Bedeviled Angel (33 page)

"Him? Oh, he's never been more alive, whimpering, weeping in anticipation, aching to sing in full-throated glory." Logan chuckled, as he hardened even more,

"but my other brain is doing the talking right now. My word on it."

"Alive, yes," Melody said. "Me, too. Like that storm raging around us, gathering energy and momentum. Let's finish what we started too many times to count."

"God, yes," he said. "Now, when the world can't get to us. Take my hands," he whispered on a kiss that lingered as he rose to hover over her.

He held himself apart as they kissed and kissed, fingers entwined.

With no one to interrupt, they could take the kiss as far as they wanted. Farther than the kitchen, the elevator, the cloak room, as far as consummation. Logan stiffened and held himself away from her, nothing but hands and lips touching. Not yet.

"Let me touch you," Melody said.

"No," Logan said on a smile. "I want to make it last, Mizzz Impatience."

"You're going to kill me. I'll make the news. 'Salem's own Kitchen Witch dies of lust. In a spectacular bid for an orgasm—'"

"Shut up!"

Logan kissed her, as hungry, she thought with satisfaction, and as possessive and wildly frantic as she.

"I'M dying, too," he said. "We'll make it last until we can't bear it. I have protection in the bathroom, then we'll fly away together. No broom necessary."

"Protection! Good. Oh, but hell, we'll have to stop for that."

"It'll slow us down, Mel, make us wait. That's good. It prolongs the pleasure."

"As a multiorgasmic creature, I'll have you know that I plan on seconds, thirds…

maybe more—"

"Oh God." Logan surged again, as if he'd lost control. Melody arched as well, to meet and tease him.

Logan ravaged her mouth, nuzzled and licked her neck, swooped and let their bodies touch, then he swore and rolled away and off the bed.

Melody gasped and sat up. "What's wrong?"

"Too many clothes." He began to tear at his buttons. "Take the shirt off. No, wait. I want to take it off you myself."

He knelt beside her on the bed, his erection tenting his shirttails.

Melody smiled, undid his buttons while he undid hers. She planned to take possession of that erection the minute she freed it into her greedy little hands. But Logan got to her breasts first, his mouth distracting her, nuzzling her. He teased beside and around her nipples, making them erect, making them ache for the pull and abrasion of his tongue.

"You're torturing me," she cried, nearly weeping with need.

"You've been torturing me for months."

"Hey, you're not the only one."

"Since when?" he asked.

"Tall ships day, my kitchen."

"The first time you opened your door."

"That day," she said. "Yes."

He tongued her nipple, but she wanted to feel the pull of him suckling. She arched and all but put her nipple in his mouth. He chuckled and denied her, kissed her to her navel.

Melody squeaked in frustration. "I wanted to spread something warm over you that first day. Me."

He sat back. "What?"

She reached for his shirt and pulled him back to her. "I lived the fantasy that night in your living room chair, remember?"

"Remember? The sound of you coming in my hand keeps me awake nights. I dream about it, wake up hard, like now."

"Let me see how hard."

He slapped her hand away. "Not yet."

"You have my breasts. It's only fair that I should have something to play with."

"Not yet. Keep talking like that, though, and I'll come before you get a chance."

Melody threw her head back and gave a mock howl of frustration.

"Shh! You'll have Tony up here for sure." Logan chuckled as he freed her from his shirt and threw off his own. He went for protection.

"Bring the box!" Melody called after him. Screw making it last, he'd given her no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

Yes, she wanted instant gratification, damn it. She'd waited a long time to get Logan into bed. Shame on her if she couldn't beat him at his blasted "let's make it last" game.

She'd take him captive, shirtless and hair mussed, pupils dilated with lust, and hard as the proverbial rock.

Melody grinned as she watched him return.

When Logan knelt over her and made to nuzzle her breasts, she slugged him hard in the shoulder.

He reared back, puzzled, speechless.

"Damn it," she said, raising herself on her elbows, arching so as to point her breasts his way and keep him focused. "We've been hot for each other, jumped each other, got interrupted every time, and you want to make it last? Are you nuts? I want hot, fast, fly-me-to-the-stars sex, Kilgarven, and I want it now!"

Logan wanted to laugh, scream in frustration, shout in triumph, and for the first time ever, he wanted to make love. Ignoring the heart-skip the insane thought brought, he focused on the task at hand. "You wicked, impatient witch, you. Hard and fast, you say? Okay, you asked for it." He started to rip off her panties, found her bikinis as royally sexy, and blue, as her dress, and had to keep himself from swooping in for a taste.

"Later," she said. "Hot and fast now, slow and tantalizing later."

"Right."

He kept going, got her naked, then he let her have at him. She pulled off his slacks with due haste, but stopped halfway to his knees. "Time out. Black briefs. Oh, glory."

"Why, thank you." But while she appreciated, he grew more rigid and uncomfortable before her eyes.

"Yum," she said.

"Too late to savor, Witch, you wanted it fast. You're getting it fast." Logan shed his slacks in record time.

"Oh," she said, still focused on the nest of his arousal. "Just let me feel all that nice soft black cotton… and everything." She stroked him through the briefs, took him from his cocoon and into her greedy hands, and turned him into her submissive slave. She handled him with gentle reverence, kneading and nuzzling with fingers and lips, growing him, breath by gasping breath, stroking him against her cheek, nibbling with her lips, until he got so close to coming, he took her down on top of him.

"So much for making it last," he said as he slid into her, in one fast, incredible thrust, burying himself to the hilt, satisfying a longing so sharp, it hurt to achieve, yet felt so wondrous, he could hardly bear it. He wanted the same wild and unexpected pleasure for her, and more. He wanted to make a memory.

She came almost at once, making him slick, easing his heaving way. When he caught his breath, when they both did, he rolled her to her back, still inside her, and rose over her. "That's one," he said.

"More," she said arching, pulsing tight around him as if to help.

"Greedy," he said, rising to the occasion and going for two, pretty certain that giving her as many orgasms as she wanted, before his turn came, would about kill him.

She wrapped those incredible legs around him, taking him in, working him deeper still, with muscles that pulled and swallowed, kneaded and pulsed.

He began to move faster; he had to. She was milking him, wringing sanity from him with every pulsing beat, every rotation of her hips, each stroke of her palm and scratch of her nails.

She came again, thank God, and he'd survived, amazingly. But he was falling deeper under her spell with every involuntary squeak, every explosive orgasm in which she took full and uninhibited pleasure. Have mercy.

When he thought he couldn't take a second more of her torture, when he pumped into her so hard, he was afraid he'd hurt her, Melody reached between them with both hands, cupped his balls, and held them firm against her. Logan groaned and he growled, begged her to stop, begged for more, and he knew in a flash that no other woman would ever mean as much to him as this one.

He cried out, cursed her, and kissed her as if to devour her, and spilled his seed in a climax that made any previous explosion seem like nothing in comparison.

If he lived, he thought—his heart beating in his head like a drum—he would survive to be a hundred, because he was tougher than he imagined.

"Melody?" He pushed himself up in a panic, fought dizziness. "Oh God, I've killed you." He'd pinned her to the bed, crushed her, hair wet, face pale and still. She wasn't even breathing.

He rolled off her, called her name, felt for a pulse at her throat. "Melody? Melody, speak to me."

"Shh." She didn't open her eyes. "I'm floating."

Logan laughed and collapsed, pulled her against him, and buried his face in her neck. "Thank God." He let himself float as well, until the air in the room nipped a chill along his nether regions and the wind outside the window became louder than the pounding of his heart. He grabbed a blanket, pulled it over them, felt Melody's slowing heartbeat, the gentle way she breathed as she slept.

As he warmed, Logan began to replay every incredible fly-me-to-the-stars moment.

Melody woke, feeling his talented hands raising her again toward that star-sprinkled place where he'd brought her before. "Mmm." She stretched like a cat so supremely content it didn't want to move. "Now," she said, all but purring. "Now it can be slow, sensuous, lay me on a cloud sex."

Logan laughed and kissed her. He kissed her slow and easy and with the experience of a lover. "More, she wants, after she's damned near killed me."

"Tell me another one. We have to do it in the shower, too," she said. "I want my fair share. I will not have Nikky one-upping me in the shower."

Logan pretended to pass out from exhaustion, but when she began to lift his eyelids, he laughed and pulled her full atop him. "Good thing I didn't know you were insatiable or that you kept all those tricks up your sleeve, or I'd have been walking around embarrassing myself for weeks."

"That's exactly what you were doing."

Logan chuckled. "I'd hoped no one noticed."

"Everyone noticed. What time is it?"

Logan put on the light to see his watch. "Nearly five."

"Come on, we're running out of time." Melody hopped out of bed and reached for his hand.

Logan groaned and fell back against the pillows. "It's too early to get up."

"Exactly. I have time to make you cry for mercy in the shower."

He opened his eyes. "I hate to admit this, but I think you ruined me."

"That's okay, stud, leave everything to me. I love raising the devil." She gave him a wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

Logan rose and followed. "How is it that you're so talented, after having so little practical experience?"

She struck a match to light some candles. "I read a lot."

"That must be some reading material. What are you doing?"

"Setting the mood," she said. "Gold is for attraction." She purred and lit a gold candle. "Ruby red is for passion. Start the shower, why don't you? I like it nice and… hot."

After Logan got in the shower, Melody lit the indigo candle, for defenses, as in, she would need plenty, because she was falling, and hard, for Logan, "stuffed suit,"

Kilgarven.

"Books, huh?" he said when she got in and began to soap him up in the most seductive manner she could manage.

She looked up at him. "And I was primed."

"I've heard that before."

"Well, this time I'm telling the truth."

She saw the dawning in his eyes as he kissed her, with relief and passion, and maybe something as frightening as she herself had been feeling. Where was that indigo magic when you needed it?

"You were supposed to let me do all the work," she said, a breathless few minutes later. "Here, hold on to the top edge of the stall on both sides and don't let go. I'll take care of everything."