Page 82 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

He touches my chin again, tilting my lips to his. One kiss. But somehow, it’s more intense than all the others.

“Go on, kitty,” he murmurs, his smile patient.“Play.”

22

KATRINA

Play.

Even in my mid-twenties, the word feels forbidden. To run wild. To laugh and scream. To race from one end of the rickety bridge to the other and back again.

Play.

To press the keys of my piano. To slide my bow across the strings of my violin. To create art. To feel emotions. To discover talents within myself I didn’t know I had.

Play.

To kiss the forbidden boy.

To let him touch me in ways no one ever has.

To touch him back.

Logan stares into my eyes, our faces so close, our lips grazing with every breath. He doesn’t say a word—just lets that last one linger in the air between us.

Play.

I never thought about love and sex that way before.

But why not?

To have fun with each other.

To laugh and scream in pleasure.

Play.

For a beat, my heart stalls with the realization. Then, with a soft kiss and a slow, tentative touch, it kick-starts again, slamming against my ribs as my fingers curl around Logan’s cock.

His breath stutters against my lips. He kisses me harder, his hands cradling my face, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

I look down, watching my hand move over him. Slow, unsure. With every stroke, every squeeze, Logan makes a sound. A sharp exhale. A deep groan. A whispered curse.

“Is this okay?” I ask, my voice trembling.

Logan chuckles, his lips brushing mine. “You have to ask?”

I hesitate. I don’t want to admit how little I know.

“Here.” He reaches down, sliding his hand over mine, guiding my touch. “Like this...”

He leads me to the base of his shaft, tightening my fingers around him.

“That tight?” I whisper.

“Oh,yes.”

“That doesn’t hurt?”

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