His tongue licked his plush, decadent lips. “Look at your cunt. I wanted to forget how perfect you are. Not for one day, Aster, not for one day.”
“Please.” My hips bucked.
“What do you need?”
“I need to feel you.”
Without hesitation, he drove two big fingers inside me.
That was all it took to tear me apart.
An orgasm gathered from the inner parts of me, where I’d hidden him away, where I’d kept him like a dirty secret when he’d been the most beautiful part of my life.
And I split.
Rapture took hold. A perfect eruption that burst in my body.
And I was heading in that one singular direction where I knew I shouldn’t go.
Soaring.
Shooting.
My North Star.
“Fuck. I feel it, Aster baby, I feel what I do to you.”
I gasped and shook and arched from the bed.
“Tell me again.” It was the rough scrape of a demand from his mouth.
I didn’t need him to clarify. “You. You.”
It has always been you.
A truth that would get him killed if anyone knew.
My eyes pinched closed as I was rushed with regret, overcome by the reality of my stupidity.
My recklessness.
Agony fisted with the bliss.
His hand was suddenly on my chin, squeezing tight, the word harsh and hard when he said, “Don’t.”
My eyes peeled open, and I blinked at the raw beauty that hovered over me. “I never should have come here.”
He cracked an arrogant grin. “Oh, you’re gonna come, Aster. Again and again.”
A blush rushed to my cheeks, sweet, sweet heat, that swoony, goofy boy I’d once known cracking through the surface of who he’d become.
“Logan.” My voice turned tender, and I reached up and traced the cut on his mouth. Anger burned from my soul—because I knew.
I knew.
Logan took me by the wrist and drew those fingers into his mouth. He hummed as he sucked.
That barely sated fire leapt.