Page 56 of Catnip, Claws, and Chaos

“Fuck me, Logan,” I beg, not caring about pride anymore. “I need you to take me now.”

He responds right away. Taking his finger out, he grabs my panties’ waistband, the last thing between us. I jump at the sudden ripping sound as he tears them off with impatient hands.

“I liked those panties,” I protest, out of breath.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he promises, positioning himself above me.

Our eyes lock as I reach between us to grab his cock, guiding him to my entrance. There’s a moment of resistance before he fills me completely, stretching me in ways that make me gasp. My eyes start to close as he moves, each thrust pulling sounds from me I barely recognize.

“Don’t close them,” he orders. “I want to look into your eyes when you come.”

I obey, meeting his gaze without hesitation. This eye contact during our most intimate moment, while he’s deep inside me and I’m tight around him, scares the hell out of me with how intense it is. He’s looking right into my soul, seeing every feeling I tried to hide from him and myself. It’s overwhelming, but I can’t look away.

His rhythm changes, slowing to something more deliberate, more intense. Each thrust feels purposeful, as if he’s trying to say something his words can’t express. His hands cradle my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks with surprising tenderness. The contrast between the gentleness of his touch and the power of his body moving inside mine breaks something open in my chest.

“Emily.” He breathes my name as if it’s something sacred, something precious.

I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, wanting more of this connection that feels dangerously like something beyond just physical need. His forehead presses against mine, our breath mingling as we move together.

“Logan!” His name rips from my throat as the pressure builds beyond what I can take before shattering in a flood of pleasure so intense tears spring to my eyes.

“Come, Emily. Come with me.” His voice is strained as his rhythm speeds up, chasing his own release.

I moan as aftershocks ripple through me, waves of pleasure crashing over and over. Even though I try to keep my eyesopen, my vision goes blurry as I call his name again and again, half prayer, half desperate begging. He drives into me a few more times before stiffening above me, his face transformed as he comes. His hot release fills me and triggers another wave of pleasure through my super-sensitive body.

We stay frozen for several heartbeats, breathing hard, with our bodies still joined, before Logan rolls beside me. His absence leaves me feeling weirdly empty. But before I can dwell on that feeling, his arms encircle me, one hand splayed across my stomach, the other pillowing my head.

“Logan,” I venture after a while, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are we doing?”

His hand stills for a moment, then resumes its gentle exploration. “Right now? We’re lying in bed together.”

I snort. “You know what I mean.”

He sighs, his breath warm against my neck. “I don’t have a good answer for you.”

“I’m not asking for promises or labels,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual even as my heart races. “I just want to understand... this.” I gesture vaguely between us.

“This is...” He pauses, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he searches for the right words. “Complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” I turn in his arms to face him. “We’re adults. We can figure this out.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is.” I place my hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. “Maybe we’re the ones making it complicated.”

Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the edges. “Maybe,” he concedes, though I can tell he’s not entirely convinced.

Before I can press further, he pulls me closer and kisses me again, this time with a gentleness that makes my toes curl. It’s different from the desperate hunger of before. It’s slower, deeper, and more deliberate. Like he’s taking his time to learn me, to memorize the shape of my lips, the taste of my mouth.

When we break apart, both breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s just... be here. Right now. Can that be enough for tonight?”

Part of me wants to argue, to demand more clarity, more certainty. But another part that’s still buzzing with the afterglow of what we just shared is willing to accept this moment for what it is.

“Okay,” I whisper, settling back against him. “For tonight.”

He presses a kiss to my shoulder, tightening his arm around my waist. “Thank you.”

There’s so much we need to talk about, how he acted all week, what this means for us, where we go from here, but as he holds me close, all that stuff can wait till morning. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his breathing slow down and his heartbeat steady under my ear.

---