Logan
My knees bite into the floorboards, but I don’t feel a Goddess damned thing except my tongue sliding through Brie’s wetness. The taste of her is… my undoing. I might regret this in the morning. There will be consequences for this, of that I’m sure. We both know this can’t happen. I am stronger than this–I was stronger than this–able to shut any feeling down the moment it tried to flicker to life, but Brie has this otherworldly effect on me that I can’t shake.
I’ve given up trying.
She whimpers and trembles as my tongue draws lazy circles over her clit. Her thighs flex while she grips the sheets, her eyes squeezed shut as she chases a feeling I know she’s experiencing for the first time. A sense of pride swells in my chest knowing it’s me between her legs. It’s my face she’s squeezing between her soft, supple thighs. It’s me kneeling for her, a queen in her own right.
There’s so much I want to do to her. So much I could show her, make her feel, but she’s… new at this. And I’m on the verge of losing my mind against her taste, her scent, the way her inner walls grip my fingers when I carefully slide two of them inside her.
Brie arches her hips at the intrusion, her breath coming in a short, surprised exhale. I swipe my thumb over her clit, kissing her inner thigh and watch the way she relaxes into my touch again.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper against her skin, closing my eyes as she rocks her hips toward me, moaning low in her throat. She’s close. Her body jerks, her moans become soft whimpers, and her hands drift into my hair, tugging ever so slightly while I press kisses up her thigh.
My mouth continues its dance, sucking and lapping at her clit while my fingers pump in, and out. She’s soaking wet. The thought of being buried inside of her makes it almost impossible to focus on the task at hand–making her come.
I have to see her at her most vulnerable to truly understand her mind. I know who she is, what she’s capable of. She’s not the type of woman to sit quietly while the world turns. No, she’s a leader. A commander. A queen.
She’s mine.
“Logan,” she whispers, my name a soft, airy whimper against the creaking of the ship as it sails through a world where we’re just… Brie and Logan. Not the sister of the Firestone Queen. Not the displaced Alpha. Just us. “Logan!”
I open my eyes to slits to watch her unravel, sucking deeply, groaning as her walls clench my fingers and pulse erratically. She arches her back and bites back a scream, her fingers pulling my hair like I’m the only thing keeping her here, in this world.
She comes down slowly, struggling to catch her breath. Her breasts tremble, her rosy nipples peaked in the cool night air, her skin washed in starlight. Her hair is loose and spread around her on the mattress, and her face… Goddess, she’s stunning. Raw and suddenly, finally, at ease.
I release my fingers, pressing another kiss to her clit before my mouth begins a slow exploration of her hips, her belly. I climb back onto the bed, straddling her, looking down at her while I lick my fingers clean, and I… I have to leave the room as soon as possible before I do something we’ll both regret.
“How did you–” she whispers, sucking in a breath, “That was–”
I lean down and kiss her, stealing her praise. I don’t need it. Seeing her flushed like this is enough, but her hand rests on my chest and begins to slide down to my belt. “We can’t,” I breathe, meeting her eyes in the darkness. The lamplight does little to light the room, but her eyes glow like polished mahogany and are heavy with desire.
“Because you think you’ll hurt me?” Her fingers graze my belt buckle.
“Because I’ll mark you.”
Brie exhales slowly, her lips curving into a seductive smile that rewires my brain and makes me forget why we can’t do this.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, lowering my body to hers.
“Because we have… a lot to discuss.”
“Yes,” I say against her lips. Her scent wraps around me. All warm things, spice and honey. It’s intoxicating. She’s intoxicating, and I think she knows it. I think I haven’t given her enough credit for being a closeted vixen because she kisses me deeply, passionately, her tongue gliding over mine while her hands travel up and down my sides, mapping my body like I’ve just mapped hers.
I have her pinned to the bed. I have her caged in. I should just roll us over, keep her pressed against my chest until she falls asleep and releases me of this torment, but… something shifts in my chest. A flicker. A song I know by heart without ever once hearing the melody. It’s like a shadow of what was once there–our bond. The bond we broke against our better judgment.
I look down at Brie and see stars in her eyes. I see a woman I could love deeply, madly. I see a woman who would run my life down to the second, and I’d let her do it. I’d crawl for her.
I see my mate as I should have seen her before.
***
Brie
My brain is a tangled mess of fatigue and conflicting feelings when Logan falls asleep on top of me, lulled into a stupor by my touch. I just… held him there, comforted by his body on mine, listening to his heart as it slowed.
Eventually, he slid to the side and pulled me to his chest where I fell asleep with my cheek pressed to his shoulder, his heartbeat a lullaby that rocked me to sleep with the waves.
But I dream. I rarely ever dream. When I do, it’s never good. I dream about being pressed into the depths of the ocean with Logan’s arms around me. I dream of walking the hallways of the castle in Veiled Valley, alone, while my father and brother are off fighting in the civil war I failed to prevent.
I dream in startling detail of being… freezing cold. My back is bare and pressed to an altar, and fire is everywhere, the crackling flames breached by the screamed pleas of a young man who looks a whole lot like Sydney, but… far younger. Twenty or so years younger.
I dream of hazy conversation where I feel like I’m underwater. I feel… fear. Guilt. Shame… and above all, hatred. Hatred directed at me, this stain. This reminder of the man who held her down, forced her. She knew I’d meet the same fate. She tried to stop it. She had one chance to escape, to save me, and she did it.
But I killed her.
Sobs choke me away. Someone’s calling out my name. A hand caresses my cheek, but I flinch away from the touch.
“Stop! Don’t–don’t touch me–”
“Brie, it’s me. It’s Logan.”
I blink rapidly, my eyes wet with tears. The darkness doesn’t fade. It’s the dead of night, maybe the earliest hours of the morning, and the entire room is blanketed in black.
But Logan’s face comes into view. He’s pale, his brow furrowed and body rigid, his arm muscles flexed as he holds me to the bed. I’ve been thrashing in my sleep, haven’t I?
How many times have I woken up to Mom or Dad holding me down just like this, begging me to wake up?
I’d always walked it off, laughed about it while blinking away my tears, saying I couldn’t remember what the dream was, often blaming it on some stupid, scary movie Aris insisted we watch together.
I didn’t want them to know. I didn’t want them to carry the guilt. So, I buried it.
But the way Logan’s looking at me right now… he sees it. He sees everything.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper through tears.
He shakes his head and shushes me.
“I’m–I’m sorry–I–”
His mouth meets mine in the darkness, firm and real. This isn’t a nightmare. This isn’t a stupid dream about my future, of the peace in the world I’m trying to attain. This is just… him. My mate. The mate I told myself I couldn’t have because there was too much at stake.
The bubble of delusion bursts.
I gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck and dragging him down to me. He’s still shirtless and I’m wearing… nothing. Absolutely nothing. There’s something different about this kiss–something untamed and wild, something born out finally, saying to hell with it and letting myself have something I want, damning the consequences.
Logan groans against my mouth, hissing as he bites my lower lip. He whispers my name as his hands rove down my sides, his body shifting to position himself over mine. Whatever resolve he had to hold back vanishes in the space of a ragged breath as he clutches my thighs, spreading them apart.
I’m willing to beg. I have no idea what I’m in for, but I need it. I have to have him.
I close my eyes as his mouth travels over my breasts, peppering me with rough, bruising kisses. His teeth leave marks as his tongue dances over my nipples, sucking and biting his way down to my belly, but I hear his belt catch against his belt loop before it lands on the ground somewhere near the bed, falling to the ground with a thud. The button on his pants is cool against my inner thigh, but his fingers are warm when he frees it, and then he’s…
I choke on the air trying to leave my lungs. He rises up on his knees and leans down to kiss my lips again, but I’m acutely aware of his nakedness, even in the pure dark.
I reach down, my fingertips grazing the head of his cock. He shudders when I touch him–featherlight–before curling my hand around his shaft. I can’t wrap my hand around his width completely, and a jolt of sudden apprehension clouds my senses.
But not for long. That siren song taking over my mind wins, burying any doubts. My core throbs, my hips arching toward him on instinct. A needy whimper escapes my lips as I pump my hand up his shaft.
He sighs–a deep, guttural sound that stirs my wolf.
He reaches over the bed to turn on the lamp, and the room floods with muted golden light.
Seeing him like this, with my hand wrapped around his dick stimulates me in a way I didn’t think was possible. The way he’s looking at me right now is almost enough to send me over the edge even without him touching me. I swipe my thumb over the head of his cock, trembling with heat. I feel like I’m fevered. The rest of the room is hazy, and my heart pounds out of rhythm as I writhe, desperate for him.
Logan gives me that cocky smirk, one of his brows twitching as he rolls his lower lip between his teeth. His pupils are wide, his eyes nearly black in the lamplight. Just like me, he’s on the verge of transformation. He told me he wouldn’t be able to stop, to hold back. He’d mark me if we did this before he had a chance to get off this boat and shift to clear his head.
“Needy little wolf,” he rasps, reaching between my legs. He drags his fingers through my aching, throbbing folds, chuckling darkly with satisfaction as he looks at his glistening fingers. He nudges my legs further apart, bracing a hand on the bed near my shoulder, and looks down at me once more before lowering his body to mine.
His cock teases my entrance, sliding in a fraction of an inch. The stretch is already too much to bear.
His lips part as I whine, biting down on my lip to stop from whimpering. I meet his gaze, and his eyes have softened just a touch.
“Can you handle it?” he rasps, pulling out and fisting his cock before sliding it again just enough to tease me.
“Yes,” I breathe, “Please!”
He grips my hip with his free hand, his mouth crashing into mine. We’re on the precipice of no return when Logan goes very, very still, and lifts his head.
“What?” I whisper, reaching for him.
He slowly turns his head to look behind him at the bedroom door. I can hear his heart slowing as the room falls silent all around us, but then he moves with a predator's stealth, sliding off the bed and grabbing his pants, roughly pulling them up to his waist.
“Stay here,” he whispers, his eyes meeting mine in the lamplight.
“What is it?” I ask, unease curling through my body.
He doesn’t have a chance to reply. The boat careens sharply to the side, shifting direction so swiftly it sends whatevers not nailed down to the floor sliding across the room.
Through the window, against the early morning sky still full of stars, purple lights blink on the horizon… speeding toward us.