LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) (30 page)

She thought the predatory gleam in his eye seemed to glow a little brighter with the thought of spanking her. "Logan please, you're scaring me. I said I'm sorry—"

"And I said I want you to laugh. If you can't do it yourself, maybe I need to help you." He took a large step toward her but she escaped his grasp.

"Stop it!" Tarla ordered and sped up her retreat.

"I'll stop it when I hear you laughing," he countered, then picked up his own pace.

She evaded him for almost a whole minute as she circled the room and dodged between pieces of furniture. Suddenly his hands latched onto her caftan, bringing her to an abrupt halt and pulling her close. As she tried to get free again, his fingers wiggled in her sides. "Laugh, Tarla," he said, tickling her without mercy.

She squealed from the unexpected tickle and saw a victorious grin spread across his face instantly erasing all traces of aggression. It was such a relief to realize he had intended to tickle rather than humiliate her, she almost gave him the laughter he'd demanded. But her own stubborn streak kept her from giving in that easily. "You can't make me!" she declared.

He found an extremely vulnerable spot below her ribs that caused her to squeal again, yet she still managed to hold back a real laugh.

The more she squirmed in an attempt to escape, the more effort he put into tickling her. The struggle tilted them both off balance and they tumbled over a row of foam cubes and onto the floor in a tangle of legs and arms and yards of pink and aqua fabric.

That did it for Tarla. She burst out laughing and Logan joined her the next second.

"You broke the couch," she teased between chuckles and gasps for air.

"I can fix the couch. What are you going to do about my broken back?" He returned, managing to reduce his laughter to a crooked smile.

"No problem," she said as seriously as possible. "I'm a nurse. I can fix your back." With him sprawled half on top of her, she scraped her fingernails down his spine to give him a taste of his own medicine. His reflexive jerk gave her such satisfaction, she tried to extract a bit more revenge by tickling his sides as he had done with her. But that only caused him to pay her back again. As each tried to get the better of the other, they rolled across the floor, laughing too hard to really administer a good tickle.

"I give up! You win," Tarla finally said, fighting more for a deep breath of air than for her freedom. His body had hers pinned to the floor and, though he looked much too pleased with himself, she didn't have the strength to continue the mock battle.

"If I win, that means you lose, and you know what happens to losers?"

She cocked one eyebrow suspiciously.

"They have to pay off the winner," Logan informed her. "Now what payment should I demand?"

Chapter 16

Logan looked as though he was giving a great deal of thought to choosing her payoff.

"I won't make you go on any more walks in public," she offered quickly, before he could think of anything more difficult for her to forfeit.

He shook his head. "Not nearly enough."

"Umm, I won't talk to you like you're a complete imbecile in front of guests."

Now that she was no longer laughing or engaged in a tickling match, she began noticing other things—like how right his hard body felt covering hers and how she could feel the coarseness of the hair on his legs because their caftans were twisted above their knees. How he shifted to find a more comfortable position. How his lower body was changing shape where it was pressed to hers...

"Still not enough," he murmured as the expression on his face turned serious and his eyes darkened with desire.

There was something else she noticed—she was suddenly getting very warm... and incredibly,
abnormally
horny... and her nerves felt like they were on the outside of her body... almost as if—

No!
That was completely impossible. Not here. Not after all this time. Not with a Terran.

Not with Logan!

She forced her gaze from his seductive eyes only to have his mouth capture her rising interest. If she was right about what was happening to her, there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable burning desire, the mindless need.

But maybe she was wrong. Maybe the business of touching his mind had her imagination running amok. It might be nothing but stress...

Though Tarla couldn't verbalize her third concession to the winner, her eyes closed and her lips parted in preparation of giving him the prize she assumed he wanted.

His groan sounded more like one of resigned defeat than glorious victory, but before she could question it, his mouth came down hard on hers...
exactly as she needed
. Rather than the tender consideration he had shown her before, this kiss was filled with greedy passion.

Without being granted the time or ability to hypothesize further, her primitive instincts claimed full control of her response. She angled her head beneath his and drew his tongue deep into her mouth. There was no battle for superiority here, nor concerns about the past or future. No more analyzing if her body's reaction was more than lust. There was only the present and the explosive sensations he ignited within her.

It took only a slight maneuver to push the caftans above their waists, leaving only his cotton boxers and her satin pants as obstacles to their suddenly raging need. She parted her thighs and wrapped her legs around him, cradling his hips so that he was perfectly centered on her.

His mouth continued to devour hers and she returned his hunger in full. Their tongues stroked and licked, moving in and out to match the rhythm set by their lower bodies as they rubbed against each other, harder, faster, wanting more, but unable to stop the pleasure they were taking long enough to make it even better.

Moaning in frustration, she tightened her legs, bracing him hard against where she desperately needed him to rub, and was unexpectedly flung over the edge. Between her sharp movements and cry of relief, it was more than he could handle, and he too felt the uncontrollable burst of orgasmic relief.

He rolled them both onto their sides and held her close while they caught their breath.

Tarla's mind was enveloped in a silky fog while chords of pleasure continued to thrum through her body. She was aware of the internal heat slightly cooling, but the nerve endings all over her body were still twitching. She ordered herself not to be concerned... the symptoms were the normal result of a huge need to relieve stress combined with extended celibacy.

She was also slightly aware of another, separate, worrisome thought straining to the surface but she suppressed it as well. Whatever it was could wait a few more minutes while she enjoyed the exquisitely sensual moment.

Then all the worrisome thoughts were forgotten, for Logan's lips returned to hers, gentler now, the way she remember his other kisses. She felt herself floating and knew he had picked her up in his arms and was carrying her, but all her attention was focused on his incredible mouth and the way he could make a simple kiss say so much.

His lips barely left hers for more than a heartbeat or two, and yet he managed to remove their caftans and underwear, pull back the bed covers and lie down with her still nestled in his embrace.

Logan would have loved to simply stand beside the bed and memorize how his dark angel looked from head to toe, with no part of her concealed from him. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed with passion. He was afraid that if he ended the kiss to do as he wished, the lust-driven spell she was under would be broken. She'd awaken and realize who she was with and what she was doing. Her common sense would return and end his chance to live out one of his fantasies.

So he gave up one pleasure for another and determined to keep her in her current state of desire as long as possible. If he was very, very good, perhaps she could be tempted to repeat the experience occasionally. After one day, he knew his sanity could never stand a whole year of either a mistress-servant relationship or the casual roommate arrangement she was pushing for.

He had no delusions of convincing her that he loved her or of receiving her love in return. He was simply hoping for a cease-fire and whatever concessions he could seduce from her.

Though climaxing
with
her without being
inside
her had never been one of his fantasies—it had never even occurred to him that could happen at his age—the release did give him the patience he needed to carry out a new plan.

Straddling her closed thighs, his lips paid homage to every feature on her face, his teeth nibbled her ears, his hands leisurely stroked her neck, shoulders and arms, while occasionally, as if entirely by accident, he moved his chest so that his hair brushed lightly back and forth over her breasts. Only when she arched upward to increase the contact did he take her breasts in his hands and gently knead them.

Her moan told him that was almost but not quite what she wanted. He smiled against her mouth then kissed his way down her neck, across one shoulder and down to a nipple which had appreciatively puckered for him. Her abrupt intake of breath was his reward for closing his mouth and teeth around the peak and stroking it with his tongue. As his hands continued to massage the fullness of both breasts, he moved his mouth to her other nipple, until her attempts to gyrate her hips beneath his weight reminded him that she still had more peaks and valleys impatiently waiting to be explored.

Planting a trail of kisses over her abdomen, with a brief pause to flick his tongue in her navel, he led her to believe he would soon arrive at his ultimate destination. However, he had a detour in mind. As long as she remained willing to bear his lovemaking, he intended to taste every beautiful inch of her. But he thought it best to give her a preview of coming attractions to entice her to tolerate the delay.

Easing his way upward so his shaft was once again full and heavy against her stomach, he eased his way down her body again until he was knocking at her secret door. She was so bewitched by his touch that the slightest move on his part to change his position had her spreading her legs to accommodate him.

With his hands beneath her thighs he bent her legs toward her chest to expose her even more. The sight of her femininity glistening with the moisture of wanting him practically unmanned him, but he pulled himself together and carried on. "So beautiful," he whispered, unable to hold back all of what he was feeling.

He allowed her to hold him for the moment it took to guide him to her entrance then he moved her hands away and held them. As he slipped into her depths, he reclaimed her mouth for another long, deep kiss. With little more than the skillful rotation of his hips, he drove her to the brink once more.

Then he withdrew from her body.

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes flew open. She didn't understand and she was too dazed to ask. Scraping his callused thumb over the tiny bud of nerves he had teased, he felt her shiver. "Patience," he whispered.

It was the mantra he had been saying over and over in his own mind, for it was becoming more difficult by the second to do what he intended. Leaving her body after finally learning the feel of it just took the number one spot on his list of hardest things he ever had to do. But keeping his plan in mind helped him accomplish it.

He crawled back far enough to be able to kiss her toes. When he'd caressed every part of one foot, he alternately kissed and licked a path up that leg, then repeated the slow procedure on the other. This time, however, he didn't stop at the top of her thigh.

He gave her warning of his next sweet torment by cupping his hand between her legs and lightly stroking the soft curls.

"
Logan
, please."

He had not thought it possible for her to make his name sound like a prayer, yet she did, and he could not help but comply.

She was wet and open as he slid two fingers slowly up and down over her sensitized flesh. He watched her clutch the pillow beneath her head and listened to her kitten cries grow stronger with each breath. When she began tilting her hips to meet his strokes, he quickened his efforts for several seconds then pinched her sensitive, extended flesh between his fingers.

She whimpered and trembled and sighed with immense satisfaction, but he wasn't finished with her. While the aftershocks of pleasure continued to hold her in thrall, those same two fingers that had so skillfully released her tension, delved deep inside her and pushed against the upper wall.