Page 54 of Kings Fear No One
“Yeah… I am…” His gaze wanders over me.
I strut—or do my best interpretation of a strut—into the kitchen, trying to be sexy. Desirable.
Both things I’ve never felt or known how to be.
I’ve never been the sexy woman. I’ve always been too intimidated, too fearful and compliant with the beliefs instilled in me.
That was reserved for my husband and my husband only—when I did finally get married. I just never counted on it happening so soon.
Logan sits down at the table, his body language lax. Every move I make is studied. He can’t take his eyes off me.
Go for it.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I forget about dinner. I strut toward the dining table with swaying hips and an expression I hope is flirtatious. Logan leans back in his chair as I plant myself in his lap. It’s as if he wants to protest but can’t bring himself to. I slide onto his lap and come in closer, trailing a finger along his rough beard.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” I murmur.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I answer, a spark of adrenaline shooting through me. I rock my hips back and forth in his lap. The hem of my dress rides up. “I was thinking about how I wanted you to touch me.”
He swallows, his throat tight. “Yeah?” he chokes out again.
“Yeah… all over.”
My hips slide back and forth some more. More of my dress bunches up. The strap slips down my shoulder, but I don’t fix that either. I tickle my fingers along his jawline and let our lips align in an almost kiss.
So very close.
“I wanted you so bad,” I purr, “I didn’t put on any panties.”
“Fuck… Teysha…”
My skin’s flushed, though I don’t let myself think too much on it. If I did, I’d lose my nerve. I’d start second-guessing and feeling silly. So far I’ve managed to block out those thoughts; I’ve channeled how I imagine a bombshell type of woman would behave.
I press my lips to Logan’s while my hands set to work on his belt. “I want to feel you inside me.”
It’s like once the seal is broken, Logan loses all rational thought.
He growls as he fists my hair and deepens our kiss. I’m barely able to keep up with the intensity that washes over us. His tongue pushes into my mouth, making his dominance known from its first lash.
Heat spreads across my skin as it suddenly occurs to me this is our first real kiss. The first real time Logan’s unleashing the part of himself I know he’s held back.
His lips claim while his tongue plunders. His fist tightens in my hair as he kisses me like he’s been waiting a lifetime for the chance and now he can’t control himself.
It’s a dizzying thought sitting perched in his lap, trying to match his passion. I’ve never been the girl who impressed guys with my sexual skills. Mostly because I have none. Any kisses I gave were innocent, more like kissing frogs in search of my prince.
But kissing Logan Cutler is like coming alive in a whole new way. It’s the instant, intense, spine-tingling epiphany that this is what people mean when they say they felt fireworks.
I feel many of them. Tiny sparks that crackle inside of me.
I’m left hot and dazed as Logan kisses my lips swollen. Then he’s peppering them elsewhere, kissing any other parts of me he can, like my throat and shoulders.
He’s hard. The bulge in his pants feels like steel between my thighs as I sit astride him.
“Oh… oh more… please,” I pant, my eyes closing at the feel of his lips on my throat. “Please… Logan, make love to me.”
He goes still as if waking from a dream. His fist loosens in my hair. His lips leave my throat, making it feel naked and exposed. He won’t look me in the eye.
