Page 87 of When He Plays

This is the way that you consummate a marriage.

Chapter Seventeen

“I didn’t know it was supposed to feel like that.” Probably the wrong words to say. Logan’s ego was going to become huge. As if it hadn’t already been big enough. But she believed in being honest and… “I think I can still feel aftershocks, deep inside.” Little after-flutters of pleasure.

They were in his bed. Tangled sheets around them. The faint scent of sex in the air. There was no part of her body that did not feel owned by him.

And that was such a weird thought to have, but, there it was. He seemed to have marked her. Inside and out.

“Does that mean you’re ready to go again?” Logan rumbled.

He could not be serious. It had barely been like, five minutes. She started to smile at him. But the smile froze when she saw his expression.

Lust.

Her heart thudded hard in her chest.

He’d ditched the condom. Tossed it away in the bathroom, then slid back into the bed with her. He watched her now with his intent gaze, and she realized he was one hundred percent serious.

He wanted to fuck her again. Right then.

No, no, he said that he didn’t fuck his wife. He’d called it making love. Just semantics, of course. Not like he really meant those words. But wouldn’t it be something if he had?

“Did I hurt you?” he asked suddenly.

She shook her head, moving it lightly against the pillow.

“Because if you’re too sore, we don’t have to go again.”

“You really want to fuck me again? Right now?” So soon?

“No, baby.”

Ah. Okay. He had been joking.

“I want to make love to you again. Right now. Or, to be clear, always. Just so you’ll understand where my head is at—and my dick—when I think of you. I will always want to make love to you.”

She had no response. Other than, I want to make love to you, too. Only she’d thought that making love would be tender and slow and what they’d just done—yes, he had been tender. So careful with his mouth. With his fingers. But the absolute need and desire that had thundered through her body as she’d heaved back against him while clinging to that headboard for dear life…

That part had not been tender. The way she’d ridden his cock like she was taming some kind of wild bull? Um, not slow or gentle at all near the end. She’d been pounding down hard against him with all of her might. “Is it always like that, with you?”

“What do you mean?” His hand was on her stomach. Warm. Steady. Strong.

“Do women always go a little crazy when you fuck them?” As soon as the question was out of her mouth, Charlotte wanted to call it back. She didn’t want to know about other women and Logan. “Forget it.”

“I have forgotten them. The only woman who’ll be in my bed from now on—hopefully going quite crazy for me—that’s my wife.”

He’s my husband. We really did it. I married him.

His fingers stretched across her skin. Brushed over her scar.

Her hand flew down and curled around his wrist. An automatic gesture.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked. All deep and easy.

“I made a mistake.” Her eyes burned, but she blinked quickly. No tears were going to sneak out. “I trusted the wrong person.”

He didn’t push with more questions. Just waited.