Page 46 of Stitch & Steel
My whole body trembled as he spilled into me, hips grinding like he wanted to stay there forever.
He didn’t pull away, didn’t speak right away.
He just held me, breath hitching against my skin.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, legs still wrapped around him like I couldn’t let go.
Because I couldn’t.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
I was still throbbing from the first time—skin damp, thighs sticky, breath unsteady—when Logan rolled over, wrapped me in his arms like I belonged there, and murmured, “You’re safe, darlin’. Always will be.”
That rough, whiskey-warm voice of his made my stomach flip. But it wasn’t just his voice—it was the way he held me. The way he covered me like armor, like he was carved from iron and still soft enough to kiss me like I mattered.
“My men are out there,” he said into my hair. “Keeping a wide eye. Perimeter’s locked down. You’re mine tonight.”
That word—mine—did things to me I wasn’t ready to admit.
And when he slid his hand down my belly, slow and possessive, heat shot through me all over again.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he said roughly. “Not after that.”
I turned to him, heart pounding. “Then don’t stop.”
That’s all it took.
He flipped me onto my back and pinned my wrists above my head, eyes dark and hungry like a man starved. “Say it again,” he rasped.
“Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t.
His mouth crashed into mine, tasting like wild air and want. His teeth nipped my bottom lip, not enough to hurt—just enough to brand. His hand was already between my thighs, fingers slicking through what he’d left behind, smirking when he found me wet and wanting.
“Still soaked for me?” he growled, dragging the pads of his fingers right where I needed them most.
I gasped. “Yes.”
“Damn right you are.”
He slid two fingers inside, curling them just so, watching every reaction like he was memorizing my blueprint. “You got no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I whispered, arching into him.
Logan didn’t need a second invitation. He went down on me like he had something to prove. Tongue rough, then soft, then relentless. He sucked my clit like it was the only thing keeping him alive, growling low when I trembled under him, thighs squeezing tight.
“Come on, baby,” he said. “Give it to me.”
And I did.
With a loud cry and a body-shaking climax that had me biting my lip to keep from screaming his name loud enough for his men to hear.
But Logan wasn’t finished.
He rose over me, the muscles in his chest flexing, that thick cock of his glistening, proud, and ready for round two. He didn’t tease this time. Didn’t ease in slow. He pushed inside me in one thick stroke, groaning at the way I gripped him.
