Page 107 of Betrothed in Fury
“Of course I will,” I reply, only giving his flesh a moment’s peace before my mouth, lips, tongue, and teeth keep busy toying with him.
“Will you fuck me in it all the time?”
“As much as you need.”
“Will you make me unbearably happy?”
“I’ll give you everything you need and want.” As he moans, I feel a profound sense of satisfaction. It sweeps through me so quickly, I have to catch my breath. “I didn’t realize that just as soon as you surrendered to me, I too would utterly surrender to you.”
I nibble at his throat again, and he bows his head back, offering it up to me.
I slide my hand to the back of his jeans, tucking it beneath his briefs, getting a feel of that perfect ass, only being stopped at the desk. My cock stiffens, crimping in the crotch of my pants in a way that annoys and excites me at the same time, and instinctively, he reaches down and feels my cock.
He tucks his head against my cheek, whispering, “Bet you want to fuck me right now.”
Even the suggestion has adrenaline coursing through me, my thoughts struggling to focus on anything other than his flesh and scent, and there’s a deep pain in my gut. “I don’t understand how I’ve had you so many times and it’s still not enough. Or why it hurts not to be inside you.”
He rests his hand against the side of my face and tilts it so I look up at him. “I hope it hurts when you’re not in me because it hurts not being filled with you.”
As he claims my mouth again, I stoop down, hooking my arms around his thighs. I lift and shove him onto the desk, spreading his legs and serving his ass up to me as I rub my crotch against it.
“Damn these clothes,” I growl into his mouth, and he snickers. “I don’t see what’s so fucking funny about you making me ache like this.”
“This doesn’t seem familiar? Remind you of…”
My thoughts return to that beautiful day when we tussled in my study. “When you needed me to fuck you on my desk?”
“When you took me against my will on your desk.”
I pull away, wincing. “Don’t play.”
He’s all smirk and confidence. “You love when I play.”
“You’re not wrong.”
I kiss along his neck.
“No, don’t, Killian,” he breathes. “We must finish packing. Don’t take me right here. Don’t, no.”
Just like those early sessions with him, it’s as clear as always that Logan’sno, don’tmeanshurry the hell up and take what’s yours.
“We really do need to pack,” I say, straining to get the words out when I can feel myself leaking already. I growl, frustrated at the thought of waiting.
“It’ll be good for you to wait,” he assures me. “It’ll make you that much hungrier for my ass.”
He nibbles at my bottom lip, and now my cock is painfully hard, but he’s right. If he’s going to be cruel like this, then that’ll make it more fun later.
“I don’t have to be happy about this,” I tell him.
“Not just yet, at least.” His words are a promise of what will come later.
As I grin, a sound catches our attention. We turn together sharply, those quick instincts we’ve developed through our traumatic lives. The same ones that are likely the reason we’re still alive.
His brother Rory stands in the doorway, cringing. “Oh God,” he groans. “You mind getting it together so thatwe’renot doing all the work?”
“We’ve been working,” Logan says. “We just had a little break.”
I’m growling, which catches Logan’s attention.
