Page 10 of Mine

“Fuck, Lena. You’re soaked.” He starts moving his fingers inside me and leans down once again to kiss me. I lift my hips off the mattress and reach out, grabbing fistfuls of bedsheets. Sliding his tongue across my skin, I gasp. Being with Logan like this has only made my love for him grow.

His tongue continues to lap against me. He reaches up, grabbing my breast. His fingers brush against my hardened nipple. A tingling sensation moves down my body to where Logan is between my legs.

“Logan, please,” I beg him, lifting my legs, wrapping them around his shoulders, fighting the urge to keep him pressed between my legs. I want him to move so he’s inside me but I want him to keep going all at the same time.

Before pulling away, Logan gently bites against me. I hiss, reveling in the pleasurable sting.

Logan rises, still kneeled on the bed. His stare is intense as he watches me. “I still can’t believe you’re my wife.”

I can see the outline of his erection in his black slacks, the appearance of how I look clearly affecting him. My eyes trail back up, landing on his. “And I can’t believe you’re my husband.”

I sit up far enough to start unbuckling his pants as he unbuttons his chef jacket. Beneath his jacket is a plain white T-shirt. I pout, my lips still swollen from Logan’s kisses in the hallway.

Logan pauses and looks down as he holds the hem of his shirt. “What’s wrong?”

I smirk, feeling my warm lips spread out into a grin. “Nothing’s wrong.” I scoot forward and place my hands over his, quickly starting to lift it over the toned muscle beneath it. “There’s just too many layers. Close the space between us.”

Logan gives me a devilish grin before placing his hands on my bent knees, pressing his fingertips against them. The sunlight pours in between the curtains, highlighting every line and ridge of Logan’s defined body. I run my fingertips across his abs then wrap my hands around his waist pulling him closer. His skin is peppered with goose bumps as he leans forward, crashing his lips against mine.

“I want you inside me. Now.” I’m begging again, but I can’t help it.

He wraps his arm around my waist, moving us backward so I’m leaning against the fabric of our cushioned headboard. I’m practically sitting upright, my breasts on full display and my knees spread apart. Grabbing on to my ankle, Logan lifts my leg over his shoulder, positioning himself at my entrance.

I gasp, tipping my chin up and pressing my head back into the headboard as Logan pushes inside me. His mouth lands on my exposed neck and the feeling is overwhelming in the best way. Logan has always been the more commanding one when it comes to sex.

In the years I was with Julian, he always made it a point to let me know who was in charge. He was forceful and when he would demand for me to look him in the eye, there was always a storm cloud brewing behind his green eyes. There was something sinister swirling inside them and I knew for Julian is was more about control than it was about us being together.

With Logan, his command is different. Behind every word, every touch, and every kiss there’s desire and love behind it. Logan always takes control without making me feel like I have no control.

Logan continues to move inside me, completely filling me again before pulling back out, repeating the same process. A few months back, I had started taking birth control, knowing that if the threat of Julian still existed, there was no way Logan and I would be comfortable having children until we knew we were absolutely safe.

We weren’t sure when that day would come, or even if it would come at all. We just knew now wasn’t the time.

Logan’s movements pick up. My back presses against the headboard several times. I grip the ends of his hair as he bends down, biting down on the flesh of my breast. Taking my nipple in his mouth, he sucks on the hardened pebble, rolling his tongue across my skin. I gasp as Logan pushes into me one more time before I begin unraveling beneath him. It’s moments like these where Logan takes extra care to remind me how happy he is to be married to me, that I remember how our love runs deeper than any love I’ve ever known.

Once Logan follows with his own release, I slide my back down the headboard. My head gently falls against the pillow as Logan wraps his arms around me, resting his head on my chest. My heart beats heavily beneath my chest. I reach up, running my fingers through Logan’s now dampened hair. He’s growing it out and I smile, loving the feeling it gives me knowing he feels comfortable letting it go back to the way it used to be.

“I love your hair like this.” It’s the first words I’ve spoken since before Logan made love to me.

Logan lets out a choked laugh and I can feel his grin spread out across my bare chest. “I do, too.”

Five

Lena

Ichose the table in the back corner, closest to the barista making the fifth cappuccino I’ve seen him pour since I sat down. The loud gurgling of foaming milk drowns out the hushed chatter of other customers. It’s odd to think how comforting the sounds of a coffee shop can be. The random piano music playing in the background. The occasional screech of a wooden chair sliding against the dulled tile floor. Even the smell is comforting, taking me back to the days when I would go to the coffee shop around the corner from my dorm back in Providence.

It’s been nearly thirty minutes since I left Logan at the house. I didn’t want to leave him. His body was warm, pressed against mine. His head rested against my pounding chest. All of it was nearly enough reason for me to consider rescheduling my meeting with my new client. But when Logan sat up and I looked at the time, I knew it would be bad business if I didn’t keep my appointment.

Begrudgingly, I’d quickly gotten dressed and headed out the door, my thighs still aching from having Logan between them. There’s still a warmth resonating over my body as I patiently wait for my new client. I’d almost felt as if today were a new day. I wasn’t sure if it was the tearing down of the shed, or if it was Logan’s attempt at making up for being late. Either way, I had started to feel the hole inside my chest beginning to fill. However temporary it may be.

Looking at the time once more, I push the thoughts of Logan aside and focus on my work.

My laptop is open to my design software. Beside it is my spiral notebook, open to a blank page. I click my favorite pen, adding it to the myriad of sounds flooding the coffee shop. I take another sip of my caramel latte, checking the time on my phone.

The still hot coffee pours down my throat. Over the top of my cup, I spot a woman walking in my direction. The sight of her is enough to make me nearly spit my coffee out, sputtering the hot liquid all over my laptop and notebook.

She grows closer, her deep purple lipped smile beaming from ear to ear. Her familiar shade of silver hair reflects against the golden lights of the coffee shop.

---