Chapter 166: Maddening Restraint
The bra joins my shirt on the floor. Logan’s gaze is hungry as it roves over my bare chest, but his hands stay firmly planted on either side of me. His restraint is maddening.
I reach for him, but he catches my wrists, pinning them gently to the mattress.
"I’m not done yet."
I pout. "At this rate, we’ll be here all night."
"That’s the idea."
But we have food on the way...
Looks like he forgot.
He releases my wrists to trace the waistband of my jeans, the movement casual, almost thoughtful. The slow drag of his fingertips against my skin makes my stomach muscles clench as heat blooms under his touch.
I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing, to not show just how much his torturous pace is affecting me. I’m really in the mood for a wham and a bam and then filling my belly afterward, and he’s over here preparing for a marathon.
We. Have. Food. On. The. Way.
Did he really forget?
"Look at me," he commands, his fingers all sensual and delicate as they tug down on my shorts.
I shake my head, and he chuckles.
Finally, I pry on eye open, watching him watch me.
The intensity of his gaze makes me feel more naked than the actual undressing, and I wonder if it’s always going to feel this way. This new and explosive and exciting.
Or will our sex eventually become boring and mundane?
"Lift up."
I raise my hips, and he tugs my shorts down with sudden efficiency. I kick them off once they reach my ankles, realizing he’s taking my panties down with them.
My heart rate kicks up a notch. Looks like I’m getting the wham and the bam after all.
His eyes darken as they track over my body, lingering at the curve of my hip, the hollow between my breasts. A flush spreads across my skin under his scrutiny.
But he doesn’t do anything.
"Now what?" I ask, when the silence becomes too much.
Logan leans down, his face hovering inches above mine. "Now I remind you that there is no David or Dev or anyone else who matters." His lips brush my ear. "Just us."
My eyes narrow. "Seriously? I forgot about Dev ages ago. Are you back on that?"
"Shh."
His mouth captures mine in a kiss both possessive and devastating, stealing the breath from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. There’s nothing playful about it, and he lifts one hand to the back of my head to clench in my hair and pull my head into a better angle.
The faint pain in my scalp is hot, but I bite at his wandering tongue to punish him for it.
When he pulls back, his eyes have gone from green to mostly gold.
"Say it," he growls.
I blink. "Say what?"
His lips turn down, and I finally remember—right. He keeps bringing up Dev.
The man’s jealous over nothing, but holding onto it like it’s everything.
I roll my eyes, and he jerks my head back by my hair with a soft growl. Fuck. His jealousy was mildly amusing and slightly irritating, but now my thighs clench as warmth bursts down below.
Now it’s sexy.
"There’s no one else," I whisper.
My fingers trail down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm. Logan may be the alpha, may be the one with supernatural strength and centuries of experience, but in this moment? With his pulse racing under my touch and his eyes fixed on me like I’m the only thing in his universe?
I’m definitely in charge.
My fingers go lower, claiming power, owning this moment—
Until he flips me over with inhuman speed and proves I’m definitely not the one in charge. At all.
I gasp face-down into the mattress as Logan looms over my back, his weight a delicious pressure pinning me down. His teeth find my shoulder, hard and almost painful as he bites down.
My hips buck involuntarily.
Biting should definitely not be a thing. That goes straight to vampire kink, as far as I’m concerned. But every time he does it, my pussy floods and my mind goes blank.
Fuck, why is it so hot?
"Food’s on the way," he murmurs against my skin, hot breath making me shiver. "Better make this quick."
Oh. He didn’t forget after all.
But I... might have. For a teeny tiny moment.
Oops.
I push my hips back against him, desperate for friction. "Then hurry the hell up."
"Hold on." His voice drops, vibrating through my bones with promise.
His fingers slide between my thighs, finding me embarrassingly wet already. He rubs slow circles against my slick folds, and I can’t help the humming sound escaping from the back of my throat. Fuck, his touch is electric, but it’s not enough.
My entire body’s clenched and tight, desperate for more. Needing to be ruined in the most delicious way. Every touch is electric, but also almost a painful tease.
I’m already there, and he’s way behind the curve.
"Just get inside me," I demand, trying to push back harder. "Now."
Instead of obeying, Logan shoves me forward, pushing down until my breasts are squished against the bed and my ass is even higher in the air. His palm presses between my shoulder blades, keeping me in place.
"I don’t want you to tear. I need to make sure you’re ready for me."
I’m ready, okay? Fucking ready, primed and raring to go. My body thrums with need, and as delightful and wonderful as his fingers feel—and holy shit do they feel good—I want more. I want to be spread wide and slammed into until I can’t remember my own name.
"Logan, I swear to God—"
Two fingers thrust inside me, cutting off my protest. The stretch burns in the best possible way as he pumps them in and out, curling upward to hit that perfect spot.
It’s not his cock, but it’s an acceptable second.
"Be good," he growls, and the command in his voice makes me clench around his fingers.
I bite into the comforter beneath me, trying not to make too much noise. Each stroke of his fingers winds me tighter, building pressure low in my belly. But it’s not enough. Not when I know how good the real thing feels.
"I don’t need prep," I argue, my voice muffled. "I need you."
He adds a third finger, stretching me even more, and I moan despite myself. His other hand grips my hip hard enough to bruise, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
"You’ll take what I give you," Logan mutters. "When I decide you’re ready."
The dominance in his tone is like ambrosia, and I shudder.
My body betrays me, growing wetter around his fingers. I hate how much I love this—him taking control, making me wait, building my need until I’m desperate. Hate it because I want him to slam into me and give me the relief I need; love it because fuck, who wouldn’t?
His thumb finds my clit and circles it slowly while his fingers continue their relentless pace inside me. My toes curl.
"Logan," I whimper, no longer caring how needy I sound. "Please."