Page 102 of The Witch's Heart
All that matters is Logan. And me.
He watches me, his eyes hungry for much more than my blood. And I don’t refuse him. My eyes locked on his, I pull him close.
“Touch me,” I whisper and his mouth crashes over mine.
The coppery tang of my blood hits my tongue, but I barely register it before Logan’s hands slip underneath my dress and push it high on my thighs. His fingers slide over my sensitive skin and I press closer to where he’s wedged himself between my knees. He pushes my panties aside and teases me with one finger, but I’m desperate.
The desire and the magic are one now.
I fear if I don’t release something, I’ll explode.
Moaning, I guide him so that his finger slides inside me. He responds by growling and grabbing me, swinging me up and around so that we’re both on the floor before I know what’s happened. He lowers himself over me, his eyes intensely locked on mine.
Somehow, in the blur of movement, he’s discarded his clothes. I can feel him pressed against my thigh and I push my hips upward, impatient.
His expression darkens and a ripple of anticipation makes me shudder.
“You’re mine now,” he whispers as he pushes into me.
And we become one.
Words disappear as we communicate with a language much more primal.
I spiral into him, as our souls are joined by the rhythmic movement of our bodies. He fills me, every memory, every thought, every emotion, drowning out the pain, the fear, the terror of our shared past.
We approach the edge together, our bodies winding and winding until they unspool in a cascade of fireworks.
We are silent for some time, holding each other like life preservers in a storm. After a while, I finally sit up and pull my dress down again. Logan watches me from where he lounges on the rug, his back propped against the couch. His eyes are hooded—still half-filled with desire—but there’s something else there now too. A glint of fury.
“It’s time,” he says quietly. “This has gone on long enough. Through dimensions it seems.”
My eyes sting with tears as I recall the pain and fear I felt just before we arrived in this particular timeline--if that’s what it can be called. “I remember right before everything changed,” I say quietly. “You told me I did it. I thought-- I’d hoped-- But it’s not over yet.”
“It’s not over.” He sits up, takes my hand. “We’re going to finish it. Together.”
I nod. “I know where Declan and Dean are. We should get them first. Then we’ll finish it.”
“Do you know how to defeat him?”
He means Cutter.
“Yes.”
When I look away, he reaches over and draws my face to his. “You can do this,” he says resolutely. “Wecan do this.”
I offer a trembling smile, but there’s no trace of fear. Only impatience. Now that I know who I am, I’m anxious to rescue my mates—and to face Cutter. To make him pay.
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you know you’re not a monster?”
He smiles softly. “Yes. And I have you to thank for that.” His thumb brushes the tender spot on my throat where he bit me.
Renewed desire surges inside me. When our eyes meet, I see the same need reflected in his gaze.
I kiss Logan hard on the mouth and then get up, offering my hand to him. “Let’s go. I have a plan.”
Logan drives and it’s every bit as smooth and fast as all his movements now. Like he’s given up pretending to be what he’s not. Like he’s accepted every part of himself.
We both have.
