Page 15 of My Perfect Valentine

“Kiss me.” I blurt the words out as soon as he decides for us to go the sweet route. I don’t want that. I want him. Even if it’s onlyfor tonight, it’ll be the best night of my life. Something I’ll hold on to forever.

Logan doesn’t need to be told twice. He rushes over, grabs me and yanks me to his chest and devours my mouth in a fluid movement. I’d swoon if he didn’t have such a hold on me.

His tongue duels with mine, and I can’t help but moan into his mouth. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and stand as high as I can on my tiptoes, but he’s a lot taller than me. I’m ready to climb him like a tree to get as close to him as possible. He must feel the same because one second I’m standing and the next he’s swooping me in his arms, bridal style.

I gasp and squeeze my arms tighter around him, but he doesn’t stop kissing me. He takes us to the couch and sits down while I rest in his lap and lean against his arm as he holds me up. Something pokes me in the ass, and I squirm. Logan groans into my mouth, and I smile and wiggle again. He gasps into my mouth, cupping my cheek and controlling more of the kiss.

I become lost in a daze as everything I feel, see, taste, and smell is all Logan and I never want this to end.

Needing more, I roam my hands over his shoulders and chest. My fingers dance along his sculpted frame and I imagine what he’ll look like with his shirt off. I’m obsessed with his arms. He wears tanks when he works out, so I’ve had many fantasies over them, but now the idea of having them all to myself to explore I want it desperately.

Pulling at his shirt, I move more on his lap, grinding down against his cock and we both moan, as I’m wet and ache for him in between my legs. I’ve only ever ached for this man, and now I’m here, touching him, him touching me. It’s surreal.

“What do you need, beauty?”

“Shirt off.” I pout, as I can’t get it to lift between us. He chuckles and moves a little so he can undo the buttons of his shirt, he’d already taken off his suit jacket before we went intothe diner, and I follow him trying to unbutton some myself but my fingers are not cooperating, they’re too excited about touching my dream man for real.

Logan scoots forward with me still in his lap and pulls his dress shirt from his pants and then within no time he’s in his undershirt that he pulls off over his head one handed. I gape. How do men do that? I’ve tried, and it turned into an embarrassment. I was thrilled nobody was around to witness.

I lick my lips and place my hands on his pecks and then roam them over his skin. Logan hisses and tenses. I lift my brow at him.

“I’ve imagined you touching me for so long. To have you do it now makes it impossible for me to stay in control.”

Smirking, and on a lust high, I drop my head and lick his nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans.

I giggle and swipe it again with my tongue, only to get thrown off him and onto my back on the couch. He lands on top of me, putting some of his weight on me, and I shiver.

“Where are we going from here, beauty?” He hovers over me like he’s doing a push up.

“Touch me.”

“How do you want me to touch you?” He bends his head close to mine and skims his nose and lips along my check and neck, never once touching me. Damn, that’s erotic.

“With your hands.”

“Like this.” He moves one hand and cups my cheek where he strokes it and he studies me adoringly. Like I’m a delicate glass rose that’s going to shatter.

I shake my head.

“No. Hmmm.” He moves his hand down along my neck and collarbone, tracing his finger against the neckline of my dress. “Like this.”

I shake my head.

“Hmmm.” He drops his hand to my chest and cups one breast and strokes his thumb over the nipple that is puckering hard and hurts a little at the constraints of all the padding, desperate for the touch of his skin.

I gasp.

“Ah, I think we have a winner.” He squeezes his hand on my breast and I breathe a little faster as I’m getting more turned on. Then he slides his hand from my breast, along my rounded belly, and I freeze, self-conscious.

Logan lifts his eyes to me and says, “You’re so fucking beautiful, with the curves of a proper woman. You’re so soft, and I can’t wait to get you out of this dress.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Logan’s brow lifts. “Are you sure?”

I nod.

---