She had never even thought about a man doing this to her.
And now Logan was.
Logan.
And suddenly, it was all more than she could take. Desire crashed over her like a wave, and she clung to him, to his head, as he continued lapping at her while she called out his name. He didn’t stop. He kept on going. Kept on going until she was begging for a reprieve, because she couldn’t take any more. She was too sensitive. All over. And yet, somehow she still felt unsatisfied.
And she knew what she needed. She needed him.
She didn’t have to say anything.
Wordlessly, he moved away from her, making his way to the nightstand and opening the drawer.
“You said you don’t bring women here,” she said when he reached inside and pulled out a condom.
“I don’t,” he said. “But I knew you were coming tonight. So I put it in a centrally located spot.”
Possessiveness gripped her heart. She didn’t want to think about him touching another woman. Didn’t want to think about that box of condoms that he’d already had, she was sure, because it was open, after all. And he might have moved it thinking of her. But when he had opened it for the first time, he probably hadn’t been.
“It’s just you,” he said. “It’s just you tonight.”
He pushed his jeans off the rest of the way, tearing open the packet and rolling the latex over his length. She couldn’t stop staring. At the way his strong hand gripped his own body. It was mesmerizing. He was mesmerizing. Broad shoulders, muscular, defined body. Every time he moved there was a chain reaction in those dips and hollows, an action creating a reaction in that perfectly structured form.
He came back to the bed, kissing her. She could taste her own desire on his lips, and heat flooded her. She would have expected shame. But he clearly enjoyed her arousal so much that she couldn’t feel ashamed of it.
He put his hand between her legs again, pushing a finger inside of her, and then another. “I can’t promise it won’t hurt,” he murmured.
“It’s okay,” she said, her throat getting tight.
Now, they were talking. But she couldn’t say she liked it. The wordless passion was a lot more comfortable. It made her eyes feel less scratchy and her mouth feel less dry.
He cursed, harsh and hard. “I can’t, Rose,” he said. “I can’t wait anymore.”
He gripped himself, positioned himself between her legs, nudging the entrance of her body with that blunt, thick head. He started to push inside, and she gasped, clinging to his shoulders. It didn’t hurt. Not really.
But she shivered as she took him in, inch by inch. He was so thick, so hard. And she was...invaded. Conquered.
He closed his eyes and he shuddered. And she felt it. Felt it echo inside of her. It was too much. She wanted to run from it. Wanted to fight against it.
He was in her.
He’d warned her. That it was so much more than she could imagine.
She hadn’t understood, not really.
Until now.
And she already felt all these things that he did. She didn’t know how she was supposed to survive Logan actually being inside of her. And she hadn’t thought of that. She was breathing too hard. Terrified of the great, swelling feelings in her chest, the pressure building behind her eyes.
But then he kissed her. And it wasn’t a fire like before. It was sweet, like honey. Soothing. And with that sweetness he began to create that desire inside of her again. Overtaking the fear.
Then, he began to move. Deep, hard strokes that taught her about new places inside of herself each and every time.
Until she was desperate again. Until her entire world had become Logan, and the feelings he created so deep inside of her.
Until the only word she remembered was his name. And she said it over and over again. More times than she could count.
Then he said her name. Only once. Like a curse and a prayer all wrapped into one. “Rose.”
And she shattered.
She clung to him, her body pulsing around his. And then she felt all that great strength crumble beneath her fingers. As he shook and shattered, giving in to his own release, his body pulsing deep inside of her.
She had been right.
The mountains were in danger of crumbling.
The most inevitable, certain mountain in her life just had. In bed with her. In her arms.
Buried deep inside of her.
Something felt fundamentally altered. Fundamentally changed.
And she was suddenly desperately, deeply afraid, that she would never be able to have that landscape back the way it had been.
That she might have lost her horizon line forever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE’D BEEN AFRAID to sleep. But after Rose had turned to him a third time, and they had both been left sated and exhausted, Logan had dozed. And when he woke up, he realized why falling asleep had been a bad idea. Because it was in that moment where he had a bit of distance, and time to rest his brain, where he truly realized what he had done.
Rose must have realized it too, because it wasn’t the gray light of dawn that woke him. It was her. Padding around his room with bare feet. He opened his eyes just in time to see her pulling her jeans up over her ass.
An ass he had grabbed last night. Multiple times. And bitten once. Well. Twice. An ass that was even more beautiful than he had let himself imagine.
Dammit.
What the hell had they done?
Well. He actually knew the answer to that question, because everything they had done flashed through his mind in full, vivid color.
He had said that he was going to teach her about sex.
That hadn’t been a lesson. Hadn’t been a forfeit taken for losing a bet.
It had been a conquering.
A final exam without any chance to learn the source material.
It had been amazing. But he had been selfish. Rougher than he should’ve
