Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Sweat gathered across my flesh.
I flopped around onto my stomach, pressed my face to the pillow, and groaned.
With all of me, I tried to will it away.
It throbbed and grew.
Flinging myself onto my back, I tossed off the covers in search of cool.
It only caressed and murmured.
Crap.
I pressed my eyes tight in a vain attempt at blocking the onslaught.
Wave upon wave of the need I’d repressed.
Seven years.
Seven years.
No longer dormant.
Lying there, I swore I could actually feel the soft press of Logan’s thumb turning my nipple to a hardened, sensitive peak. Could hear the growl in his throat. Could sense the need radiating from his pores.
It was a battle I couldn’t win, and my fingertips were running over the same breast where he’d touched me, where he’d stoked that fire that I was afraid could not be doused.
Alive.
Every nerve.
Every cell.
I panted a soft breath as I gave over to the sensation. To the fantasy of a man I had no business fantasizing about.
Visions of those green eyes spread through my mind like tendrils that sank in and took root.
Beautiful depths and darkened hollows.
In that moment, I was no longer Jarek Urso’s wife, nor was I Andres Costa’s oldest daughter.
I was his.
His.
A phantom touch slipped down my belly, and I bit down on my lip to suppress a moan when I let my fingertips follow the perception. My knees angled and my feet slid up to plant on the bed.
Everything shook when the silky material of my gown slipped high, and my fingers crept beneath my lacy underwear.
My fingers dipped lower. Brushed over my engorged clit.
Chills raced.
A forewarning of bliss.
I stopped fighting the need and let my mind drift away to a better time.
To the places where we’d hide away, where he’d love me in the shadows and beneath the night.
Where the heavens watched down over us like a vigilant embrace.
Our time secreted away.
Forbidden but right.
I whimpered as my thumb circled that throbbing bud, and I held back the tiniest cry as I pressed my fingers into my body.
The air crackled. The room shook. The oxygen grew thin.
I froze when I was hit with the awareness.
With the distinct sensation that I was not alone.
Heart battering at my ribs, my eyes snapped open to find the dark form standing just inside the bedroom door.
My throat closed off as his presence swept over me like a drug.
I prayed I was hallucinating, that I’d been foolish enough to invite the memories into the here and now and they were messing with my head. But I was sure there was no way I could make up the reverberation that rumbled the ground when he clicked the door shut behind him and edged my way.
Each step measured.
Purposed.
His foreboding shape was silhouetted in the middle of the room, the man smoke, as if he were both solid and didn’t exist.
I pressed my knees together like I could pretend he hadn’t just walked in on me touching myself to the echo of who we once had been.
It didn’t matter—I could feel the searing of his gaze.
Fire burned me alive.
I wanted to die.
To turn to vapor.
To exist in his hands.
Everything was silent except for the ravaging of my heart, the blood that whooshed through my veins, and the rasps that panted from my mouth.
Finally, I managed to push the jagged words from my lips. “What are you doing in here?”
Even though I couldn’t make out his face, I could feel the piercing of his eyes as he stared at me where I writhed on the bed.
“I needed to see you.”
I shivered at the possession in his statement.
“Why?”
“To know that you’re whole. That you’re here. That you’re mine.”
My throat nearly closed off. “Logan.”
It was a plea that had no clue what it was begging for.
“Do you want me to leave?” There was a tremor in his question.
I couldn’t make the right answer form on my tongue. Not when my mouth had gone dry, and I could barely squeeze oxygen into my lungs.
The atmosphere thickened.
Dense.
Every cell combustible.
Hinging on tonight.
When I didn’t answer, he stepped forward into the milky rays of moonlight that slanted in through the window.
I gasped when I saw him. There was a deep cut that had split open his bottom lip and blood and grime saturated his shirt.
“You’re hurt.” I shot upright as horror filled my spirit. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t bring him danger.
He gave a harsh shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
I tried to swallow, to stop the spread of flames, the crackle in the air. “How can you say that?”
“Because I’m here…standing in front of you right now.”
My feet were still planted on the mattress, my knees bent, the slip bunched up around my thighs. My hand was fisted in the material over my stomach.
Logan came to stand at the end of the bed. He winced once as he moved, guarding his side as he gritted through the movement.