Moonlight on Nightingale Way (On Dublin Street 6)

“Are you wet for me yet?”

My lips parted at the shockingly stripped sexual question, and I felt my cheeks flush.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you’re wet for me, Grace.”

The demand only made me more so. “I’m wet for you,” I whispered.

The muscle in his jaw clenched with determination as Logan leaned over to unzip my trousers. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of them and my underwear and he tugged. I lifted my lower body, and he removed them with quick ease. Once he’d divested me of them, gently caressing my calves and outer thighs, he lowered my legs and opened them as he glided his hands up my inner thighs. He put a knee to the bed and moved up my body so he could slip two thick fingers slowly inside my channel. My knees fell open and I gasped at the sensation. He pulled them almost all the way out, and I tilted my hips to meet them as he slid them back into me.

“Logan,” I groaned, undulating against his touch. “Oh God, I need you.”

His fingers disappeared, and I snapped my eyes open to watch him. He got off the bed, his jaw taut with dwindling control, and pulled a condom out of his jeans pocket before removing them and his boxers. I watched, every inch of me on fire, my inner thighs trembling, my breathing harried, as he rolled the condom up his huge straining cock.

My legs fell open automatically as Logan lowered himself over my body, nudging against my center as his hard torso brushed against my breasts. He kissed me gently, trailing his fingertips up my outer thigh in a way that caused me more shivers and hot impatience.

My hips jerked at the touch of his thumb on my clit, and he growled possessively from the back of his throat. And then he was kissing me, a series of wet and drugging kisses as he played with my clit. I touched him, too, caressing his shoulders, his back, his abs, strumming at his nipples in a way that made him shudder and press harder on my clit.

When he slipped two fingers inside me again, I broke the kiss, moaning as my back arched into his caress.

“You are so fucking sexy.” He peppered kisses along my jaw as he thrust his fingers in and out. “The things I’m going to do to you, babe. I’m going to make you mine, every single piece of you.” Our eyes locked, his filled with sexual promise. “No holds barred, Grace. Not with me. I’m going to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow, and you’re going to let me.”

My belly squeezed and my inner muscles clamped around his fingers. Logan’s eyes darkened and he pressed them deeper inside me. His voice lowered and he leaned down to brush his mouth softly over mine. “But right now I’m going to make love to you.”

Tears sprang to my eyes at the vow in his voice. A vow for so much more than great sex. I wrapped my arms around his back, sliding my hands over his smooth, hot skin. “Come inside me, Logan.” I whispered the invitation, and there was so much more in it that I meant to give. Logan heard it, and triumph gleamed in his eyes.

His fingers slipped out of me, and his hands circled my wrists. He raised my arms above my head and tightened his hold on me. Looking deeply into my eyes, he moved. I felt him hot and hard against my center, and then suddenly there was pressure as he pushed inside, eased by my slickness. He surged deep in me, his hands moving up from my wrists so his fingers could tangle through mine. Like this, he held me as he gently rocked inside me, taunting me toward climax and then yanking me back.

“Faster,” I pleaded.

A smile tugged at Logan’s lips. “We’re making love, Grace.”

“We can make love” – I panted – “a little faster.”

I raised my hips to punctuate my point, and Logan slammed back into me. I cried out at the deliciously growing pressure building inside of me. His teeth gritted, his muscles straining as his thrusts came harder, but he maintained an excruciatingly slow pace. He let go of my wrists to cup my arse, tilting me higher so he could slide in deeper. My hands gripped tight to his hips in response.

Our eyes stayed connected the whole time, the power of the intimacy between us overwhelming in its intensity.

The feeling inside me was building upward in a spiral, coiling tighter and tighter until my whole body tensed over a cliff edge. His fingers dug into my arse, his hips jerking harder and faster against mine as we neared what we were desperately reaching for.

One more push. “Logan,” I pleaded.

Another.

“Ohhh —” The tension inside of me exploded, an orgasm unlike any I’d ever had before flowing through me.

My lower body shuddered against Logan’s, and I watched as he stiffened, his neck arched, his teeth gritted, and his eyes flared with fierce pleasure as his own climax moved through him. He jerked against me, his hold on me almost painful as he came.

Logan’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Those extraordinary eyes of his washing over my face as I lay there, my muscles warm and languid from the most amazing orgasm of my life.

“Trust me yet?” he said between pants.

I smiled at his sneakiness. “Don’t ask me serious questions when I’m on a post-orgasm high, Logan MacLeod.”

He grinned and settled over me, cupping my face with his hands. His lips brushed over mine softly, my mouth tingling at the gentle touch. “How many orgasms do you think it will take to get you to trust me?”

I giggled. “Hmm… I don’t know if orgasms are the way to go regarding trust. Addiction… yes.”

“Addiction?” He raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “First addiction, then trust?”

I opened my mouth to argue the complete lack of sense in that and then I frowned. “Why am I arguing about this?” I threw my arms out wide and let my legs fall farther open. “Ply me with orgasms if you think it will do the trick.”