Chapter Nine
Ava had lost count of the number of times she and Logan had had sex over the years. Not that she’d really been counting in the first place, but in the beginning it had been several times a week. Then after the twins they’d slowed down, although not as much as others might think.
I can’t help it. He’s just that sexy and good.
Like many couples they’d experimented a bit to keep things spicy. Tried some different positions and even roleplayed, although Ava always felt a little foolish when they did that. There had been flavored lubricants and lingerie for Valentine’s Day. There had been padded handcuffs for an anniversary. There had even been a hardback copy of the Kama Sutra one year when Logan had come home from a particularly long business trip.
But nothing…not one thing…was as wonderful to Ava as having the weight of her husband on top of her.
They’d tried dozens of other positions and there were many she orgasmed in much more quickly and easily. In fact, Logan on top was one of the hardest for her to climax at all but dammit, there was something about seeing him naked above her, his larger body covering her own that was so freakin’ hot.
It was protective. It was sensual. It was mind blowing. It was primal.
Closing her eyes, she lost herself in Logan’s kiss as if it was the first time. She hadn’t kissed him that night in the treehouse but if she were honest, she’d wanted to. The next day when he’d cared for her so tenderly she’d been lost.
His lips kissed a wet path over her cheek and down her neck, finding that spot he knew sent her over the moon. She moved restlessly against him, lifting her hips and rubbing against his body as her pulse sped up. His cock was hard and pressing against the denim of his blue jeans, wanting to be free. She reached down and pulled his shirt from his waistband and started on his button fly.
Chuckling, he got into the spirit as well, leaning back on his haunches and tugging his shirt over his head before tossing it away. His pants went next and then those talented fingers started in on her garments.
His heady male scent mixed with the aroma of freshly cut grass and the smell of citrusy body wash. She breathed in a lungful as he tossed her bra away, his lips going directly to one rosy nipple while his finger plucked at the other until it was pebbled and tight. His teeth scraped at the sides of the bud before his tongue followed to soothe the small hurt.
“Now, Logan.”
Her voice sounded thready and desperate, but then that’s what she was. Her body, knowing what pleasure her husband could bring was ready and waiting, and any delay was maddening. She needed him now.
He nipped at her belly, popping open the button of her shorts and slowly pulling the zipper down.
“You’re always in such a hurry, baby.”
She lifted her head so she could look him in the eye. “You are such a liar, Logan Wright. You know what I say about lying.”
Laughing, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that made her wriggle on the mattress. “You always say that if I lie my dick won’t get hard, but I must be telling the truth this time.”
He dug his hard cock into her leg with a grin and then slid her shorts and panties down, the cotton gliding against her fevered skin.
Tossing them onto the growing pile of clothes, he sat back and surveyed her, his gaze raking from head to toe. At first this had bothered her a little, wondering what he was thinking when he was doing this. But as time had passed, she’d realized Logan was a visual man and the only thing he was thinking was that he wanted to have sex. Specifically with her.
“I’m just in a hurry this time. Not all the time,” she said with a hiss as he pressed his lips to the instep of her foot. It was an erogenous zone for her and he knew it, the smug bastard.
Taking his sweet time, he pressed open-mouthed kisses up her leg all the way to the top of her thigh before moving to the other limb and doing it all over again. His five o’clock shadow rasped against her skin sending tingles through her veins. By the time he flicked his tongue over her clit she was a shaking, moaning mess of a woman.
Logan crawled up her body, his cock trapped against her belly as he kissed her deeply, his tongue rubbing playfully against hers. He nudged at her entrance and she reached down to grab his muscled ass, digging her fingers in and urging him to give her what only he could.
He thrust in, his hips snapping forward and she groaned at the sweetness of being impaled so deeply and fully. They knew each other so well, they began their dance as naturally as breathing. Her pelvis swayed side to side with each stroke so that he rubbed her clit with every thrust. As keyed up as she already was it didn’t take long until she was teetering on the precipice, ready to tumble over any second.
“Baby, tell me you’re close.”
His voice sounded like bits of gravel and glass and his soft breath on her shoulder made her tremble as it skidded over her quivering flesh.
“Just…one…more…yes.”
The last word was said far more loudly than the others and any birds napping in the trees probably flew away in fright, but Ava didn’t care as her body shook and pleasure cascaded through her veins leaving her wrung out and limp. Logan reached his peak as well and she watched as she always did, still amazed that this was her man. He was a heap of trouble and a hell of a lot of work, but he was hers to love and care for. She’d never take that for granted.
No matter what happened here in Corville, they were a team. They’d face it together.