Page 55 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)
Chapter Forty-Two
SLOANE
L ogan groans as I slide him inside me, the sound so erotic I nearly come on the spot. I move over him slowly, savoring the sensation of him entering and withdrawing from my body.
The pale, almost white blue of his eyes swirls with emotion. He gazes at me with love. This isn’t just desire or lust.
I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I trail my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, skimming over his full lips while studying his face.
I love this man. This grumpy, tough, breathtakingly beautiful man, inside and out. The hardness and the gentleness hidden deep beneath his layers of protection, the walls he rarely lets down.
I increase my pace, the tight coil in my gut tightening. Pleasure builds, cresting toward release.
“Turn around.” he stops me, gripping my hips. I don’t hesitate, rising and settling over him again with my back to his front.
“Oh fuck,” he growls as I take him in to the hilt. “This is heaven, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”
He reaches around me, his fingers pressing against my clit. “Does this feel good, Sloane? Am I making you feel good?”
“Mmm,” I hum as he rubs my clit in an increasing rhythm, rocking my hips to meet his fingers. “Yes, fuck, it’s good.” The words leave me on a breathy gasp.
“Give yourself to me. I want every moan and sigh. They’re all mine, only mine. I want to come inside you.”
The large knot in my stomach grows to dimensions I can no longer contain. I know that any second, I’ll erupt, explode, shatter with electric, erotic energy.
“Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me. Gripping me like your pussy never wants me to leave.”
I come undone, detonating above him, my body contorting as I throw my head back against his shoulder. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me, pulling me under.
He continues massaging my clit, prolonging the contractions to a point I can no longer withstand, and I push his hand away from my oversensitive flesh.
He increases his pace, pounding into me forcefully, taking me hard and deep, his hand gripping my stomach, pressing my body to his.
I open my eyes and stare into the mirror on the ceiling, transfixed by the erotic sight of him sliding in and out of me, his eyes half-closed in pleasure as Logan chases his own peak .
His eyes shut, and he shouts my name as he comes, his face a mask of exquisite bliss.
Minutes pass, and my flushed, sweaty body is still trembling from the orgasm I just experienced, my mouth agape, chest heaving rapidly. The air smells like sex, thick and heavy with our combined musk.
He’s claimed my body, my mind, my soul. I’m his in this moment, in a way I’ve never belonged to anyone before. I know that if he decides to leave me, I’ll never return to who I was.
He changed me.
I lie in his arms for long minutes, neither of us speaking, just catching our breath. Basking in the afterglow.
I climb off his lap and pull the dress over my head, knowing I look exactly how I feel—like a well-fucked woman. I can still feel him, the slickness between my thighs, the ghost of his touch on my skin.
He lifts the pants tangled around his ankles, zips them up, and puts on his shirt without bothering to button it. His muscled torso peeks through the open halves, tempting me to run my hands over the defined ridges.
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“The last thing I want to do now is leave you, but I have to sort things out with the company and my dad.” He leans down and kisses me.
“What are you planning to do?”
“Take responsibility and resign.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I do.” He knocks on the window separating us from the driver. “He’ll take us to my place now. Will you wait for me there until I’m done? ”
I nod.
The ride takes a few more minutes. We pass through a large, opaque gate and enter an underground parking garage.
Logan holds the limousine door, and I step out. The driver stands by the vehicle and I think he winks at me. Did he hear us? Well, even if he didn’t, I’m sure he guessed what we were doing. Fits my new role as a porn star. The irony isn’t lost on me.
Logan enters the elevator, inserting a key into the round hole, and the elevator shoots upward.
“Of course,” I mumble.
The elevator doors open, and we step inside his penthouse. I look around the huge, designer living room. Every piece of furniture looks like it costs more than my entire apartment.
“Wow.”
I run my hand over the soft couches and peek at the artwork. Bold abstract canvases in shades of black, white and gray. Fitting.
Logan leaves the living room, disappearing into another room, and returning after a few minutes dressed in a fresh suit, holding a jacket on a hanger. “I’m sorry again that I have to disappear on you. Will you be okay waiting for me here?”
I nod, unable to stop surveying the place with my eyes, drinking in every lavish detail. “I guess I can manage in this palace.”
He approaches me and turns my face to him. His fingers are gentle on my chin. “Snoop to your heart’s content.” He kisses me briefly and leaves, the click of the door echoing in the quiet.
Oh, he knows me so well . Mischief curls my lips.
I walk down the hallway where I saw Logan vanish earlier and peer into the open room. Anticipation buzzes in my veins as I step over the threshold.
The Dark Lord’s bedroom suits him. The entire room is black, gray and white, without a hint of true color, except for a bouquet in a vase on the nightstand.
The enormous bed in the center is covered in black sheets, and I have the sudden urge to sprawl across the dark silk to see if it smells like him.
I enter and peek through the interior doors. My curiosity gets the better of me.
A huge walk-in closet full of black suits arranged like soldiers. Black shoes in a row on a stand on the floor. There’s not a speck of dust or clutter here, and not a speck of color either.
It’s like stepping into a monochromatic photograph. I wonder what Logan thinks of my messy home. Chaos to his order.
I touch nothing and move on to the second door. A bathroom about the size of my apartment, equipped with every possible amenity. The temptation to get in the tub is high, but curiosity wins out, and I continue my tour. Eager to uncover more of the man I’ve fallen for.
I find a gym, two more bedrooms, and an office. And when I enter the next room, my breath catches. I freeze, eyes widening in wonder.
A library. Heaven.
Dark shelves filled with books cover the walls. The room looks disconnected from the modern apartment. As if I’ve sunk into the past, into a magical world of books.
The scent of leather and aged paper wraps around me like a comforting embrace. It’s more beautiful than the bookstore we visited in London.
The wall covered in pink, turquoise, white and black books catches my attention, drawing me closer. It doesn’t look like it belongs here. My fingers itch to skim over the colorful spines.
“What the hell?” I mutter, my fingers hovering over all the familiar romance novels. “He even has K. Winter’s new book that hasn’t come out yet! She’s my favorite author. How did he get it?
I pull it from the shelf and embrace it. Oh my God. Could all of this be for me? My heart squeezes at the thought. I open the book and nearly drop it as shock steals my breath.
“What? How?” I stroke the signature and personal dedication from the author.
To Sloane,
Logan is going to be a character in my next book, but he’ll be the reality of your life.
(And if you’re wondering, he forced me to do this.)
Kisses, K.
“How did he know?”
A ringing startles me, and I return the book to its place and try to locate the source of the noise until I realize it’s coming from a device resting on the kitchen table. I press a button, and the screen comes to life.
A man in his fifties dressed in a security guard uniform appears on the screen. “Hello, I have a delivery for Mr. Valeur.” He holds up a white box.
“Oh, hi. Mr. Valeur isn’t here right now. I’m a guest in his apartment. I, uh...” Can I say I’m his girlfriend? I’m not sure. And why am I trying to explain?
“Would you like me to bring the package upstairs, Ma’am, or will you come down to get it?”
I don’t know where the key to the apartment or elevator is or how to get to the lobby. “Yes, I’d appreciate it if you could bring it up.”
The call disconnects, and within five minutes, the guard appears at the door holding the white box. “Here you go, ma’am.” The moment I take the package, he disappears again.
I place the box on the table and peek at it. Curiosity burns hot under my skin. Will Logan kill me if I look inside?
He said I’m allowed to snoop.
I open it and narrow my eyes. Confusion furrows my brow as I take in the contents. What the hell?