Page 65 of Snared Rider

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he tells me, and I can’t help but think the same about him.

Then his hand goes between my legs and I’m lost.

My vision blurs as his fingers hook my knickers aside and he pushes one digit inside me.

Oh, fuck.

I close my eyes and tip my head back as he massages the sensitive nub between my legs with his thumb even as he slides his finger in and out of me.

“Logan…” I gasp his name, my back arching.

He lifts my legs, and I wrap them around his waist. He continues to kiss me as he carries me to the bed, gently laying me among the blankets and pillows.

Then he straddles me, sliding the straps of my bra off my shoulders, freeing my other breast from its cup. I watch, mesmerised, as he leans down to lick one of my nipples. I can’t stop from writhing beneath him. It feels amazing. So good, I see stars.

“I love you, Logan.”

The words slip out before I can censor myself, and I cringe as soon as I say them. Fuck. It’s too soon.

Logan freezes, then pushes up, coming off me a little. Oh god. Why did I say that?

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I shouldn’t have said it.”

I try to move from under him as tears burn my eyes, threatening to fall. Humiliation taunts me.

“Logan, let me up.”

He doesn’t. “You love me?”

“I—” I stop speaking because I can’t lie; I do love him, but I don’t want to freak him out either.

“Beth? You love me?”

I stare into his liquid brown eyes. I should lie; I should protect myself, but I can’t deny what I feel. And I don’t want to.

“Yes,” I whisper.

The seconds drag on and the silence is excruciating. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Then Logan dips his head towards mine, presses his lips against my forehead and says, “I love you more.”

And he shows me exactly how much he loves me by worshipping my body for the next hour.

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