Page 70 of Thirst Trap

Logan let her. When she tugged him toward the bed, he followed. Clothes came off slowly, Penny undressing him like he was breakable, Logan tearing at himself like he hated the skin he was in.

“No,” she murmured, catching his hands. “Not tonight. Let me.”

He stilled. His chest rose and fell sharply, like every instinct screamed run. But he didn’t.

Penny pushed him back onto the mattress and climbed over him, straddling his hips. Her touch was softer than he expected palms smoothing over scarred shoulders, lips trailing down the line of his jaw.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

He flinched like she’d stabbed him.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

Her hips rolled slowly, teasing, dragging a groan from deep in his throat. Logan’s hands fisted in the sheets, holding himself back like the monster he thought he was.

“Touch me,” she breathed.

He shook his head, jaw tight. “I’ll ruin you.”

“You won’t.” She leaned down, kissed him softly. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

Something broke. He kissed her back hungry, desperate, but still letting her lead. Penny guided him in, sinking down slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time. His breath hitched like he’d never been inside anyone before.

“Fuck, Penny ” His voice was a growl and a plea.

She moved with him, steady, coaxing, whispering against his mouth. “You’re not a

monster.”

Logan’s control shattered. His hips bucked, his body trembling beneath hers, but he

let her keep the pace. Let her hold his jaw. Let her see every raw, unguarded piece

of him as he came undone.

Silence stretched after, filled only by the ocean outside and their ragged breaths. Penny lay against his chest, tracing circles over his ribs where the bandage shifted. Logan’s arms were heavy around her, but he didn’t move. Didn’t push her off.

“You’re shaking,” she murmured.

“Always do. After.” His voice was raw.

She kissed his temple. “That’s fine. I’ve got you.”

He gave a broken laugh. “You shouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I should do, Creams,” she said firmly. “You bled on my floor. You let me stitch you up. You let me in. You think I’m walking away now?”

His throat worked. His grip tightened on her waist, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the strength.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Penny whispered. She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. “Just… stay.”

Logan opened his eyes. Pale, unguarded. No mask. No monster. Just a man.

He nodded once. Barely. But it was enough.

She tugged him down into the pillows, tucked herself against his side, hand smoothing over his scars like they were maps, not wounds.