Belong to Me(50)

After a long minute, Logan edged his way in front of her and took her face in his hands. “You okay now, Cherry? Breathing and calm?”

“That’s it? You’re not going to let me come?”

With a shake of his head, Logan retrieved the silk robe and tossed at her. As she scrambled into it, he glanced at his watch. She couldn’t miss his tense shoulders and the sizeable erection behind his zipper.

“Training isn’t always going to feel good. It’s seventeen hundred. Go home. No masturbating or I’ll know, and your ass will be redder than . . . well, a cherry. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” He shifted his gaze to Xander. “Don’t piss me off.”

His exotic friend held up a hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it. We’ll talk when you’re out of the shower.”

“Fucker,” Logan muttered, then hurried toward the door.

No way was she letting him leave her like this.

Fuming and aching all over, Tara charged after him and grabbed his granite arm. “What the hell kind of power trip is this?”

He raised an ominous brow at her. “I explained.”

“I heard a lot of blah, blah, blah. Haven’t you taken enough from me today? I lost my fiancé. God knows, you quickly stripped me of dignity. Because of you, I have no privacy. You don’t allow me modesty. You shove everything on me. This is just about you having your sick pleasure, bending me—”

“Ohhh.” Xander shook his head at her. “I’d run if I were you.”

Tara stood her ground, tightening her grip on Logan’s biceps. “I’m not going anywhere until he explains what the f**k he’s trying to pull.”

“I explained.” Logan enunciated each syllable with quiet bite. “You heard me. But that’s not what you’re pissed about. You’re angry because I’m withholding this.”

Before Tara could even blink, Logan scooped her up in his arms and stalked toward the bed, jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body felt tense. She had a feeling that she’d awakened the sleeping beast.

Her heart seized up in her chest. “Put me down!”

“You don’t give the orders, Cherry.” With that reminder, Logan plopped down on the bed, then turned her to face him, shoving her legs on either side of her hips. “I do. If you want this, scoot in.”

She had no idea what he was up to, but the opportunity to be closer to him was a lure she knew she should resist, but couldn’t. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she moved her hips closer until her wet folds were nestled against the hard ridge of his cock.

“Wrap your arms around my neck.”

Breath coming in pants, she slid her palms over his hard shoulders, then curled her arms around his nape. Their faces were inches apart, and the heat blaring from his eyes blasted her with something that made her stomach tighten, her pu**y clench.

“What’s you’re safe word?” he barked.

“R-Romeo.”

“Yes. Either use it or rub that pretty pu**y over my c**k until you come.”

Oh God, his actions became crystal clear in a second. He was forcing her to either deny that she wanted him or to use him to pleasure herself. No matter what she did, she was going to lose.

God damn it, wasn’t that a metaphor for her whole relationship with Logan?

“Bastard,” she hissed.

“Choose, Cherry. You’ve got three seconds.”

Fury and desire had whipped her into a froth. She wanted him so badly that she hated him. But he’d always been like gravity for her; the pull to him was undeniable and inevitable.

Tara slanted her mouth over his and took his lips in a fierce kiss, rocking her aching clit directly over the thick stalk of his cock. She gasped into his mouth as need streamed through her body, lacing her veins. Logan met her tongue with his, fisting one hand in her hair.

She writhed like a wild thing, panting, straining, needing everything he could give her. And it wasn’t enough yet. Mewling, she clawed at his back, desperate for the orgasm beckoning with frightening intensity just out of reach.

Suddenly, he ripped away from her kiss. “You want to come?”