Forbidden Embers (24 page)

She licked her lips, tried to talk, but her voice was broken, her ability to breathe nearly gone. She was simply lost in sensation, the rhythmic contractions inside her stealing everything from her but the pleasure.

“Stop,” she gasped. “Please, Logan, you have to stop. I can’t take this.”

“You can take it,” he growled against her pussy. “You can take this and more, Cecily. You can take everything I want to give you.”

“Logan, you have to stop. You have to stop.” She was crying in earnest now, the pleasure so overwhelming that everything else had ceased to exist. Suddenly, she didn’t know how much longer she could survive without him inside her.

He seemed to read her mind as he slowly slid up her body, delivering kisses on every body part he could reach before he finally claimed her mouth. Her hand came up to cup his cheek and he visibly melted a little as her fingers stroked tenderly over his scar.

“Are you ready?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes!” Her hips bumped against his. “Yes, Logan. Yes, yes, yes!”

“Then kiss me again.”

Her lips met his ravenously, her tongue tangling with his as he used his hand to line up his cock to the entrance of her pussy. And then he started a slow, inexorable push inside her.

She gasped against his mouth, her eyes going wide, but he slid his free hand up to cup the back of her head and keep her in place. Then he slid his other hand between them and circled his thumb around her clit.

She jerked instinctively, her hips bumping against his, and he slid inside another inch. He stroked her again, and again she lifted her hips, taking more of him. Over and over he played with her clit, advancing inch by slow inch until he came up against the fragile membrane that signified her virginity. She shuddered a little, cried out, but he seemed determined to bring her only pleasure. He pinched her clit between his thumb and middle finger and then used his index finger to rub her to climax.

The second he felt her start to come, he pushed forward, thrusting himself through the barrier and all the way inside her until he was buried balls-deep.

Only then did he rip his mouth from hers. “Are you okay?” he demanded.

She didn’t answer. Her head was thrashing back and forth against the sleeping bag while her hands clutched at his hips and her body shuddered underneath his. “Cecily?” he asked again. “Cecily, answer me!”

“Do it!” she growled, her dragon so close to the surface that she could feel her talons digging into his skin. “Just fucking do it, Logan. You’re killing me!”

Her words were all the answer he needed, and he started to pull out, slowly at first as her raw, newly discovered muscles clamped down on him. Lowering his head, he licked across her nipple and she gasped, her body instinctively arching against his. And then he was back in. He pulled almost completely out again, moved slowly forward. Pulled out, moved forward. Pulled out, moved forward until Cecily was once again on the edge of orgasm.

Her hands were all over him, racing over his back, clutching at his ass, tangling in his hair as her hips moved beneath his with more and more surety. Moving his hand between them again, he rubbed her clit at the same time as he told her, “Let go, Cecily.” His voice was so low and guttural, she barely recognized it. “Let me feel you come, darlin.’ ”

She gasped, wrapped her legs around his upper thighs and pistoned her hips against his. His eyes crossed, and she felt his restraint shatter. Grabbing her hips, he thrust himself inside her hard. She screamed and started coming. The rhythmic contractions set him off, his orgasm roaring through him like a goddamn locomotive. Cecily clutched at his shoulders, tried to pull him down on top of her. He let her, and as her hard nipples brushed against his chest, he gave himself over to his release and came and came and came.

C
ecily lay under Logan, her mind racing and her body trembling with aftershocks. She’d fantasized about this moment for years, had imagined what it would be like, had even masturbated with it in her head. But nothing—nothing—could have prepared her for what it had been like to have Logan make love to her.

Like she’d been caught in the heart of a category-five hurricane.

Like she’d been run over by an eighteen-wheeler.

Like . . . like the most considerate lover on the planet had taken incredible care to make sure it was the most amazing, memorable experience of her life.

Sighing, she snuggled into Logan, loving the fact that he was still above her, still in her. Though he’d come, he was still hard, and each breath she took rubbed him against her G-spot, sending thrills of pleasure sparking through her.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, pushing up to his elbows so that he was no longer crushing her with the weight of his heavily muscled, six-and-a-half-foot frame.

“No,” she said, feeling oddly bereft. She could breathe better now, but she missed the comfort of having him surrounding her on all sides.

The thought should have alarmed her—after all, she couldn’t afford to get attached to Logan—and maybe it would later. Right now, she felt amazing. Like she could hike the entire Black Hills or fly around the world without stopping, or just lie here and bask in the afterglow with her wonderful, sensitive, incredibly talented lover.

The latter,
she decided with a secret grin. She was definitely going to do the latter.

And maybe, if she was lucky, they would never have to get up.

Despite her protests and the way she clutched at his hips to keep him close, Logan slowly rolled off her. Afraid that it was over, that he would want her to leave now that they’d finally made love, she turned her head so he wouldn’t see the stupid, irrational tears she couldn’t seem to stop.

But she should have known better. He pulled her against him, throwing one of his legs over hers as he put two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded with a swift, indrawn breath at the sight of the tears on her face. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, unable to speak around the sudden lump in her throat.

“Then what’s wrong? Tell me. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what I did.”

“Nothing.” She finally forced the word out past her too-tight throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you crying?” He touched a tender fingertip to her eye, brushed away a tear.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just too much. You know? Too much pleasure, too much emotion, too much . . . I don’t know how to say it.”

He nodded, settling back on the ground and pulling her body tightly against his. “I guess it’s pretty overwhelming, losing your virginity after nearly fifty years.”

“I think it’s more that it was pretty overwhelming losing my virginity to you.” She paused, embarrassed but wanting him to know how much his care meant to her. “You were really good to me. Thank you.”

“It was no hardship, believe me.” Twisting so that he was flat on his back and she was sprawled above him, he brought her mouth down to his. “You were pretty amazing yourself.”

She all but preened at the compliment. Laying her head on his chest, she listened to the steady beat of his heart. And told herself that for now—just for the next few minutes—the future could wait.

 

He didn’t want to get up. The realization hit Logan right about the time his brain truly started functioning again. Which, he was the first to admit, was quite a while after he’d finally managed to roll Cecily on top of him.

She felt good there, like she belonged, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this relaxed. Even in New Mexico, the closest place he’d ever had to a home, he was always on edge. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. How was it that lying here, with Cecily’s head pillowed on his chest and her fingers drawing small, feather-light circles around his navel, he was able to breathe? Just breathe.

By all rights, she was his enemy. If she knew who he really was, she wouldn’t get within a hundred yards of him, unless it was to plunge a dagger into his chest.

And yet it felt right to lie here like this, his arms wrapped around her, his legs tangled with hers, and a new erection rising insistently between them. God, she’d just about killed him, and already he was dying to get inside her again.

“Hey, what are you so pensive about?” she asked sleepily, her entire body wrapped around his, like she couldn’t stand the idea of letting him go. Normally, that was his cue to head for the hills, but he was already in the hills, and neither he nor his dragon were in any mood to go anywhere else.

He told himself it was because he needed her to make his plan work, but even as he made the excuse, he knew better. He wasn’t moving because cuddling with Cecily, just cuddling with her, felt better to him than sex had with any other woman.

It was a scary thought, one that he didn’t want to so much as acknowledge, let alone deal with, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. For now, he would just enjoy the afterglow, and for once let tomorrow take care of itself. Or not. There were worse things than dying after a bout of truly fantastic sex. He was just glad he hadn’t hurt her.

Cecily shivered as a light breeze blew past them, and he wiggled her around until they were both inside the sleeping bag and she was wrapped more securely in his arms.

She gave a little mew of complaint, then said, “I’m not a rag doll, you know.”

“I know,” he agreed, giving in to the urge to deliver a lingering kiss to her lips. “You’ve got too many curves for that.” He ran a hand over her lush ass to demonstrate the point. As he did, he tried to ignore how much he liked the fact that there wasn’t a part of her that he wasn’t touching.

“Yeah, well, no matter how much I exercise, I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

He jerked her back a little so he could look her fully in the face. “Why would you want to do that?” he asked, scandalized. “You look gorgeous the way you are.”

“Yeah, that’s me. A regular fashion plate.” There was an underlying bitterness to her words that was hard to ignore, but when he started to ask her what she meant, she shook her head. He frowned, not liking how easy it was for her to shut him out. He didn’t push it, though. How could he, when he had more secrets than the CIA?

In the end, he didn’t say anything and neither did she. Minutes passed, and still he felt no desire to put any distance between them. Instead, he just lay beneath her, stroking every part of her he could reach: her hair, her shoulder, the small of her back, her inner thigh. After a lifetime of harshness, he couldn’t get enough of her softness, and every part of her body seemed to hold some new mystery he wanted to explore.

In the end, though, his stomach growled, and she giggled. “I guess that’s my cue to get up, huh?” She pushed up to a sitting position, one that had her straddling his hips with the perfect heat of her sex resting right against his cock.

It took all his willpower not to grab her hips and guide her sweet pussy down over him. He was dying to be inside her again, but figured she’d probably had enough for a while. Because she was a dragon she healed quickly, but she hadn’t shifted yet. Nor had she eaten, neither of which was an optimum situation for healing. She was probably sore, especially since he hadn’t taken it easy on her at the end, despite his best intentions.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, but she wasn’t listening. Her eyes had gone all foggy and her breath broke as she rubbed herself against him.

He did groan then, and slid a finger into the soft nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. Found her clit and circled it gently with his finger.

“Logan,” she gasped, her hips rocking against his hand to increase the contact. “I need—”

“Ssh, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He pinched the small bundle of nerves between his thumb and middle finger, watching her face to figure out just how much pressure she needed. When she sucked her lower lip between her teeth to stifle a moan, he knew he had her, and he began to tap her clit softly with his index finger.

It took only a minute to bring her to the edge. And then with a twist of his wrist and the press of his palm against her sex, he took her all the way over, his eyes fastened on her beautiful face as he did so.

“God, they should bottle you,” she said a couple of minutes later as she slid off him onto the ground.

“I could return the compliment.” He held a hand out to her. “Need some help getting up?”

She laughed. “Getting up, staying up. My legs feel like Jell-O.”

“Trust me. I won’t let you fall.”