“Then go, baby,” he whispered.
I went.
Through it, I moaned. Turning my head so I was cheek to the bed, I ground back into him, my back arching as his finger worked my clit, his cock slamming inside me and again I was swept away.
“There you go, Millie,” he groaned, then his arm locked around my belly and he held fast as I took his pounding thrusts and listened to his harsh grunts as he came inside me.
I was coasting, no thought, just feeling, languid, peaceful, covered by my man, filled with him, and I stayed that way as he stayed that way.
Until his arm moved from around me, his hand trailing across my stomach, my side.
He flexed his hips into mine and my lips parted with a soft mew.
“My Millie,” he murmured.
Oh God.
I stayed still, covered with my man, filled with him, as his hand kept trailing.
To my back.
I started trembling when I felt his finger trace the ink.
“My Millie.”
I closed my eyes tight as the lazy slid away, the peace started slipping, and the emotion rolled back.
Logan slid out and shifted up. I felt pressure on my hip and at his nonverbal command, fell to my side.
I instantly curled into myself and kept my eyes closed.
I felt Logan’s presence leave. I heard the tap go on in the bathroom. Then I felt Logan’s presence come back.
I also felt the bed depress when he returned.
“Hitch your leg, beautiful,” he murmured.
I hitched my leg.
Gently, like he was so good at being, Logan cleaned between my legs.
When the washcloth was gone, I felt his lips at my hip before he was gone again.
But he came back.
I couldn’t keep my eyes closed when he got hold of me again, careful this time. Sweet, tender, he shifted me until we were back in bed, how we started, this time naked, the covers over us, me on top.
“Look at me, Millie,” he coaxed, his hand at the back of my neck resting, just his fingertips caressing the skin at the side.
I lifted my head slowly to look down at him and the moment I did, he lifted his other hand to cup my cheek.
“That is not a sacrifice I’m comfortable that you made,” he said quietly.
I licked my lips.
“Even sayin’ that,” he went on. “Knowin’ that’s the kind of love you have for me, that rocks me. Rocks me in a good way, baby. Knowin’ you were in so deep for me you didn’t let go even for a hookup, makes me feel like a dick sayin’ this, but I’m sensin’ you need to hear it, it means a lot.”
“I think you kinda communicated that with our, uh...?latest session.”
His gaze softened with humor but the intensity stayed put.
“I hate that for you,” he whispered. “I hate that you had that kind of lonely without me. And I love it at the same time.” His head tilted on the pillow. “Do you get that?”
“I think so,” I whispered.
“You suffered,” he whispered back.
“At my own hand,” I reminded him.
“I didn’t come back.”
I shut my mouth and felt my head twitch.
“Knew you. Knew us,” he declared. “Knew what we had. You got shot of me, knew that wasn’t right. But I didn’t come back. You suffered at my hand, too, Millie. And that fuckin’ sucks. I hate that most of all. But I vow to you right now, I’m gonna fix it.”
“I...” I shook my head. “Logan, it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t all yours either and it’s not cool you take that on.”
“But it was me—”
“And it was me who didn’t come back.”
I opened my mouth but he spoke.
“I didn’t love her.”
I shut my mouth again.
“You know that. Now you’ll know I never got close. Didn’t even try. What we had wasn’t about that and I think that’s part of the reason we had it. She’s not a woman who wants to be loved. She loves our girls but that’s all she wants out of life and she’s good with that. She made that plain. She did not suffer through what we had. We existed. And that’s all the effort either of us gave it. She gave as good as she got to us. That bein’ nothin’. She was down with that and so was I. Lookin’ back, that’s one of the reasons why I went in with her. Because I didn’t have to make the effort. I didn’t have to bury what was always at the surface even to pretend. Even in an effort not to hurt a decent woman.”
He stopped talking and when he said no more, I replied on a prompt, “Okay.”
“In other words, Millie, it’s only been you.”
I dragged in a ragged breath.
“It’ll only be you,” he went on.
I stared down at him.
He swept his thumb along the apple of my cheek. “So it’s gonna be my throat.”
My head twitched again.
“What?” I asked, and it came out breathy.
“You made the choice and even if you said you wanted it on my dick, I’d do that. I’d ink my cock with you. But I want anyone who sees me to know. Anyone who gets a look at my face. Not the back of my neck. No way somewhere hidden. They look at my face, they can see, right across my throat, I’m yours.”
A badass biker with his woman’s tat emblazoned across his throat?
That was huge.
Mammoth.
Oh shit.
I was going to cry again.
To battle that, I started breathing deep.
And to battle it, I had to concentrate on that and nothing else.
Therefore, I didn’t speak.
“That work for you?” he asked.
“I...?uh...?you...”
I cleared my throat.
Then it overwhelmed me and my body bucked with holding back the sob.
I couldn’t look at him, he was too beautiful, what he was saying was too colossal.
So I shoved my face in his neck and started deep breathing again.
Logan slid his hand into my hair and through it. Back to tangle his fingers again, he glided them through. And repeat, all while he muttered, “I’ll take that as it workin’ for you.”
I nodded.
Then I took time to pull myself together.
Logan let me.
Once I accomplished that gargantuan feat, I remarked, “Getting a tat on your throat is gonna hurt, Low.”