Wild Heat (Hot Shots: Men of Fire #1)(39)
Author: Bella Andre

She whispered “Yes” to tell him it was all right to continue, that she wanted him to remove her panties, that she was desperate to drop all the remaining barriers between them.

He pressed a kiss to her stomach, just below her belly button, and she sucked in a breath, waiting. And then, slowly, much too slowly, he slid her Love Lake Tahoe panties off her hips.

“I can’t wait another second to taste you.”

The fabric was still at her thighs and she should have been prepared for the slide of his tongue on her clitoris, for the muscles at the base of her stomach to clench and pull, but she wasn’t.

Nothing could have prepared her for Logan.

Slow warmth moved through her as his tongue slipped and slid over her heated flesh. He cupped her butt cheeks to shift her mound higher, closer to his mouth. She wanted to watch this beautiful man touch her so intimately, but her eyes closed as she arched her neck, her body straining toward him. Alternately he sucked at her clit, pulling and dragging on her arousal, then swept his tongue down the slick length of her labia.

Her muscles clenched with need. She wanted all of him, wanted to be filled with his huge, hard shaft. She opened her mouth to beg, to plead, but before she could utter a word, he slipped one thick digit inside of her.

Her breath stopped as she clamped around his finger. With painstaking slowness, he slid it in to the knuckle. She pushed against his hand, trying to take more of him inside. All the while, his tongue kept a steady beat on her clit. He added another finger to his sensual onslaught and she rode his fingers, pressed into his tongue. But instead of letting her crest the peak, he forced her to ride the ridge of pleasure, backing off when she got too close. He slid his fingers in, then out of her slick passage.

Higher and higher she flew, her muscles tightening one by one until she thought she might shatter.

“Please, Logan,” she finally begged, even though she was a woman who’d never begged anyone for anything, ever.

He grasped a thigh in each hand and dragged her legs wider. Just the simple act of repositioning her and the feel of his hair brushing against her belly was enough to send her crashing over the edge. He thrust his tongue inside her and her muscles clenched and convulsed around him.

And then he was focusing every ounce of his attention on her. Licking. Sucking. Pulling at her until she wanted to scream with joy.

She’d never known it was possible to feel like this, like she was dying and coming to life all at the same time. He didn’t stop licking her until her final tremor. She’d never known orgasms could be all-consuming, had never been limp and shattered afterward.

At last, she collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air. Logan shifted his weight from between her legs and brought his mouth back to her br**sts, tenderly nuzzling the undersides. Unlike other men who went straight for the nipple, he acted as if he had all the time in the world, and she found herself blossoming again beneath his mouth. She ached to feel his entire weight over her, and now that she’d found her breath again, all she wanted was to feel him sliding into her heat.

He lifted his head, a half smile on his beautiful lips. Lips that had brought her pleasure she’d never imagined possible.

“Soon,” he promised, “but not quite yet.”

She shifted and her foot grazed something hot and smooth. He immediately went stiff beneath her and, suddenly, she wanted him to know the torture of being teased—of being made to wait for something that was long past due.

She flexed her ankle and arched her foot, then pointed it and slid her toes slowly down his long length. Two could play the same game of anticipation and boundless desire.

Logan was levered above her on his forearms, his biceps and triceps shaking beneath her fingertips. And then the thick head of his erection was pressing into her heat.

The words “You win” came from his mouth a moment before he imprisoned her lips beneath his.

She bucked her hips into his hard heat, even though she knew better than to make love without protection. She was that far gone.

He allowed the head of his penis to slide into her, to stretch her wide, far wider than any other man before him. His eyes were blue-black with desire as he pushed inside another inch, and then another.

Her muscles gripped him tightly to pull him in farther. All the way in.

But Logan was a master of control, and her body ached for him as he pulled out and reached into his bedside table for one of the aforementioned condoms. He sheathed himself without her help—Lord knew her trembling hands would have been no use at all—and repositioned himself between her legs. He cupped her face and kissed her long and sweet.

She slid her hands against the great wall of his chest, then over his rib cage to hold on to his outspread lats. She shuddered as her forbidden dreams of making love to her mystery man from so many months ago came true.

“You’re mine, Maya.”

His passionate words rocked her to the core and she opened wide for him, moisture flooding her canal to ease his passage. Again and again, he thrust his hard, thick length into her. His heavy weight pressed her into the bed and his skin grew slick beneath her hands. Sweat beaded between her br**sts and he bent his head to lick it from her skin without missing a beat, the steady propulsion of his hips driving her back up to what should have been an unattainable peak.

She’d never come more than once a night, not even hours apart. But here, beneath Logan’s mouth and hands and erection, she was heading straight for another explosion, one that promised to be at least as powerful as her first.

He lifted his head again and locked his eyes on hers, knowing what was coming. And then his hands were in her hair and his mouth was on hers and she was wrapping her legs around his waist and rocking into him.

A cry of ecstasy tore from her throat and merged with his growl of pleasure as spasms wracked her body, starting from her heated core and working their way out to her skin, to the tips of her toes and fingernails and each hair on her head. She rode the length of his shaft again and again, her orgasm breaking her completely. She didn’t know how long they lay together afterward, his wonderfully heavy weight pressing into her. It could have been seconds. Minutes. Maybe even hours.

Maya had known from previous experience that Logan could play her body like a fiddle … but she’d had no idea it would be a symphony.

Being with him felt—just as it had six months ago—so incredibly right, even though it was wrong for a million different reasons, more so now than it had been six months ago. Back then, she supposed she could claim the disorientation of grief for her impulsive actions. But now, minutes after begging Logan to take her hard and fast, her excuses fell flat.