Page 54 of Until You Found Me

“Is it a bad thing if we are? Dunno what it even means other than the obvious.”

“I don’t care if we are or not. Don’t care what it means.” She steps closer, every ounce of her longing to flip some hidden switch she can’t find. “Logan?”

He exhales softly, leaning into her space. “Hmm?”

“Help me feel something.”

She’s using him. But unlike the other woman who hurt him, at least she’s not hiding it. At least she wants him as much as she needs him to unlock the smallest bit of what she’s lost.

He kisses her quickly, deeply, like he’s been waiting all day to do it. Her breath catches at the suck on her lower lip and a whine forms at the back of her throat when he pulls her against him.

She’s using him as she leads them into the bedroom and he peels her pants off her legs and helps her out of her shirt. How dare she after everything she knows about his past? Even so, she lays back against the pillows, unbothered that he rakes his gaze across her naked body before shedding his own clothes. Her eyes stray too, from one shoulder to the next, down the firm planes of his stomach to where he strokes his shaft in preparation for her.

It’s not a required step when he already looks painfully swollen with arousal, but he does it anyway, almost frantically. He’s been led to believe he’s broken without pharmaceutical assistance and one semi-successful first time hasn’t erased that yet.

What is she doing? Chasing a feeling, an escape, a way toprove to herself that she’s still human when her emotions refuse to play by proper rules, and he’s caught up in that by default. It isn’t fair. She catches his face as he leans over her, both hands cupping his cheeks even as her legs splay to accommodate his hips. “Hey, look at me.”

The intensity of affection shining in his eyes is so strong that she almost has to look away.

“Only if you want to,” she tells him. “I never want you to feel like you have to.”

“I want to. Still can’t promise it’ll be any good, though. For you, I mean.”

“Already is.”

They haven’t joined together yet but her body already responds to him, relaxing and calming under the slight weight pressing her into the mattress. The endless cycle of unwanted thoughts plaguing her comes to a halt, and she’s no longer stuck in that therapist’s office reliving some of the worst moments of her life. She’s here with Logan, where the only thing she has to focus on is the gentle throb between her legs begging to take him inside.

He’s the one to swoop down and capture her lips with his own, a little clumsy and over-eager, but she smiles into the kiss, soaking up his enthusiasm. One thing she’s learning about herself is that despite incomplete memories, she is skilled at this. Muscle memory tells her how much pressure to use with her mouth, what angle and speed to settle on, and how to roll her hips against his erection just right to catch the tip at her entrance.

She’s good at this for reasons she shouldn’t be. Suspects she had to form these skills to keep herself alive in that house. She wishes she still retained some fraction of innocence, buteven amnesia can’t offer her that.

Tessa isn’t herself anymore and isn’t quite that woman she can’t remember.

There’s a familiar burn as he pushes into her that reminds her how overcome she’d been last night during their first time. He is long and thick and just a brief moment together, only the first inch of him, left an ache that lasted well into the morning. It was a welcome soreness through and it will be again, only this time she hopes to take all of him. Her thighs squeeze his hips as he sinks in halfway, her breath catching in her lungs, the sting of her inner muscles stretching to accommodate him almost too much. Then he thrusts again, slowly but with purpose, and she’s overcome with a sense of fullness that erases all else.

This is what she needs. The only thing that can quiet her mind and ground her when half-formed memories threaten to drag her back into a waking nightmare. When she doubts if she can feel anything at all, he proves to her she can feel him. She exhales against his temple, presses a kiss there, and silently begs him to move, waiting patiently for him to do that on his own. She won’t take what she needs. Someone else already did enough of that.

The initial thrust is long and deep, ripping a sharp whimper from her throat. Does she make noise in bed? Or is he the first and only one to pull out those sounds from her?

“More,” she nearly begs, tilting her hips to shift him inside her and his response is another thrust that curls her toes, his pubic bone bumping hers.

He’s still so uncertain about his ability to stay hard that the shock of how well they fit together flickers across his face. If she thought she was in for a longer session this time, she wasmistaken, though. He curses in frustration, a shiver racking his frame, and she knows he’s about to come.

She likes the brief slap of his hips against hers. The unfiltered desperation as he pushes himself into her to spill his release is far from the usual care he puts into every touch, and right now she craves the rawness of it. She wants to feel something after all and he’s succeeded in helping her do just that. She feels every inch of him and her only regret is that it’s over as quickly as it is.

“It’ll get better. Just want you so damn bad,” he groans the apology and explanation into the curve of her neck, nudging forward one last time as he twitches within her.

“You have me,” she whispers. “You have all of me.”

All of her isn’t much of a prize when she’s fractured in ways that can’t be fixed but if he wants those pieces she’s willing to offer them. Then that pressure inside her is gone, and she worries she said something wrong until he slides down her body and presses his tongue between her legs.

Tessa would never ask for this, but he gives eagerly. She lays her head back against the pillow, shuts her eyes, and focuses on the exploration the tip of his tongue takes, dipping through all her softest places. It’s not a long journey and he doesn’t tease her. He already discovered what she likes up against the door the other night.

He settles where she’s swollen and hot and flicks his tongue there with gentle strokes, massaging her with a warm press.

She didn’t know it was possible for anyone to do this with so much enthusiasm. To feel like he’s exactly where he wants to be and is enjoying every second. He makes the occasional humming noise in the back of his throat that she’s not sure he’s aware of, like he can’t resist growling out his appreciationinto exquisite vibrations that echo through her heated skin.

His arms hook around her thighs and give her a slight tug, dragging her closer to his face, and she bends her knees and lets them fall wide like butterfly wings.

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