SevenSensuousDays (13 page)

Never had Tessa seen a man in more despair than him. Or more
determined to fight it with sheer will and bravado. His walls were back up,
higher than ever.

He wanted to have a good time, nothing more. No intimacy.
Not even a brief friendship.

Although it pained her to hear that, Tessa understood where
he was coming from. She moved into him at last, cupping his face, bringing his
mouth down to hers. Her kiss wasn’t tender, not as she would have liked, but
demanding, greedy, wanton. Exactly as Logan thought he needed. She drove her
tongue more deeply into his mouth and wound her arms around his torso, her
palms on his back.

He went rigid at her touching his scars.

He’d claimed they didn’t hurt any longer. Tessa wanted him
to know that she’d heard him. She wouldn’t offer sympathy that would make him
feel less a man…that would bring back all of the bad. She’d offer pure, raw
sex.

He didn’t want more. Who could blame him, least of all her?
She’d been hurt too. Not as much as he’d been, but she knew what it was like to
feel inadequate. The only cure Tessa had found was to keep going, hoping the
next man she met would find her attractive.

Logan had in spades. He’d given her confidence.

For that, she’d always be grateful to him.

She pulled him closer and wrapped her leg around his, her
tongue exploring his mouth, sweeping over his teeth.

A growl poured from him, lusty and deep. He cupped her ass,
drawing her pussy into his stiffened cock, then took command of their kiss. His
bristly cheeks scoured hers, his tongue penetrating and exploring her mouth. He
enjoyed her with such abandon—no longer Mr. Nice Guy—that when he finally let
go, Tessa gulped air.

“More,” he demanded.

He regarded her through hooded lids, his hair hanging over
his forehead, shoulders bunched with sexual tension.

Tessa wanted to smooth back his locks, trace his mouth with
her fingertips, offering him peace that had eluded him for too long.

He wouldn’t accept it, of course. He’d made that quite
clear. Wanting only to please him, she ran her hands down his torso, using his
body to steady herself as she sank down. Her face was on the same level as his
cock. She kissed his dark bush, inhaling his beloved scent as she fumbled with
the bows on her sandals, at last untying them. With her palm on his flat belly,
she straightened and slipped out of her shoes.

Without the added height, the top of her head came to his
shoulder.

Tessa licked his right nipple, then his left, recording the
bumpy areola, the small firm tip.

His chest expanded with his deep breath. She sensed he
wanted to say something. Give a command. Break down and talk.

He didn’t.

Neither did she, moving past him, her arm deliberately
brushing his. The many mirrors showed his reflection, him turning to see what
she was doing, studying her naked ass and thighs. Seeing her flaws, clearly not
considering them as such.

His cock was even longer, thicker than a moment ago.

The shower’s glass door rattled slightly as she swung it
open. The area was spacious enough for a party of ten. Gold showerheads graced
the far end of both walls. Tessa turned them on, adjusting the numerous dials
until each flow resembled a spring rain and was warm as a womb. She sniffed the
bars of soap, choosing the one that smelled of pine, as fresh as the outdoors.
Rubbing it between her hands to work up lather, Tessa turned and waited.

Yielding. Submissive. A slave to his pleasure.

He closed the glass door, sealing them in the warm, fragrant
space. This time when he approached, his expression was downright predatory.

Tessa sidestepped him. They turned, slowly circling each
other beneath the spray, their hair, faces, and bodies drenched, their focus
never drifting.

Logan arched one dark eyebrow. Pearls of water dropped from
it. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing…yet. Face the wall.” Tessa lowered her head,
affecting a servile pose. “Please.”

She might as well have asked him to bear his heart to her,
no restraints, no secrets, or emotions held back. He looked that uncomfortable.
She expected him to tell her “no”, or to leave. It was certainly his choice.

He did neither. With poise that contradicted what must have
been going on inside him, Logan did as she asked—arms to each side above his
head, palms on the slick coffee-colored marble, his feet spread.

Tessa swallowed at the terrible harm done to his beautiful
body. Worse, to his hope and joy. She wanted to kiss each scar to somehow make
it better. The remaining skin, or grafts, was stretched and shiny, like a raw
wound.

He looked over.

Before he could ask what in the hell she was doing or
thinking, Tessa eased lather over his uninjured skin and then the scarring,
favoring neither, her only intent to arouse.

Logan’s shoulders dipped a bit, the tension leeching in
degrees from his body. He rested his forehead against the marble, a mosaic of
brown, gold and cream. Understated yet impressive, though no match for his male
beauty.

Tessa washed his back and buttocks, exploring his sinewy
muscles, his decided masculinity. On her knees, she tended to the backs of his
hairy thighs, listening intently to every sound he made. There were a few
contented puffs, as though he’d been holding his breath without realizing it,
and then a sharp intake of air as she slid her hand between his legs and
cradled his balls.

He lifted his heels from the damp floor and brought them
down with an audible tap. “Damn.”

This time, Tessa gave in to tenderness, kissing the left
side of his ass, his injury. He didn’t appear to notice what part of him she’d
chosen. She hadn’t expected him to, given how she fondled his balls. As she
continued caressing them, she’d lifted her free hand to the furrow between his
cheeks. Her finger circled his anus.

He wiggled a bit, then surprised her by spreading his legs
even more. Inviting her bold touch.

Tessa gave it. Squeezing his sac gently, working the tip of
her finger past his tight ring of flesh, suckling his ass, the ravaged skin not
bothering her because it was a part of him.

If only he could have felt the same.

Not that she was in a position to judge. Even though he
clearly didn’t mind her imperfections, Tessa was still all too aware of them.

Her intimacies with his ruined skin finally proved more than
Logan could bear. “Enough.”

His gruff manner didn’t fool Tessa. Nor did the fact that he’d
moved to the side, away from her.

Sitting back on her heels, her thighs spread, she lifted her
face and watched his retreat. He took a moment to calm his breathing, then
turned to face her. Water dripped from his long lashes, the tip of his nose and
chin.

Tessa reached for the soap, to continue washing him.

Before she could grab the bar, he sank to his knees and
pushed her down, then unfolded his body over hers. With her legs wrapped around
his lean hips, Tessa gave herself to him freely, fully. She understood and
accepted that at this moment he didn’t want her to see his scars. Nor did he
want to talk. He demanded nothing except sex, entering her with one savage
thrust.

Tessa cried out in delight, grateful to have this…to simply
be with him.

Logan covered her mouth with his, muting the noises she
made, demanding silence and acquiescence to all he craved, no matter how
salacious or fleeting. What he’d paid for.

A pleasure slave. An escort.

He was content finally. Fucking floating on air. Enjoying a
whole lot of indulgence, then blessed peace.

During the following day, Logan gave Tessa none of it. Peace
that is. He couldn’t seem to get as physically close as he required, touch her
enough to slake his carnal hunger. With his erotic fantasies set free, he used
his silk ties to secure her wrists and ankles, knotting the ends around the
squat legs of the pool’s chaise lounge, leaving her spread eagle. Trapped. His.

It was another flawless afternoon, just a few wispy clouds,
the air sweet and wonderfully mild. He’d positioned one of the large umbrellas
so the sun didn’t touch Tessa’s skin. Had to protect his lady since he hadn’t
rubbed her down with suntan lotion. She was fully bared and vulnerable, wearing
nothing except her belly gems. Logan hadn’t even allowed her to put on any
makeup, telling her earlier that she didn’t need it.

She’d rolled her eyes. “I think you need glasses.”

Slapping her ass playfully, he’d said, “It’s what I want.
You naked, except for this.” He’d fingered her jewelry.

She’d submitted to his preferences and now looked up at him
from her prison, arms above her head, legs spread wide. The chaise’s seafoam green
cushion complemented her eyes, though it was no match for their beauty. Her
mussed hair was a pale cloud around her face, making her seem both innocent and
sexy beyond belief.

Logan stared at her for minutes, taking sips of his beer as
he padded around the chaise to get a better view of her pinkish nipples and the
delicate folds between her legs. His scrutiny excited her as much as it did
him. A flush covered her chest, throat, and cheeks. He witnessed the first hint
of moisture dampening her cunt, preparing it for him.

Not yet.

Not for a long while.

He dropped another cushion next to her chaise, using it to
protect his knees as he leaned over and carefully separated her vaginal lips,
exposing her clit.

Tessa’s back arched. She dug her heels into the foam pad to
lift her ass, bringing her cunt closer to him. Wanting this.

She wasn’t acting, putting on an escort show, and Logan
certainly appreciated the gesture. However, he wasn’t of a mind to give Tessa
the release she needed. Not right away. He suckled the insides of her thighs
until her breathing picked up. The moment it had, he traced the length and
contours of her cleft with the tip of his tongue.

She wiggled in response, wanting him on the right spot, her
needy nub.

He took his time, approaching it slowly, finally giving it
one quick lick.

Tessa inhaled sharply.

Didn’t sway Logan one bit, not as far as increasing his
pace. He licked and suckled her leisurely, appreciating the hint of soap on her
skin. A light flowery fragrance, the same as her perfume. One of the things she’d
packed in her luggage.

That and her toothbrush were all he’d allowed her to take
out. Preferring her au naturel, especially her female scent. Musky and wanton.

Before he was through, she’d smell as he wanted her to, but
he didn’t rush toward that goal. He tended to her with the same patience and
determination he’d employed to get through his exercises in the early days
after his injury. When it came to endurance, he was a master at it.

Tessa was a mere baby.

She panted and cried, “What are you doing? Let me come.
Please.”

He didn’t, having stopped just shy of her climaxing. Her
breasts and belly wiggled with her thrashing. Her fingers were fisted, toes
curled, teeth gritted. She tugged on the ties around her wrists, no doubt wanting
to be free so she could masturbate herself into sexual nirvana.

Her bonds held.

Logan enjoyed more of his beer, watching, waiting until she
settled down. It didn’t come quickly or easily. Beads of perspiration dotted
her temples. One drop wiggled from her neck to her shoulder, then slid out of
sight.

“You okay?” he asked mildly.

She whined, “I want to come.”

“You will.” He lowered his bottle to one of the
salmon-colored flagstones. The glass made a small tapping sound against the
hard surface. Tessa pulled in a great deal of air as Logan suckled the inside
of her thigh, while also thumbing her clit.

That got her going again, but in no way matched her response
when he latched onto her pussy, carefully holding her nub between his teeth,
giving her no chance of escape. He licked, licked, licked the precious little
thing, then stopped abruptly once more.

Tessa grunted, groaned, cursed.

None of it influenced Logan. He tormented her steadily and
mercilessly until she couldn’t resist his dominance any longer. She had no
choice and knew it. He demanded and she yielded.

With her limbs sprawled over the cushions, Tessa panted as
though she’d run all the way to the caretaker’s house and back.

She was ready, and Logan finally allowed her to climax,
driving her over the edge. All of her lassitude faded in a moment. She cried
out loudly enough to frighten a couple of birds. They took off from their
perches within the trees, rustling the leaves even more than the light wind.
Tessa added to the noise, thrashing, groaning, and cursing once more as Logan
continued to stroke her clit.

At length, she had no more strength and collapsed, her fight
gone, her body finally his. He stopped then. Watching her color return to its
normal shade and her breaths quieting was the best reward Logan could have
imagined.

When Tessa at last opened her eyes, she regarded him with
awe, as though he’d just invented sex and let her in on its wonders. “Oh shit,”
she gushed. “Do it again.”

Logan warned himself not to laugh, not wanting her to think
he was making fun. Her joy was a gift he hadn’t imagined. “In a minute.”

He climbed on the chaise, his hair swinging forward, his
full focus on her. Tessa’s mouth went soft and willing, begging for a kiss.
Ignoring her need and his, Logan untied her wrists.

She frowned at them and him. “What are you doing?”

Logan had already twisted around to free her ankles, aware
that he was giving her a good view of his back in the pitiless outside light,
telling himself he didn’t care. Tessa was here to see to his pleasure.

Once her legs were free, he pushed her knees toward her
torso so he had full access to her pussy. As he’d done in the shower earlier,
Logan now mounted her missionary style, thrusting deep, his mouth sagging open
at how awesome she felt.

A lengthy purr escaped her. She cupped his face in her hands
and brought his lips down to hers.

“Do it again,”
she’d said.

They kissed as though the world were coming to an end, then
screwed like crazy on the chaise. It was a fucking surprise they didn’t break
the damn thing. When they were finished and the breeze died down to a whisper,
allowing the insects to return and bother them, Logan hauled Tessa from the
cushion, then over his shoulder.

She stiffened. “Wait.”

He looked over and got a great view of her ass. “Why?”

Even as he asked, he thought about his scarred back, the
fact that her face was now against it.

“I’m too heavy,” she said.

Logan caught her embarrassment, surprised, saddened and
angered by it.

“Bullshit,” he growled. “Don’t ever think that. And never
say it again.” He smacked her ass to let her know he meant business.

“You’re sure?” She sounded anything but.

He slapped her ass again.

“Guess you are,” she mumbled, then cupped his buttocks,
squeezing them.

All right then. With that settled, he carried her back into
the house to a blur of pleasure. Kissing. Suckling. Fondling. More fucking.

It wasn’t until much, much later—when he rolled over—that
Logan realized he was in his bed, sprawled across the mattress, his left foot
tangled in the sheets. Bleary-eyed, he looked around dumbly, trying to figure
out how he’d gotten here and when. Sun spilled through the windows, the angle
odd, as though it were rising in the west rather than the east.

Couldn’t be setting.

What in the hell had happened to the rest of yesterday
and all of today?

The last Logan recalled—after he’d carried Tessa into the
house and went at her in every hall and room he could manage—it had been
getting dark outside. He’d set up his four camcorders in the master bedroom’s
closet with its fragrant cedar walls and endless expanse of mirrors, no
different from the bath. The area was almost as large as the kitchen, giving
him enough space to also set up several of his larger computer monitors. At the
very center of everything was a mahogany island with numerous drawers for his
underwear, socks, whatever he wanted to put there.

Tessa had regarded the scene with building excitement, but
also a bit of trepidation. It was in the way she stared at the monitors.

“You’ll look great,” he assured.

She turned to him. “As long as you think so.”

“I do.” He frowned. “You’re luscious.”

She blushed.

Seeing her embarrassment, not knowing what to do about it,
Logan asked, “You ready?”

She nodded, and went to the island where he’d directed all
of the camcorders. Without him telling her, she folded her arms over the
polished wood and lifted her ass, inviting him to use her.

Logan turned on his equipment, adjusting it. Tessa’s blush
deepened when the images of her face, breasts, and openings appeared on the
numerous screens.

“You still ready?” he murmured, touching her cheek.

Tessa turned her face into his hand and licked his palm.

He grinned.

She whispered, “What are you waiting for?”

Damned if he knew. From another table, Logan grabbed the
tube of lubricant he’d purchased when he knew Tessa was coming here. He placed
it on the island next to her arm, letting her know what he intended.

She licked her lips.

God, she was something.

With his attention torn between her openings and the
monitors, he spread the lubricant on her anus, working it inside, mesmerized at
how hot and narrow her passage was.

She wiggled and huffed out a sigh.

Outrageous lust tightened his throat. He choked out his
words. “Feel good?”

“Different…nice.”

It wasn’t a lie. The camcorder to the left captured her
expression. The way her lids fluttered and her delicate nostrils widened
slightly as he continued to prepare her.

Finished, he tossed the tube on the island. It whapped
briefly against the wood, then skittered close to the edge without falling off.

Her tightest opening was slick as could be, her cunt oh-so
damp with her arousal. His cock responded, stiffening even more. His balls
tightened to the point that they actually hurt, warning him that he needed to
unload. Empty those suckers out.

He penetrated her sheath first, much to Tessa’s surprise. He
saw her reaction on the screen. Her response didn’t last. Her expression grew
distracted, glazed with longing as he rubbed her clit.

Tessa’s inner muscles tightened around him. She fisted her
fingers and dropped her head.

“No,” Logan said, the word strained, the same as his
breathing. He had trouble thinking, considering how her cunt’s tightness held
and warmed him. “Lift your head. I want to see your face.”

Tessa groaned, but did as he demanded.

She looked as far gone as he was. Ready for anything.

He pumped and stroked until she squished her features,
signaling her coming orgasm. Before it arrived, Logan pulled out, the screen
showing her moisture glistening on his shaft, the ruddiness of his crown.

“No, no, no,” she complained, “don’t stop.”

He wasn’t. He brought his cock to her tightest opening and
worked the bulbous crown inside.

Tessa’s jaw hung down.

“You okay?” he panted, praying she was.

She swallowed, then pleaded, “Don’t stop again. Not a single
freaking thing you’re doing now. Keep going.”

On a relieved sigh, Logan continued fingering her clit while
he tunneled his cock inside her, going as deep as he could until their bodies
touched.

They both heaved air.

He watched her struggle to pay attention to the monitors,
viewing the action. Logan couldn’t look at them enough, especially the one that
showed his rigid shaft sliding in and out of her, an act so completely
intimate, so shameless, it made him feel invincible again, as he had when he’d
been a teen. Reckless with desire.

He took what he wanted and so did Tessa, both of them using
each other to reach their goals. Logan held off as long as he could, a scant
couple of minutes. It seemed like months. Tessa must have thought so too
because she wailed when her orgasm hit, while he howled.

His legs and arms shook as though an electric current were
zipping through him. She rolled her forehead over the wood.

Logan didn’t have to ask if it’d been good. They were both
seriously wasted from indulging in the best drug of all—sex. When he finally
gathered enough strength to pull out of her, he quickly gathered Tessa into his
arms, thanking her with his embrace and kisses.

She accepted all he had to give, not hesitating in the least
to touch every part of him as though he were whole, normal.

Behaving nothing at all like the other escorts he’d hired
when loneliness had finally forced him to do so. Those women had seen to his
every need as Tessa had, yet he’d sensed their discomfort when it came to his
scars. They’d looked away from him too quickly, their hands stalling just short
of the grafts before actually touching them…the few times they had. They
prattled on and on about what they were going to do to him, how they’d make
their time together the widest, most satisfying night of his life.

Not a one had asked him if his injuries still hurt.

He hadn’t expected or wanted them to. They were with him
because his nights had finally become too overwhelming to face without someone
else at his side, even a stranger. Hell, he’d preferred that. A woman he’d paid
for and expected nothing from except for a good time. How much safer that was
than getting involved in the least. Building a family. What he thought would be
a safe home.