Min gazed at Logan kneeling between her legs. The reality was so much better than the brief fantasy she’d had earlier. On his knees before her? Desire rampaged, sending her scruples to the outer edge of the universe. His fingers skated up the inside of her thighs, swirling up and down in a teasing pattern, inching closer, then back again. All she could think was that she was so freaking glad she was wearing a skirt.

She’d just have this. Just take this. A quick, quiet come.

Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself? If she was going to be stuck beside him for the next few days, she might as well get something out of it. And she already knew how good it was going to be. Why not take something for herself, something as simple as pleasure? It wasn’t like she was going to fall in love with him or anything. She might as well maximise the benefits of this mad arrangement. Oh yeah, she could so justify this.

Who was she kidding, she’d been his the moment she’d seen him standing there in nothing but those long shorts, his hair and skin damp from sweat and rain.

And now?

She watched as he leaned closer. She felt the warmth of his breath as he bent, letting his tongue follow the same tantalizing pattern as his fingers.

Ohhhh... kaaaay.

She shifted a little in her seat. He reached up and grabbed her hips, pulled her butt to the very edge of the chair. She leaned back and let him. Gripped the armrests for all she was worth.

Because those tantalizing touches... licks... were working their way higher. She bit her lip as he worked slowly up.

Yeah. She wanted him there. To strip away that remaining covering and touch her where she was already wet. To suck her like he’d promised. She tensed, anticipating it, on a knife-edge. Desire ratcheted super-quick. Closer, then retreat. Closer again. Another retreat.

Min circled her hips in impatience. Heard his light chuckle. He’d better not stop—

At that moment he brushed both thumbs across the front of her panties. A firm swipe right over her core and outwards.

She jerked in the chair. Delighted but frustrated. She wanted those panties off. She wanted those thumbs rubbing against her skin. Those fingers slipping inside.

He smiled up at her and she was lost. Those cool-yet-burning ice blue eyes? That fallen angel smile with that cynical twist? What woman could resist? What woman would want to? But she was taking, right? This was within her control.

As he bent forward and pressed his open mouth to her core, she closed her eyes and arched to meet him.

Oh sweet mercy.

She bucked under the heat. Even through the cotton she felt the strength in each lick of his tongue, the tease as his fingers skimmed over her cleft, drawing desire from her. She squirmed, wanting more. So much more.

His fingers found a rhythm. She rocked, meeting him. Urging him. Her blood ran like quicksilver, burning through her system, carrying desire to every inch. Her skin tingled. She ached for more of the touches. For all of the touches. For him to cover her completely. Naked. Hard. For him to hold her. Take her.

But she bit back the moan, the plea circling inside her head.

Suck me, suck me. Fuck me.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t let that out. Couldn’t spoil the moment.

“You’re hot,” he murmured. “You might be quiet, but you’re hotter than hell.” He nuzzled her again. “And wet.” He groaned. “And you want me.”

“I w-want an orgasm,” she corrected, finally breaking her silence with a faint whisper.

“Ah.” He rubbed his thumb harder over her nub. Despite being blinded by her panties, the man knew his way round a woman’s anatomy. “Well, what the lady wants, the lady gets.”

The lady wanted more. The lady wanted him naked and pumping.

But she clamped her mouth shut. No sexy pleas from her—the stutter would only worsen the more excited she became.

That wasn’t happening. She was never having that happen to her again. She bit the inside of her cheek to ensure it.

A smile twisted his lips. “Minx.” But then he bent to her again.

She gripped the armrests tightly, trying to release the tension from her body that way. His stubbled jaw rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with delicious roughness. Not painfully, but with just enough roughness to make her hyper aware of his masculinity. Of his strength. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, bumping her pelvis against his face. Her butt was clenched so tight her glutes were aching. Orgasm was a lick away. And he knew it.

“Come then, Ms Jones,” he said.

He sucked cotton-covered clit into his hot mouth. The wet fabric made the friction slightly harder. So good. So not enough.

And at the same time he pumped his fingers against the cotton barrier, exactly over her entrance, simulating penetration.

But there was no damn penetration.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed. Wanted...

But at that moment, pleasure radiated out in waves, almost a pain, impossible to contain. She jerked. He moved swiftly, clamping his other hand under her butt to hold her up to him. Not letting her pull back—making her take the twin onslaught of his mouth and fingers.

She twisted up, instinctively drawing her knees in together, only his big body blocked them. She clenched every muscle so, so tight as unbearable pleasure shuddered through her. A torrent of sensation. Again, again, again.

She gritted her teeth, holding it all in. That sheer bliss.

But as the ecstasy subsided, an emptiness remained.

She’d never had such a prolonged orgasm. Never peaked so quickly. And she’d never been left feeling so unsatisfied. She clenched hard on her inner muscles. That vacancy unfulfilled. She’d wanted him inside her—part of him. Fingers, tongue, cock. Any would have done. The orgasm was fantastic, but only an appetizer. She wanted the main course. And dessert.

Not going to happen.

Her jaw ached from the intensity with which she’d bitten down to hold back her sounds. Her body chilled.

He sat back on his heels, giving her the little bit of space she needed to pull her scattered wits together.

She brushed her skirt down and drew in a deep breath, not daring to look at him. How the hell was she going to handle him now? She couldn’t. Maybe she’d just take a second and pretend it hadn’t happened.

“What else do we have to d-d-do tonight?” She couldn’t look at him.

But she heard his little laugh.

“This is the way you’re going to play it?”

“What other way is there?” She glanced back and smiled at him sweetly, because that hint of disbelief in his tone had given her a shot of confidence. Vixen confidence. She had taken on temptation and survived. Maybe she could handle him. This way. “I’m satisfied. Isn’t that what you wanted?” She let her glance graze the erection tenting his shorts.

He didn’t try to hide it. He stood and his hands on his hips only served to accentuate the strained material. He chuckled, a deep sound of masculine appreciation. “I quite like you.”

“That’s nice,” she answered as blandly as she could, which was slightly problematic given she was still panting. “Given I’m your fiancée I suppose its fortunate.” She drew in another shaky breath. “But I thought you weren’t going to k-k-kiss me until I asked you to.”

“It wasn’t a kiss on the mouth…” he pointed out. But at her knife-sharp glance he merely shrugged. “Clearly I can’t be trusted.”

Chills feathered over her heated skin. Good point. A guy like Logan couldn’t be trusted. This was just sex for him, nothing but fun. He definitely was not the kind of guy who could restrain his impulses. Soon enough he’d have an impulse to kiss some other woman. He’d already admitted he’d cheated once. And look at her mother’s ex-husbands. Two of the three had cheated and they were like Logan, wealthy and spoiled and used to having anything and anyone they wanted. Well that was okay.

Because Min wasn’t marrying Logan. There was zip commitment here. And she wasn’t sleeping with him either.

“What are you thinking?” He remained right beside her, watching her. “You’re very quiet.”

“Nothing.” She spared him a quick glance.

His lips tightened. “Not big on expressing your emotions are you?”

“Not true. You know when I’m angry.” She couldn’t stand being so near him any longer. Pushing her chair out, she stood and walked through to the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

He followed and poured her a glass of water handing it to her without a word. She unashamedly drank the entire glass in one long swallow.

“You looked like you needed it,” he said, looking even more pleased.

He thought he’d won. In truth, he had won. The smug satisfaction annoyed her. But she could play this like the game he thought it was, right?

So she shrugged, like it had all been nothing. “Look,” she set her glass on the steel counter. “You can make me c-c-come all you want. I don’t mind.” She really didn’t. “But don’t go thinking there’ll be anything else happening. You’re not g-getting inside me.”

“You don’t mind?” His eyebrows shot to his hairline and he gave a shout of laughter. But he walked forward, so she was stuck between him and the kitchen counter. His arms were a cage. “So you’re willing to let me arouse you? Tease you? Taste you?”

“Sure.” She swallowed. “But I’m not having sex with you.”

“Isn’t what we just did a type of sex?” His eyes widened. “Why that boundary?”

“You have it too easy,” she said, trying to look bored, like she was so not bothered by his bare chest. “We originally agreed on six months celibacy.”

“Okaaaay.” He sounded amused. “So how do we define celibacy?”

“No p-penetrative sex.” She blinked up at him. “Don’t you think?”

“So that’s it? Anything else is ok? Oral sex? What about my tongue, my fingers? Sex toys?”

She stifled her squirm and made herself swallow to ease the dryness in her mouth and throat that had returned in that flash of heat. Aroused again in a heartbeat. But maybe this was the perfect idea. “No to toys I think.”


Tags: Natalie Anderson Be for Me Erotic