Page 93 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

"I've come to see there are advantages," he says as he walks to the foot of the bed. "Especially when I want to enjoy the morning with my wife."

My laughter fills the room as he grabs my ankles and pulls me down to him.

"Room service is taking way too long," he says, licking his lips. "I think I'm going to need an appetizer."

I watch as Logan kneels down at the end of the bed, pushing the silk nightgown I’m wearing up past my hips. I pull it off the rest of the way, my body suddenly overheating as Logan begins pressing kisses on the inside of my thighs.

I try to prop myself up on my elbows, wanting to watch him, but with the first swipe of his tongue over my center, I lose any strength needed to hold me up.

The night we spent together plays on a loop in my mind often. Maybe more than I’ll ever admit. But part of me also wondered if I was blowing it out of proportion. Because between the martinis, and the moment, and the excitement of the night, there was a real possibility I could've created this memory that was better than what it actually was.

I’m now realizing I was mistaken.

This is better.

Maybe it's being sober, or being in the light of day. Maybe it's because I know Logan so much more than I did that night. But the way he's worshipping me now? How his tongue is licking and exploring, while his fingers are working in tandem to find the spot that's going to send me over the edge? This is better than any fantasy.

"Logan," I moan grabbing at his hair as his tongue starts doing a fluttering motion that is making my hips and body have a mind of their own.

He doesn't say anything, instead doubling down on every single thing he's just done that my body has reacted to. It's like he memorized every buck my hips did, or every time I pulled his hair just a little harder. The man can read me like a book, and while in some ways that's terrifying, in this moment it's anything but.

"So close." I grab onto the sheets, needing something to brace me for whatever Logan is about to do. And just as I think I'm ready, that I feel the orgasm coming from deep within me,Logan takes one of his hands and tweaks a nipple, sending just enough pain to balance the pressure.

And the perfect combination is my undoing.

My scream is as loud as my orgasm is intense. Thank God we're on a private floor of the hotel.

"Jesus Christ," I pant as my orgasms finally subsides. "That was..."

"Beautiful," Logan finishes for me. He leaves kisses on the inside of my thighs and on my stomach as he climbs onto the bed. I realize where his mouth has just been, and the trail he likely left on my body, yet I can't help but want to kiss him and taste myself on his lips.

As soon as he’s within reach, I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him down on me, kissing him exactly how I want. And I'm right, I do taste myself. What I wasn't expecting was it to be slightly intoxicating. Knowing what we just shared? Knowing how my body reacted to him? It’s quite the unexpected high.

Just as I'm about to reach down, wanting nothing more than to feel his length in my hands, a knocking on the door breaks the bubble of the moment.

"Don't answer," I protest. Though as soon as I say that, my stomach loudly announces how hungry it is.

"You need food," he says, dropping one more kiss on my lips before popping out of bed. I groan as he answers the door—and I sure hope he put on a robe, because no server needs to see what was just pressing against my body.

“Breakfast in bed?" I ask as I bring the sheet over my breasts and sit myself up against the headboard.

"Bacon, eggs, toast, and juice," he says—now wearing a robe. "If you don't like that, there's more on the cart and you can take whatever you'd like."

"Aren't you eating?"

He shakes his head. "I will after my shower. You eat first."

I throw out a pouty lip. "Maybe I wanted to shower with you?"

He shakes his head. "If you get in that shower with me, I'm going to fuck you. I don't know if I'd be able to help myself."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Normally it wouldn't be. But the next time I feel you wrapped around my cock, I want it to be inourbed."

My still-throbbing pussy clenches at his words, and I'm left speechless.

His wife? Our bed? If he keeps using words like that—and my body keeps reacting—I'm going to want to stay in this marriage forever.

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