Page 40

CHAPTER 38

SLOANE

“Y ou’ve been going to see Rome,” I told him as soon as he walked through the door after a skating session.

He grinned and blushed. “Ahh, little rascal. I told him to keep that a secret.”

“Logan, that’s so amazing,” I told him, a tear sliding down my cheek. “He’s already improving so much.”

“He’s a fun kid,” he responded as if it was no big deal. “And you’re not allowed to cry about it.”

“Why not?” I laughed, wiping at my face as he prowled toward me.

“Because I have plans for you. Something new we’re going to try.”

“What?” I asked, anticipation already building in my core.

There was a wicked glint in his gaze as he took my hand and led me down the hallway to the painting room he’d set up in his—our—place. “We’re going to paint.”

I raised an eyebrow, not saying anything as he led me inside and then walked me to the center of the room.

“I just need to move this,” he mused, dropping my hand and going over to the settee on the far wall. He dragged it into the middle of the floor and fussed with the velvet cushions. I grinned as I watched him.

“Why exactly have you decided to pick up painting today?”

“Let’s just say you’ve inspired me,” he teased as he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the couch.

“And what have I inspired you to paint?”

“You,” he said, his voice turning low and smooth…and sensual. Goosebumps ran across my skin as he slowly walked over to where I kept my paints.

“Take everything off,” he ordered, and I immediately obeyed, my heart picking up speed in my chest. I could already feel my core softening, my panties getting wet. My nipples were budding and rubbing uncomfortably against my bra.

Biting down on my lip, a rush of heat flooded my cheeks at the way he was looking at me. I wasn’t sure how it could be like this every time. Like he was in awe of what he saw.

I kept waiting for it to fade. But it never did.

I pulled the shirt over my head. Then took my pants off, doing an awkward shuffle as I slipped out of them. I was learning that it was difficult for me to be practiced and cool around Logan.

Probably because for the first time, sex meant something. It wasn’t just a performance where I was going through the motions.

“Now your bra,” he said roughly, a splash of color in his cheeks as he continued to take me in.

“Do you think you’ll ever stop looking at me like that?” I whispered, an edge of vulnerability to my words.

His features softened. “Never,” he swore fiercely.

“How do you know?” I asked, unable to keep the desperation out of my voice.

He cocked his head, taking his time as he undid the cap of a blue tube of paint and squeezed some out on a pallete.

“I know I’ll never stop looking at you like I’m in love, because every time I see you, it feels like the whole world is holding its breath, waiting for you to steal it over and over again.

“I know I’ll never stop looking at you like I’m in love, because of the way you walk into a room like you own it but still can’t help being a little shy. Somehow, you don’t know you’re the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever seen.

“I know I’ll never stop looking at you like I’m in love, because of the way you light up a room without even realizing it, like you’re carrying a little bit of the sun with you wherever you go.

“It’s the way your laugh sounds like it belongs in a song. And the way you look at me sometimes, like I’m worth everything. It’s how you always surprise me—whether it’s with something you say or just the way you see the world—it keeps me on my toes in the best way.

“It’s the way you let me in, even when you’re scared, like trusting me is a risk you’re willing to take.

“And it’s the way you make me feel. Like for the first time in my life, I’m enough.

“I know I’ll never stop looking at you like I’m in love, Sloane, because I am in love with you. Now and forever. You are my everything.

“So the question is, how could I not look at you like this?”

My breath came out in a gasp as his words stitched themselves to my skin. I undid my front clasp, and my bra sprung open, the air cool on my nipples and making them pebble even more. His gaze grew hungry, and his tongue peeked out and slowly slid across his bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment like it was hard for him to look at me. I slowly slid my underwear down my legs until I was completely bare.

He cleared his throat and gestured to the couch. “Now, lie down so I can paint you.”

“I can think of better things we can do,” I told him as I reluctantly sat down. What I really wanted to do was jump on him and throw him on this couch so I could get what I wanted.

But I guessed I could play along. For a little while.

Logan studied me intensely, his gaze raking across my skin, and then he studied the myriad of paints he had laid out to use, picking a few of them and squeezing them onto the palette to join the blue.

“There’s blank canvases in the cabinet,” I told him, pressing my legs together because somehow all of this was turning me on.

He hummed in response, squeezing out some gold and a lighter blue before he picked up a brush. “I have another canvas in mind,” he finally murmured before he slowly stalked toward the couch.

He circled me, and I watched, my heart pounding as he dipped the brush into the blue paint. “Turn over,” he said, his voice growing hoarse.

As I rolled over, the velvet brushed against my chest. I was so wet that a trail of liquid fell down my thigh as the cool bristles gently touched the back of my neck. I shivered and a sigh fell from my lips.

“I’m obsessed with your body. The first thing I noticed when I saw you up in the stands was how poised you were, the way you were holding your head. I’d never seen anyone who looked so…I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like you were a queen sitting among your courtiers.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the paint cool against my skin as he continued, moving the brush down my back in long, deliberate strokes.

I turned my head to look at him, watching as he switched colors, dipping into a fiery orange that he spread across my ass. “This reminds me of the fire inside you. You can’t see it like everyone else can. But you’re a survivor, and the fire inside you that’s kept you going is the strongest I’ve ever seen—the strongest I’ve ever felt.”

A tear slid down my cheek as he dipped the brush through my crease, briefly brushing against my slit before circling the other ass cheek.

He abruptly turned me over, and I shivered as I flopped onto my back. I sucked in a breath as he dragged the brush down my neck, over the curve of my breast, and around my waist. I was shaking—whether from the cold paint or from the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t tell.

Logan stepped back, eyeing his work for a second before dipping the brush into a deep, rich purple. “I think about your curves constantly. I’ll be skating across the ice and realize that I’ve been lost in my head the entire time thinking about the next time I can have you. I can’t ever come back from this. I won’t be able to. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.” He dipped the brush into my belly button, his voice casual, like his words weren’t rewriting my DNA.

I felt like I was going to melt. My body tingled where the paint touched, but it wasn’t just the physical sensation. It was the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, like he was seeing more than just skin. Like he was pulling me apart piece by piece.

He dipped the brush in red next and starting from my knees, began to paint my inner thighs. Each stroke of the brush got closer and closer to my core, and I couldn’t help the moan that slipped from my lips.

“You’re soaking wet, Red. Your thighs were wet before I even started painting you.” He dipped the brush through my slit, circling my clit until I was mewling, my head thrown back in agony because I wanted him so much.

He laughed darkly for a moment before bringing the brush up to my left breast and painting the skin over where my heart was beating wildly.

“You’re a masterpiece,” he said softly, still holding the brush, his eyes dark and full of something I couldn’t quite place.

I swallowed, my throat tight. The paint was drying on my skin, and I was feeling exposed and raw, but also… seen .

“This is the best prize I’ve ever won,” Logan purred, the paintbrush continuing to move over my heart. “Tell me, pretty girl. Give me what I want to hear.”

I stared into his eyes, the words on my lips.

Yes, he’d won my heart. A thousand times over he’d won it. Even if the words were still hard to speak.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He grinned, like my words really were a prize. He leaned over and brushed his lips against mine. “I know.”

I huffed. “So sure of yourself.”

My words didn’t have the intended effect that they should have because of the breathiness in my voice that I was sure told him all he needed to know. He was still hovering above me, and I couldn’t get myself to look away and break the spell.

The paintbrush was still pressing into my skin, and I suddenly yanked it away, reaching up and painting a streak of red across his face.

Logan didn’t bother trying to get the brush back; he wiped his hand through the paints on the palette and then streaked it across my chest, groping my breasts while he did it. Of course.

“That’s not playing fair,” I said, my voice half moaning as I streaked red across his lips this time.

As soon as I moved the brush, his lips were on me, smearing the red between us. I could taste some of the paint on my tongue—probably not great for my health.

But everything else about Logan was.

His tongue slipped into my mouth, long, aggressive licks that had my core clenching.

He pulled away, breathing hard as he stared at my face, and then my chest, his dark gaze raking over my breasts. My skin felt flushed and tight.

With his paint-streaked hand, he once again dragged his palm over my breasts before he suddenly shoved a hand under my back, pulling me up and onto his lap. I clung to him, the paintbrush clattering to the wood floor as I straddled him.

“Logan,” I whimpered, my bare ass on his denim-covered thighs. I watched as he dipped his fingers into the paint once again, stroking the paint across my face as he stared at me intensely.

“Fuck me,” I begged, and his grin was like a flame flickering to life in the darkness. I wanted to live in it. His hands tangled in my hair, and he groaned as his lips claimed mine once again, our mouths and tongues tangling together.

He reached between us with one hand, undoing his jeans and pulling out his cock, fisting it slowly as he continued to devour my mouth.

“You want my big dick so bad, don’t you?” he growled, biting down on my lip, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

“Yes,” I moaned, replacing his hand with my own as I lifted up and rubbed his tip against my clit. Sparks of pleasure heated my core.

It wasn’t enough, though. Nothing would be enough but him inside me.

“Beg me for it.”

Mmm. This was new. I was definitely going to add this to the list of things that I liked.

I pulled back, shifting my hips as his hands curved to my back and then down to my ass, squeezing it and pushing me against his cock.

“I’m waiting,” he said roughly.

My hands moved back to his shoulders, gripping them as I rubbed myself up and down his length.

“Please, baby. I need you inside me,” I begged.

I was dripping wet, soaking his cock as it moved through my folds.

It felt so fucking perfect.

“Yes, that’s it. Use me. Get what you need,” he murmured, pressing another bruising kiss against my lips. The light was fading in the room, catching on the perfect planes of his face.

“How badly do you need me?” he said silkily, maintaining much more control than I was capable of at the moment. His dick was rubbing perfectly against my clit, and my head dropped to his chest.

“I want you more than anything. Please, Logan, please,” I moaned, my fingers digging into his skin as I tried to sit up higher so that I could have him.

The bastard laughed. “My poor impatient girl. Do you need me to take care of you?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

His mouth moved against my ear, his tongue tracing the edge and sending shivers racing down my skin. “Please,” I whispered again.

“As you wish,” he breathed, his voice finally thick with the arousal I was feeling.

He kneaded my ass cheeks one more time before lifting me up and positioning the mushroomed head of his perfect dick at my opening.

I was about to beg again when he slammed me down, impaling me on his huge length.

My head fell back, and I moaned, trying to adjust to the fullness and learn how to breathe again. It was still a miracle every time he fit inside me.

His shirt was still on, and I pulled at it, frantic to feel his skin against me. He growled and ripped it open with one hand, buttons clattering to the floor around us. I clutched him desperately, my eyes finally fluttering open as I adjusted to his size.

“You’re choking my dick, baby,” he groaned, the sound so erotic that I gushed around him, my essence soaking our thighs.

“I love your dick,” I told him as my body started to move.

“And me. You love me, too,” he reminded me.

I moaned in response, his cock hitting that perfect spot in my core that only he could reach.

He captured my kiss, his tongue thrusting in, aggressive deep licks that I could feel everywhere.

I rocked against him, working my clit each time I shifted my hips.

“Yes, you’re perfect,” he murmured against my lips, his hands guiding my body in the perfect rhythm.

Sometimes it felt like he had been made just for me. From the fit of his dick, to the taste of his mouth…to how he knew just the pressure and movement to get me off.

Everything about him was perfect.

I cried out, an orgasm shooting through me, surprising me with its suddenness. He continued to move, working me up and down his dick as the pleasure coursed through me. “That’s my good girl,” he said, his voice smug as he leaned forward. “Now do it again.”

My pussy clenched at his words, and it was easy for the pleasure to build as his mouth closed around my nipple, sucking and pulling at the tender flesh while he slammed me onto his cock.

“You feel so fucking good. Your tight pussy is taking me so well,” he growled as he released my nipple and thrust up inside me, his gaze glued to where his dick was stretching my entrance.

“Logan,” I whimpered.

“That’s it, baby. Come one more time.”

My hands slid from around his neck, brushing against his cheeks as I stared into his green eyes, trying to center myself, to stay in the moment by focusing on the stubble on his cheek, the way he smelled, the feel of his huge length as it rutted in and out of me.

Hoarse cries were slipping from my lips as our bodies worked together, the pleasure building until my vision grew hazy. I was shaking and jerking against him as I came, the sensations stronger and brighter than anything I’d ever experienced before.

His groans joined mine, and a second later he was filling me with hot bursts of cum, so much that the liquid seeped out between us.

Between our…fluids and the paint, we’d destroyed this couch.

Worth it.

Logan shifted us and laid me gently back, somehow staying inside me as we moved. The look in his eyes had me thinking of that word again… forever . He rolled us so that we were both on our sides, and I was cradled in his arms.

I was sticky, and there was dried paint coating my skin. But as he brushed a kiss against my forehead, I was also sure that I’d never felt better.