Page 62 of Unspoken

I nod, unable to talk as I continue to worship his dick. He moves faster, fucking my face with a savage rhythm.

"Touch yourself," he orders. "Make it rain for me."

I wrap my hand around my throbbing cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. It takes only a few strokes before I'm hurtling toward the edge, my entire body shuddering as I surrender to the bliss.

"Yes, that's right. Come for me," Logan growls, his movements growing erratic as he nears his own climax. And with a final, desperate guttural sound, I do. My release spills over my hand in thick, hot ribbons.

Logan follows suit. His entire body is jerking while his cum is filling my mouth, sweet and sour and warm like fresh milk. I choke on the fluid, some of it escaping down my chin and onto my chest. He pulls out, his breathing heavy and labored; eyes dark with satisfaction when I glance up at him through my lashes, wanting to make sure what I did was good.

"Fucking beautiful," he whispers, tracing a finger along the trail of cum on my chin.

It’s too much, I realize.

My head drops between his thighs, tears streaming from my eyes—not just from the intensity of the experience but from the feeling of fulfillment that I've never known before.

My chest heaves, each inhale a true struggle. I can hear Logan's own ragged breathing as he reaches out to grab a napkin from the holder on the nightstand. He cradles my chin and wipes leftovers of the cum from my face with tenderness that’s the exact opposite of what we did a few minutes ago. He discards the napkin and skims his fingers through my hair, whispering soothing words. We remain like this for a while with me sittingbetween his legs, on the floor, naked, until our bodies and minds settle and until we’re able to move to lie on the bed.

The room seems to glow with light that has nothing to do with the single flickering lamp.

"Are you okay?" Logan asks softly after a while, his voice a blend of concern and affection.

"Far from okay," I admit, the words catching in my throat. "I've never come so hard in my life."

Logan lets out a soft chuckle, his body shaking with it. "Was it too much for you?"

"Are you kidding?" I laugh, the sound brittle from all the face-fucking, brittle but genuine. "I want more."

"Later," he promises, his lips brushing against my forehead. "Right now, we need to rest."

We get under the blankets, our bodies still entangled like vines around the old castle. My head rests on Logan's chest and I listen to his heartbeat, a steady drumbeat that lulls me into a sense of peace I've never experienced before.

As sleep begins to claim me, my mind fills with dreams of a future where I can be free to see Logan openly. I cling to that hope that together, we can conquer the darkness that surrounds us, banishing the shadows of fear and doubt that have haunted me for so long.

My eyes flutter open and I scan my surroundings. The first light of morning seeps around the edges of the heavy curtains, creating a yellow glow across the room. My heart slams against my rib cage as panic begins to course through my bloodstream. I become acutely aware of the danger I've put Logan and myself in.

I didn’t mean to sleep through the night. I was supposed to return home to make sure Ivan or Vlad’s goons wouldn’t report my absence to him.

I fucked up.

"Shit!" The curse escapes me in a breathless whisper, barely audible above the pounding in my chest.

I push myself off the pillow and glance down at Logan’s body sprawled on the bed next to mine. For a second, the image of him, all ink and muscle and masculinity has me forgetting about the consequences, but then this daze is over quickly. There’s no time for it. Not now.

Carefully, I sling my legs over the bed’s edge and survey the room for my phone. It’s on the floor, next to the heap of clothes. I grab it with the intention of turning the silent mode off. But the phone's screen is lit up with missed calls and messages from Vlad. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me he’s aware I'm not at home, and I start to wonder if he knows where I am and who I'm with.

"Logan." I nudge him gently, unable to tear my eyes away from the frantic texts that scream for my attention. "Logan, wake up."

His eyes snap open, instantly locking onto my face, before he checks the room. He must sense the distress radiating off me, because his expression shifts from drowsy to alert in an instant.

"Vlad's back," I choke out in a trembling voice. "He's been looking for me and he sounds pissed. According to his texts. What if he knows about us, Logan?"

"Hey, hey," Logan murmurs, sitting up and placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. His touch feels like an anchor in the storm raging inside. "It's not possible, Sasha. I made sure we had no tail. Let's just calm down and figure this out together, alright?"

But even with Logan's support, the ice-cold grip of fear refuses to loosen its hold on me. All I can think about is the violent retribution that awaits us if Vlad discovers the truth about the nature of our relationship. And as much as I want to believe Logan's words, I can't shake the nagging doubt that claws at the back of my mind.

"Logan," I whisper, my voice laced with desperation. "What are we going to do?"

"We’re going to play it by ear," he says calmly, but the small crack in his stoic expression betrays his own panic.

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