Page 67 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

Chapter Forty-One

TIA

Getting Logan’s name tattooed on my ass cheek? Absolutely worth it for this reaction.

The man dropped to his knees like I had the Sistine Chapel inked back there. And the way he’s worshipping me now—eyes locked on the five letters that spell his name like they’re sacred—I’d do it all over again.

Logan reaches out, his fingers trailing over the script of his name. A soft whimper slips from my throat at the heat of his touch. The touch I’ve longed for. Months and months of yearning for the rough pads of his fingers to sink into me.

He leans forward and presses a kiss right over the ink. When he chuckles against my skin, I smile, already knowing how much he loves my little surprise.

But when that quiet laugh turns into something bigger, I twist my whole body around, trying to see his face.

“What? Why are you laughing like that?” I ask, half-grinning, half-confused. God, I missed this—his unfiltered, back-pocket laugh that sneaks out of him when he least expects it.

Logan buries his face in my thigh, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable laughter. I thread my fingers through his hair, lifting his head to meet my gaze.

“T … baby …” he wheezes, barely able to catch his breath.

What the hell?

“What?!” I demand, laughing now too, because it’s contagious.

Logan pushes up to his feet, still grinning, then leans down to kiss me—soft and sweet—before turning around.

I gasp, both of my hands flying over my mouth. “Logan. No. You fucking didn’t.”

Right there, inked on the curve of his left ass cheek in bold, black script: Tia.

He glances over his shoulder, smug as hell. “Oh, I fucking did.”

My jaw drops. “You tattooed my name on your ass?!” I yelp, as if I literally didn’t do the same exact thing.

I burst out laughing, covering my face as the reality of it sinks in.

Matching ass tattoos. We’re absolutely unhinged. And absolutely perfect.

Logan turns back to me, cupping my face in his hands as he steals the rest of my laughter with his mouth. He presses his weight over mine. I revel in his warmth, and can’t help but smile with how his strong, solid arms and broad chest anchor me to this unforgettable moment.

Our laughter fades as our kiss deepens, turning molten. Tongues clash, tasting, teasing, neither of us willing to give up control. With one arm, Logan lifts me higher onto the bed, never once breaking the kiss, like severing it would cost him air.

“When?” I breathe, barely holding back a moan as his mouth trails down my neck, his tongue gliding slowly across my collarbone.

“When I got back from Vegas,” he mumbles against my skin, face buried in the soft valley between my breasts.

I freeze for a beat. Vegas. He did it during the silence. When everything between us felt shattered.

He looks up at me, eyes hooded, voice low. “Hell, I would’ve done it in Vegas the second you told me to.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

Logan arches a brow, lips ghosting over my nipples as his gaze locks with mine.

“You own me, baby. I knew it the second you gave me an inch. And clearly …” His voice dips darker, pupils swallowing the brown in his eyes as he flips me onto my stomach, “... you felt the same.”

The tattoo on my ass stares back at him, bold and bare. He leans in, lips brushing over the ink with reverence.

“When?” he echoes my earlier question.

A shiver rolls through me as he kisses the spot again. His tongue flicks against my goose-bumped skin, and I have to press my cheek into the mattress to muffle the moan building in my throat.

“After Halloween,” I whisper. “I missed you so bad. But in Vegas … I knew . Even through the mess, I belonged to you. I needed you to see I have no doubts about us. To know how completely I surrender to you. You own every part of me, Logan.”

It sounds wild—his name inked on my ass—but it’s not a joke. It’s a promise. A truth carved into my skin because he’s already buried beneath it.

His voice catches as his palm glides over the mark. “Damn, baby. You have no idea what that does to me. Seeing this. Hearing that.” His tone drops lower. “It’s so fucking sexy knowing I’m permanently yours.”

He kneads the soft flesh with his thick fingers, thumbs dragging dangerously close to my soaked center. When he spreads me open, I arch for him on instinct, aching for more.

“So,” he rasps, “I own your heart, T?”

“Yes.”

His tongue drags a hot, slow path straight to my dripping core, and a raw moan rips out of me.

“And your soul?” he growls, his tongue plunging deep, curling inside me as I claw the sheets with trembling hands.

“Y-yes,” I pant, breathless as he worships me with his mouth.

He pulls back, trailing kisses higher. My body locks up as he spits—warm and filthy—on my tight little puckered hole. The slick heat drips downward, making my pussy clench hard.

“And this juicy, perfect ass? I own that too?”

Oh, God.

I lift my head just enough to smirk over my shoulder. “Your name is on it. What do you think?”

Logan spears me with a thick finger before I can even form my next thought. My body jerks forward, breath hitching, but he’s not done—not even close.

His other hand grips the cheek with his name tattooed on it, hard enough to leave prints, his thumb circling my tight ring of muscle, slick with his spit as he works it in with maddening precision.

“I think it’s time I fuck that brat right out of you and claim this tight little asshole for myself,” he growls, voice thick with heat. “You might own me, Tia—but don’t forget whose name you’ll be choking on for the rest of your goddamn life.”

A sharp and needy whimper escapes me, my entire body arching into his hold like I’ve been waiting for this exact moment.

My skin is on fire. All I can feel is him—his fingers, his voice, the weight of his name seared into my body, the way he looks at me like he’s worshipping something sacred and ruining it all at once.

And God help me, I want every filthy second of it.

Logan pushes his thumb deeper into my ass, my breaths turning ragged with every inch he claims. The initial sting fades, melting into a sharp, pulsing pleasure that makes my thighs tremble.

Then his tongue dives back into my pussy. It’s fast, lewd, and fucking perfect . I lose what little control I have left. His mouth fucks me while his thumb presses in deeper, stretching me in tandem, until I’m gasping his name like a sinful prayer.

“Oh God, ” I cry out, my orgasm coiling tight, low in my belly like a fuse waiting to blow.

Logan’s tongue finds my clit, and I scream a raw, unfiltered sound as he flicks it ruthlessly, over and over, pushing me higher and higher, every nerve in my body firing all at once.

“I’m so close,” I moan, grinding back against his face, desperate and undone. “Make me come.”

“Mmmh,” he groans into me, tongue and thumb working in perfect, punishing rhythm as he drags me to the edge and shoves me straight over it.

Logan doesn’t ease up. He devours me through the high, relentless and ravenous, as my body seizes around his thumb—tight, trembling, every muscle locked with ecstasy. I’m still falling off the peak of my release, caught in wave after wave, my cries wild and unrestrained.

The sounds spilling from my lips aren’t human. They’re raw, obscene, otherworldly. I’ve forgotten language, forgotten control. All I know is Logan and the way he’s tearing me apart and putting me back together with every brutal, beautiful movement.

He pulls his mouth from my clit just long enough to show me mercy as I gasp for air—then I feel it.

The thick, heavy slap of his cock against my soaked entrance.

“Now I’m gonna own this pussy,” he growls, wrecked and feral. “And show you exactly just how much I fucking missed you, baby.”

Then he thrusts— hard —burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke, hips crashing into my ass with force. I cry out, eyes rolling back as he fills me so deep I swear I can feel him in my throat.

His thumb stays right where it is, fucking into my tight hole in perfect rhythm with his hips, as he pounds into me from behind with raw, unfiltered hunger.

The sounds echoing off the walls are enough to unravel me—heavy breaths, the sharp smack of skin on skin, and the filthy, desperate moans we rip from each other like confessions.

It’s been so long since we’ve touched like this.

No barriers, no hesitation. Just raw, aching need.

Every inch of my body doesn’t just belong to him—it worships him.

It calls out to him on instinct. With every punishing thrust, he carves the truth into my bones: I’m his, and I don’t get to walk away from us ever again.

Logan slides his thumb from my ass and bends over me, pressing his slick chest to my back.

His guttural, possessive groan pours straight into my ear and sends a cascade of shivers down my spine.

Our sweat clings, slick and intimate, sealing us together like we can’t bear to be apart after everything.

Every relentless snap of his hips hits deep, building a second orgasm that brews low in my belly like a live wire ready to ignite and fucking burn.

Desperate for more, for him , I twist my head, silently pleading for his mouth. Logan meets me in an instant, crashing his lips against mine, and we devour each other with wild, breathless hunger.

I whimper into his kiss, stealing his growls, his grunts, his breath.

“More, Lo,” I cry against his mouth. “More, baby.”

“ Fuck. Call me baby again.”

A slow, wicked smirk curls my lips when I feel his cock thicken inside me, every thrust hitting deeper, harder, more desperate.

“Give me more, baby. Please,” I moan, arching into him, meeting every stroke like my life depends on it.

“You want both holes filled, huh?” he snarls, breath ragged. “Like the filthy fucking girl you are?”