Page 41 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

SLOANE

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial. My heart is about to burst from excitement. It’s going to happen.

“Sloane.” His low voice sends a shiver through me. “I’ve been waiting for your call all evening. I can’t wait to see you, but I had to go to the office to deal with an emergency.” He sighs. “And I won’t be able to make it.”

“I can come to you. I mean, if you want.”

“How long will it take you to get here?”

I smile. It’s nice to hear he’s just as impatient. “Twenty minutes.” There’s no traffic at this hour.

“I’ll meet you in your office in ten.” He hangs up.

I grin.

I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. “Damn. How did I even think someone like Johnny would choose a dress like this for me?” I run my hand over the rich fabric that hugs every curve of my body. I need to hurry .

I don’t have much time, and I’ve already wasted five minutes.

The guard at the building entrance doesn’t even look up as I hurry to the elevator and press the button as if he sees women in evening gowns entering the office every day.

I sniff my armpits just to be safe. I think I’m sweating from the stress, and I don’t even know why I’m tense. This isn’t our first time. But something about this moment feels momentous, like our future hinges on what happens now.

I enter the dark office and reach for the light switch but stop at the last moment. If there’s a light blazing on this floor, someone might come to check. Better not. I walk down the familiar hallway to my office and open the door.

“Jesus!” I exclaim, placing a hand over my pounding heart.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” The dark figure rises from the chair next to my desk. “You’re late.”

“Sorry.” I turn on the light in my office.

“I thought you might not come.”

“I’m here.” I follow him with my eyes as he approaches me. God, I’ve missed him, his presence, more than I’d like to admit.

“I see.” He grips my waist and pulls me against him. “I like you in my dress. I knew it would look amazing on you.”

“It must have been expensive,” I mumble.

“Not that expensive.” His lips brush my neck. “Thirty-four thousand.”

I place a hand on his chest and push him back. “Thirty thousand? I’m wearing thirty thousand dollars? It’s worth more than my car, Logan! ”

“You want a new car, too?” His lips continue their journey along my throat.

“Fuck no. Hold your horses. I don’t want a car. I’m not here for your money.”

“I know. You’re here for my huge cock.” He grins. “The one you love to grope under the table.”

I let out a snort and clap a hand over my mouth. “Oh God. Forget you heard me make pig noises just now.”

His grin widens. “I’ve missed you.”

“You missed a woman embarrassing herself?”

“I missed a woman who acts how she wants, not how she thinks I want. A woman who sees me as a man, not a walking wallet.”

“Is that how you think women see you? As a walking wallet?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

“Then you’re wrong. They see you as The Dark Lord.” I rise on tiptoe and kiss the tip of his nose.

“‘The Dark Lord’?”

“Yes, The Dark Lord, with his huge cock.”

“Are you sure it’s huge? You haven’t checked in a while.” He kisses the spot below my ear and my pulse quickens.

“We need to talk,” I mumble as he continues to kiss down my neck, making his way toward my lips.

“Later. We have time for that later. Right now, I need to be inside you.”

“In the office?”

“There’s no one here but us.” He presses me against him so I can feel his hardness.

“And I can’t wait. I want to sink into you and feel you surrounding me, squeezing me as you come on my cock.

” He takes my hand and places it on his crotch.

“Do you feel me? How hard I am for you? Fuck Sloane, I can’t stop thinking about you. ”

I expel a shaky breath. Yes. I want this. I won’t lie. I’ve been fantasizing about the mind-blowing sex with him every day since London. I didn’t keep our agreement, didn’t leave London in London.

He unzips the dress at the back and slips the straps off my arms. It pools at my feet in a heap of fabric.

“Shit, Logan, that’s thirty thousand on the floor.” I rush to gather the dress and place it on the chair.

He chuckles. “Thirty-four. But I prefer what’s inside the dress.”

I moan as his tongue invades my mouth and his hands cup my ass. I wrap my thighs around him, and he lifts me onto the desk. He stands between my legs, his mouth never leaving mine as his hand caresses the delicate lace between my thighs.

“Now,” I demand. “I want you inside me now.”

“Wait, you’re not ready.”

I grasp his wrist and guide his hand inside my panties so he can feel for himself. “I’m ready. Now get over here.”

He smiles.

“You’re so beautiful when you smile.”

“You’ve told me that before.”

“Because it’s true, and you never smile.”

“I smile when I’m with you.”

That statement plucks at my soul. “You’re amazing.”

“No, this is amazing,” he says, and I throw my head back as his tongue sucks a nipple through the thin fabric of my bra.

“Yes, it is amazing,” I groan .

He yanks my panties down with impatient hands, his belt buckle clinking as he fumbles to undo it. I watch, my breathing shallow, as he pulls a condom from his pocket.

I place my hand over his. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m clean. I haven’t had sex with anyone but you in months, and you too, right?”

He nods. “Only with you, and I got tested.”

“So, we’re both clean, and I’m on the pill. Do you trust me?”

Something flashes in his eyes, hot and bright, and then he tosses the condom aside.

“Fuuuck,” I cry out, the word muffled against his lips as his fingers delve between my legs, finding me wet and ready. He strokes me, his touch electric, shattering.

“Yeah, baby, scream for me,” he growls, and then he shifts his hips and thrusts into me in one powerful stroke.

I throw my head back, a guttural moan tearing from my chest as he stretches and fills me, the fit so tight it borders on pain. He tangles his fingers in my hair, tugging my head back down to kiss me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to tangle with mine.

“God, it’s even better than I remembered,” he rasps against my lips. “So fucking perfect.”

I can only whimper and clutch at his shoulders as he moves, his hips snapping forward, driving into me with deep, forceful strokes that make stars explode behind my eyelids. A sheen of sweat covers our skin despite the cool air conditioning.

It’s raw, primal, a frantic tangle of limbs and mouths and seeking hands. I’ve never felt so desperate, so consumed.

It’s like I can’t get close enough, even with him seated to the hilt inside me, his body blanketing mine. I want to crawl inside his skin, to fuse us together until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.

“We sound like a porn scene,” I pant, the words barely coherent.

He huffs a strained laugh. “Like that scene from your book,” he counters, his voice a low, wrecked rumble.

I shake my head, my nails raking down his back. “You... unh ...you’re better...fuck...than the book,” I gasp out, punctuating each word with the roll of my hips.

He makes a strangled noise, his rhythm faltering for a beat before redoubling, pounding into me almost savagely. He hikes my legs up higher, draping them over his shoulders, the new angle making me keen and arch beneath him. His fingers skate over my high heels.

“Always had a thing for heels,” he grits out. “But fucking you in them? God, it’s like every fantasy coming to life.”

I can only moan in response, too far gone for words, for anything but sensation and hurtle toward the edge at breakneck speed, my body drawn taut as a bowstring, every nerve ending electrified.

When his fingers find my clit and begin to circle, I shatter with a ragged scream, my back bowing off the desk as I clench around him. He swears, his thrusts turning erratic, his control unraveling.

“Can’t... Fuck... Can’t hold back,” he pants. “You feel too good, you’re gonna make me...”

“Do it,” I urge. “Come in me. I want to feel you.”

The sounds he makes as he nears his peak, low and guttural and almost pained, make my toes curl in my heels. I clench around him, wanting to feel him lose control, desperate for the heat of him flooding me.

But at the last second, he pulls out with a tortured groan, fisting himself as he paints my stomach and breasts with thick strokes of his release. I watch, dazed and panting, as he marks me with his cum.

He collapses over me, bracing his weight on his forearms, his breathing harsh in my ear. I run trembling hands down his back, marveling at the play of muscle, the heat of him.

“Mine,” he rumbles, his lips mapping my jaw, my throat. “Fucking mine. Do you hear me? No one else gets to see you like this. Touch you like this. I’ll kill them if they try.”

A shiver rolls through me at the dark promise in his words. I know I should balk at his possessiveness, be disturbed by the violence simmering just beneath the surface. But God help me, it just makes me want him more, makes me ache to surrender myself to him.

“Yours,” I agree. “Only yours.”

“Good girl.”

“What are we going to do about work? You’re still my boss.”

He closes his eyes. “I’ll think of something.”

His phone rings. He glances at the screen, and his face darkens. Then he straightens and pulls his clothes back on. “I have to go. There’s an emergency. I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is to leave you, but I have to deal with this now. We’ll talk tomorrow?” He kisses my forehead.

I nod, and he turns and hurries out.

What the hell have I gotten myself into? And why, despite the complications and the uncertainty, do I already crave more ?

I clean myself up and get dressed. We were supposed to talk. Decide what to do next, and all I got was it’ll be fine. Nothing seems fine to me.

I turn off the light and head toward the elevator.

I freeze at the sound of rustling, my heart leaping into my throat. I strain my eyes, trying to penetrate the inky darkness, but I can’t make out any shapes or movements. Maybe I just imagined it, my mind playing tricks on me in the eerie stillness of the empty office.

I lick my dry lips, my tongue darting out. “Is someone there?” I call out, my voice sounding too loud, too brittle in the oppressive silence. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and the darkness seems to press in on me, menacing and thick with unnamed threats.

I fumble in my purse for my phone, my fingers clumsy with rising panic. I grip it, the edges digging into my palm, until my knuckles turn white with the strain. An icy shiver slides down my spine, the uncanny sensation of unseen eyes boring into me, watching, waiting.

“Hello?” I try again, hating the tremor in my voice. “Is anyone here? Show yourself.”

I spin in a slow circle, my heels sinking into the plush carpet, expecting at any moment to see a shadowy figure lurking in the corner, a flash of eyes in the dark. But there’s nothing, just the looming shapes of furniture and the faint glow of the exit sign over the door.

I press a hand to my forehead and let out a shaky laugh. That’s it, I’m officially losing it, jumping at shadows and imagining phantom stalkers.

The night’s events must be catching up with me, the adrenaline and endorphins fading, leaving me jittery and paranoid.

The ding of the elevator arriving makes me jump, my heart stuttering against my ribs. I hurry inside and stab at the lobby button, slumping against the wall in relief as the doors slide shut, sealing me in.