Her chest filled with too many emotions to label with Logan here, in the flesh. The bruise on his back and the taping around his ribs had called to her maternal side, except now she was feeling anything but. She knee-walked to him, fitting herself between his thighs and ran her fingernails along their outside. His hair-roughened skin goose-fleshed and his cock jerked.
“I remember this,” she crooned, pressing a kiss on his abdomen.
“You missed.” His hands gripped the comforter.
“Sorry.” She blew a breath of air over his shaft. “Better?”
“Damn it, Victoria. You have too many clothes on,” he rasped and then moaned as she fit her mouth over the head, curling her fingers around the base. His hands lifted to feather his fingers through her hair, seeking purchase to direct her movements.
His salty flavor burst over her taste buds as she lapped at him. Inching downward, she sucked until he hit the back of her throat. His thighs trembled as he fought for control and she set out to challenge him. Lashing the notch on the underside with every bob of her head, she drove him higher, his heaving breaths and guttural noises telling her she was successful.
“Baby.” Logan tugged at her hair. “If you don’t stop—”
Her jaw aching, she redoubled her efforts and he flinched, groaning as he poured himself down her throat. She swallowed frantically, and then let him slip free, resting her head on his thigh.
He stroked her hair. “I wanted to come inside your pussy.”
She peered up at him. “I thought after a month apart, your recovery time wouldn’t be an issue.” A thought struck her, even as he chuckled, and tapped her nose. She said, “Is more than once too often? With the kidney thing?”
“Quit making me laugh!” He held his ribs. “Are you besmirching my manhood?”
“Besmirching?” She giggled. This was the way it was with Logan when he wasn’t making her orgasm until she cried uncle. “You should be in the advertising business. For the Medieval Times.”
“I’ll show you recovery periods.” He grabbed her hand and she pushed up to her feet, still laughing. Her t-shirt easily slipped over her head, and Logan shoved the yoga pants down, grunting with satisfaction as her briefs accompanied them. Her bra was a struggle, the hooks resisting his efforts.
“All thumbs?” she teased. “Logan! That was my favorite bra.”
He tossed the ruined fabric aside and buried his face against her stomach. The wash of his heated breath gave her the chills and she nearly purred when his hands rubbed down her back to stroke her buttocks. “You smell like home. I’ve missed this scent.”
“Lie back,” she murmured.
“I want to touch you.”
“I want you to, but get comfortable.”
He shuffled backward and stretched out, head raised on the pillows, the double bed dwarfed beneath his frame. She couldn’t wait to cuddle with him, although their king-size mattress at home gave them room for antics Logan wouldn’t be attempting any time soon.
She knelt beside him and he cupped a breast. “Missed these, too. And this.”
The slide of his fingers between her thighs made her eyes close, the better to concentrate on his touch. His hand pulled back and her hips arched to follow. “Greedy girl. Straddle me.”
Carefully, she set a knee on either side of his hips, her wet core grazing his stiffening cock. Her lips twitched.
“Ah, that woman smile.”
“Excuse me?”
“The one you give me when you have me exactly where you want me.”
“Which is hardly ever, when we’re in bed!”
“And the way you like it.” Did his voice have a trace of wariness?
“Precisely the way I like it—usually. But today you’re mine, although you can follow along the best you’re able.”
Smirking, he drew her down and lifted up to suck a nipple into his mouth. “Shit.” He winced, though tried to hide it.
“I told you. Lie there. You might learn something,” she teased.
Rolling his shoulders back, he said, “I’m all yours.”
“You are.” She fixed him with a hard stare, before leaning to nuzzle the hollow of his throat. His scent was the strongest there and she inhaled deeply before peppering kisses along his neck, then drifting them over his pectorals. His dark nipples peaked, and she darted her tongue across them while grinding her apex against him.
“That feels good,” he mumbled.
“I can’t wait to do the same thing to your belly when you’re not wrapped up like a mummy.”
“You could take the bandages all off.”
“Now who’s greedy?” She traced a pattern over his heart, and his hand caught hers, pressing it between them, at her apex.
“You’re wet, baby.”
She’d been ready for him since the moment he’d kissed her. “I want to torture you some more.”
“This is torture.” He humped his hips a little.
Fitting him against her opening, she sank down so his tip slipped inside. Her tissues parted grudgingly and she huffed a breath. It had been a while. Easing back, she pressed forward to take more of him, being filled in that delicious way she shared with Logan.
He set his hands on her hips and facilitated her movements.
“Let me do the work,” she whispered, and his hands slipped up her ribcage to hold and stroke her breasts.
Establishing a rhythm, she rode his cock, locking her gaze on his. The connection they’d had, right from the beginning, was still there, and she built on it. With the intimacy, the wounding of her heart healed without a trace, and she made love to him freely.
His chest rose and fell faster, in time with her movements, and one hand left her aching nipple to unerringly find the knot of nerves at her apex. As he worked it, she took him deep, the additional stimulation tumbling her into a shuddering climax. Logan held her steady and groaned his own.
Collapsing on his chest, careful not to stress his ribs too much, she caught her breath, his skin pleasantly damp against her own. He traced her spine her hair. “You still on birth control?”
“Uh, no.”
“We’d better get married then, sooner than later.”
“I’ll need a new dress.”
“Whatever you want.”
“I want to go home, Logan. To our home.”
“I’ll take you.”
****
Victoria snuggled into the curve of his body, a perfect fit, and he ignored the mild discomfort of his injuries. He’d gladly suffer far worse to have her sleeping so soundly beside him. Her pallor was still worrisome, along with the dark patches beneath her eyes, and she was even thinner without the camouflage of clothing. But he’d take care of her.
He knew she would want to see the completion of her current projects, and he could keep tabs on his business from here, for as long as that took. He wasn’t leaving Victoria’s side again.
Adrienne could earn her spurs back home, and if she proved herself, he’d promote her. If she would undermine his father, she’d undermine him, but he believed in keeping his enemies close, particularly skilled ones. And he planned to heap so much work on her she wouldn’t have time to make mischief.
“Still awake?” Victoria’s drowsy voice drew his stare to hers. Her face was slack with sleep—and satiation—and the caveman in his depths pounded his chest. No injury kept Logan Doherty down for long. Speaking of which…
He brushed the tendrils of hair back from her forehead and pressed his hardening cock against her thigh. “Thinking.”
Blinking away the cobwebs, her beautiful blue eyes focused. She said, “I can feel what you’re thinking about. Go to sleep and let yourself heal. We both need a nap.”
Watching her drift away again, he relaxed and cleared his mind, slipping into that state he coveted when Victoria shared his bed.
Epilogue
“I think getting married at the beach, with just immediate family suits us better,” she said, checking out the venu
es.
“I’m surprised you’ve had enough time to come up with any ideas.” Logan looked up from his laptop.
“I told you. I’m on top of everything at work and Justin seems perfectly qualified. He’s a quick study and Dawna has taken him under her wing.” And kicked her out of the nest, to her relief. Logan was mother hen enough, and her mother was calling every day with helpful input.
“He seems competent.”
“Jon signed off on him too. Another week or so and I can head back.”
He set his computer aside and paced to the windows. “It’s going to snow, I bet.”
“Not for another month at least. We’ll be back long before that, Logan.” She stood to join him. The penthouse suite at the luxury hotel was almost overwhelmingly luxurious, but Justin would need the apartment. And Logan wanted a bigger bed. His sore ribs and kidney weren’t holding him back, to her immense satisfaction. “I know you’re worried about the business.”
“No rush. Adrienne is holding the fort and I’m checking in at unpredictable times.”
She didn’t think she’d like the other woman—on principle—but she wasn’t concerned about anything between her and Logan. “Okay. Another few days is all. I have a special project I’d like to finish out.” It made her want to grimace, but she’d yet to see the end product.
Logan gave her a strange look and then smiled.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“I take it you want something.” She ran a fingertip down his throat.
“I always want that. With you.” He wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.
“Well… I suppose I can fit it in.” She nearly blushed at the double entendre and Logan smirked before stealing her breath with one his possessive kisses.
He gently bit her lower lip and soothed the tiny pain with his tongue, before invading her mouth. She pressed closer and gave over to him, transported as always.
The house phone buzzed and they both started. “Ignore it,” she suggested.
“I think we’d better answer. Not that we won’t pick this up later.”
There was a package for her downstairs and a hotel staff would bring it up, according to the reception desk. Victoria went to the door. Within a few minutes, a young man presented her with a padded envelope, and she gave him the tip Logan handed her.
“I thought it was from the office, but it’s an address on the other side of town. It looks familiar.” She sat at the coffee table and pried the flap open. A hardcover book, about eight by eleven, was cradled by the bubble wrap on the walls of the envelope.
Drawing it out, she caught her breath. Logan sank down beside her and she showed it to him.
“The Tattered Bride.”
The image was stunning and evocative. Pride for her creation warred with the reason for producing it. “I … I think it’s beautiful.”
“And heartbreaking.” His voice held a tremor.
“That too.” She traced a fingertip along the veil. “But I had to do it.”
“I know, Victoria. I felt you the instant I laid eyes on it. And I’m—”
“Don’t.” She laid two fingers against his lips and pressed a kiss on them. “We’re past it.”
Warm breath huffed over her fingers as he sighed, and she drew them down his chin to feather over his jaw.
“Open it.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know how to feel about it being a graphic. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hardcover graphic. This must be a sample.”
“Look and see.”
“I don’t know. What if it’s all exaggerated breasts and blood and gore? Horrible situations?”
“Your choice, baby.”
She carefully folded the cover back—and froze. Extremely talented work met her stare, not the trashy style she’d expected. The bride was the only one featured on the page, the background still gray and dreary. But her trained eye noted a few of the rents in the veil were mended, and the soiled gown a little brighter. Even the sad roses appeared a bit perkier.
Turning to the next page, she saw more evidence of repair. The model’s face became a trifle less haunted, but only if one looked carefully. “It’s a flipbook!”
She pinched all the pages together, letting both covers drop free. With a whirr of paper, she fanned them out in a rapid fashion and the tattered bride became an elegant and radiant image, silhouetted on a background of glowing ivory, her flowers a vibrant red. The color of love. Her heart raced and moisture flooded her eyes. A tear escaped the containment of her fluttering lashes and trailed down her cheek. “It’s so beautiful.”
Logan smoothed the dampness away, and she leaned into him. Looking at the back of the very last page, she saw it. All my love, Logan.
“There’s this, too.” He handed her a slim circlet set with a comb. Semi-precious gems adorned it in a tasteful pattern, although the silver held a somewhat battered texture.
“My tiara!”
She set it on her head with one hand, laughing when he helped her adjust it, his eyes brimming with love. Still clutching the book, she clambered onto his lap and he wrapped her up. She laid her head against his chest and listened to the beating of his heart, the place where he held her close. Nothing needed to be said, quiet gracing the moment.
The End
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The Tattered Bride Page 11
