves, euphoric, surreal. God, at sixteen, he’d made her feel so good. Given her first orgasm ever with that patient, talented tongue. Then, it had taken time, and his endless little licks had built, finally escalating into something spectacular.
This orgasm was going to burst over her in a flash like a fireball of sensation. It would make every self-induced climax for the last dozen years feel like a lame joke. She clenched her fists. Climbing desire tightened her body until every muscle clenched. As wrong as Logan was for her, she needed this orgasm, and only he seemed able to give it to her.
Instead of pushing her over the edge, Logan sat back on his heels and looked up expectantly. What did he want from her? Tara clenched her fists above the unyielding manacles, dying a small death inside as she panted and writhed. “Logan . . .”
“Tell me you need it.”
Below the ridge of his dark brow, he stared at her with eyes like blue fire. His nostrils flared. His taut mouth twitched, as if lifting into a snarl, before he forced it back in line.
That expression said that he wanted her—badly. Worse, he looked willing to do anything to make her want him that badly in return.
But he didn’t have to try at all.
Tara’s shaky breath couldn’t quite fill her lungs. He was breaking her down, and somehow, being on this cross, at his mercy, stripped her bravado and revealed the woman beneath. Even if her mind shied away, her body craved it. Worse, no matter how badly he’d burned her before, some part of her trusted his strength, his tenacity, that searing desire all over his face.
“I—I need it,” she admitted.
From her knee, he smoothed his hand upward. Tara couldn’t take her eyes off the contrast of those strong, dark fingers against the pale flesh of her thigh. Her breathing hitched as his touch inched closer and closer to the burning ache in her pu**y.
He planted a soft kiss on her hip and teasing her clit with his thumb again. “Thank you for your honesty. Your body is so sweetly ripe. Flushed, wet, trembling. I can barely wait to get my mouth on you again.”
Tara cried out at his words. She couldn’t move much, but wriggled her hips, urging her pu**y closer to his waiting lips just a few inches away.
Logan inched back, then lifted his thumb off her aching clit.
“Please . . .” She was begging and she knew it. He knew it. Yet she’d never needed pleasure this desperately. Her body felt as if she’d been waiting for twelve cold years for him.
Slowly, he swiped his thumb, all but dripping with her cream, over his tongue. Then he closed his lips around the digit and sucked with closed eyes and a moan. “Fuck, yeah.”
The ecstasy prowling across his face aroused her even more.
Before she could take a breath, that thumb was back on her exposed, engorged nubbin, rubbing in slow circles. “You really need it, Cherry?”
“Yes!” she gasped, willing to say anything. She’d worry about repairing the damage to her pride and her engagement later.