Page 28 of The Captain's Curfew
My hand slides up to rest over his heart, which thunders beneath my palm.
We don’t stop.
We fall.
His fingers brush my cheek, trailing down to my jaw.His touch is rough, calloused, but so gentle it makes my heart ache.I lean into it before I can stop myself.
That’s all it takes.The dam breaks.
Logan’s mouth crashes into mine like he’s starved for me.Like he’s been holding back for far too long and finally let go.There’s nothing soft about it — no hesitation, no question — just raw, aching need.
And God, I match it.
I fist my hands in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to eliminate the sliver of space between us.He tastes like coffee and something inherently him — something I’ve wanted for years but never thought I’d get.
He groans low in his throat, one hand sliding into my hair, the other gripping my hip like he’s anchoring himself.Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
But I’m not going anywhere.
My pulse races so fast it’s dizzying.My body is on fire, every nerve ending alive and electric.And when he deepens the kiss — when his tongue brushes against mine and he tilts his head to get even closer — I swear I melt right there on the spot.
This isn’t just a kiss.
It’s years of tension.Years of stolen glances.It’s every fight, every smirk, every rule he’s ever made shattering in one breathless, burning second.
He breaks the kiss, and I suck in some much-needed air.
A muscle ticks in his jaw.“You’re going to be the death of me, Violet.”
I smile, my heart racing in a way that has nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with the man sitting in front of me.
“Worth it.”
He nods in agreement, and then his lips are back on mine, and I’m lost in him.His fingers tangle in my hair, and I moan as he tugs on the strands.
“Need you,” he groans against my mouth.
I nod.I need him, too.More than I’ve ever needed anything.
His hands reach for my shirt, and I help him pull it off.We strip in a frantic frenzy, both desperate to be naked, to be one.
He pushes me back against the couch cushions and braces himself over me, his eyes dark and filled with need and something else.Something that looks like love.
He kisses me, and I spread my legs wider for him as he settles into the soft cradle of my thighs.
“I’ve never done this before,” I admit as he trails kisses down my neck.
“Fuck, Violet,” he groans against my skin.“We don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I cut him off, shivering in his hold.“I want you.Now.”
I grip his hips, trying to tug him closer.He stares down at me, seemingly weighing his options.
“Logan.Please,” I pant.
That determined look that I love comes over his face.He kisses me quickly before sliding off the couch and kneeling at my feet.
“What are you doing?”I squeak.
