“Yes, Logan.” She closed her eyes. “I was wet before you touched me with your mouth.”

“Open your eyes. Always look at me.”

She did, her lashes fluttering wide until she had nowhere to look but his intent blue stare.

“Good.” He breathed against her mound, and every nerve below her waist tensed, pooled hot with need. “Your kiss yesterday told me how hungry you are for satisfaction. I know you want it even now. Will you be brave enough to accept it?”

Oh, God. He’d read her like an open book. Tara drew in a deep breath. She had to do this. For Darcy and her own success as a field agent, she’d need to be able to perform any act asked of her. For herself, she needed to see if this time with Logan would patch up the empty, gaping hole of unfulfilled desire inside her.

“Yes, Logan.”

“Excellent.”

He didn’t hesitate for an instant before settling his mouth over her pussy again and swiping his tongue underneath her clit, then over it, laving the little bud with almost more friction than she could take. But somehow, he knew exactly how far he could push her before the pleasure became too much. Logan backed away, blowing cool air over her slick, overheated folds, and rubbed his thumb over the needy bundle of nerves. Her entire body jerked and heat brewed between her trembling legs.

“Hmm, Cherry. You’re as sweet as I remember.” He brushed his tongue over her birthmark, the one inside her thigh that he’d been seemingly fascinated with at sixteen. “I’d love to spend a day with my mouth on your pussy, lapping at you while you shiver and swell. And give me all that sweet cream. I want you to come. I want to stay at you until you shake and cry and beg, not sure if you want me to stop or taste that pretty cunt all over again.”

A big boom of desire dropped right between her legs, adding to the already torturous ache. How did he do that to her, so quickly and easily? Mere seconds, and she was panting. Arousal overtook her senses. No way she could pretend that she didn’t want every tingling bit of sin his deep voice promised.

“Logan . . .”

“I’m here, baby.”

Not a moment passed before he pried her open with his thumbs and stroked his tongue all the way from her seeping hole up, up, over the hard knot of her clit. Dizziness swept over Tara in waves, euphoric, surreal. God, at sixteen, he’d made her feel so good. Given her first orgasm ever with that patient, talented tongue. Then, it had taken time, and his endless little licks had built, finally escalating into something spectacular.

This orgasm was going to burst over her in a flash like a fireball of sensation. It would make every self-induced climax for the last dozen years feel like a lame joke. She clenched her fists. Climbing desire tightened her body until every muscle clenched. As wrong as Logan was for her, she needed this orgasm, and only he seemed able to give it to her.

Instead of pushing her over the edge, Logan sat back on his heels and looked up expectantly. What did he want from her? Tara clenched her fists above the unyielding manacles, dying a small death inside as she panted and writhed. “Logan . . .”

“Tell me you need it.”

Below the ridge of his dark brow, he stared at her with eyes like blue fire. His nostrils flared. His taut mouth twitched, as if lifting into a snarl, before he forced it back in line.

That expression said that he wanted her—badly. Worse, he looked willing to do anything to make her want him that badly in return.

But he didn’t have to try at all.

Tara’s shaky breath couldn’t quite fill her lungs. He was breaking her down, and somehow, being on this cross, at his mercy, stripped her bravado and revealed the woman beneath. Even if her mind shied away, her body craved it. Worse, no matter how badly he’d burned her before, some part of her trusted his strength, his tenacity, that searing desire all over his face.

“I—I need it,” she admitted.

From her knee, he smoothed his hand upward. Tara couldn’t take her eyes off the contrast of those strong, dark fingers against the pale flesh of her thigh. Her breathing hitched as his touch inched closer and closer to the burning ache in her pussy.

He planted a soft kiss on her hip and teasing her clit with his thumb again. “Thank you for your honesty. Your body is so sweetly ripe. Flushed, wet, trembling. I can barely wait to get my mouth on you again.”

Tara cried out at his words. She couldn’t move much, but wriggled her hips, urging her pussy closer to his waiting lips just a few inches away.

Logan inched back, then lifted his thumb off her aching clit.

“Please . . .” She was begging and she knew it. He knew it. Yet she’d never needed pleasure this desperately. Her body felt as if she’d been waiting for twelve cold years for him.

Slowly, he swiped his thumb, all but dripping with her cream, over his tongue. Then he closed his lips around the digit and sucked with closed eyes and a moan. “Fuck, yeah.”

The ecstasy prowling across his face aroused her even more.

Before she could take a breath, that thumb was back on her exposed, engorged nubbin, rubbing in slow circles. “You really need it, Cherry?”

“Yes!” she gasped, willing to say anything. She’d worry about repairing the damage to her pride and her engagement later.

“All you have to do is say that you need me to give it to you.”

Shock ricocheted through her. It was true, but admitting that to him gave him so much power over her. “I already said that I need to come.”

He shook his head. “That’s only half of the admission. Give me the rest.”

Logan was going to make her surrender both body and mind—to him. She wanted to despise him for it, but she needed him too damn badly. His Cheshire cat smile said that he knew it.

“Fine. I—I need you to give it to me.”

“Not good enough. Be specific. Address me properly.”

Having him this near was an aphrodisiac, not to mention the hypnotic rhythm of his thumb over her responsive flesh. With every pass, every bit of friction he bestowed on the little bud, it swelled more, poked out from its hood, exposing the delicate, sensitive organ beneath. Tara gasped as he unraveled her. She ached to reach out and touch him. Since she couldn’t, she dug her nails into her palms. Her thighs clenched.

He started to back away again.

“Don’t!” she protested. “I need to come. I need you to make me come, Logan. Please.”

“You still owe me another thirteen spankings on that pretty bare ass for yesterday’s transgressions, but for your sweet request just now, I’ll grant your wish—with one condition: No holding back your screams.”

She gave him a feverish nod, willing to say or do almost anything for Logan.

If she wanted to know if he could ease the constant ache of her body, then she had to be woman enough to accept everything he gave her. Overcoming her apprehension and learning to give over control would be imperative to succeed on this the case, too.

His blue eyes darkened to something like midnight. Then he smiled—and leaned in.

The moment his mouth opened over her pussy and his tongue slid through her juices, her breath caught. God, it was like he hadn’t paused at all. Her desire was still pooled right on the edge, just waiting for that last shove over.

Logan moaned, and the vibrations made her clit tighten, tremble. If she’d had her hands free, Tara would have loved to plunge her fingers into that short hair and push his face deeper into her. But as he nibbled gently, then sucked her clit into his mouth, she moaned in return. Somehow, being manacled so that she couldn’t direct what Logan did was the most freeing thing of all. She had no responsibility. And she had no choice but to stay and take the pleasure he gave her.

“You’re so sweet, Cherry,” he whispered against her pussy, then shoved his fingers into the hot well of her sex.

It took him less than two seconds to find a spot that made her gasp with a sharp pleasure, so unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

“Y-Yes,” Tara sputtered. “Oh my God . . .”

“Never had your G-spot stimulated?”

Never. “Not like that,” she hedged.

“Hmm. I love being your first at so many things.”

Before she could process his words, he brushed his fingertips over that nerve-laden spot again and circled his tongue over her clit. Friction sparked fire all through her body.

“You’re ready now. Come for me, Cherry.”

With those magic words, Tara came apart in an instant, every nerve in her body escalating to a shattering crescendo unlike anything she’d ever felt. As promised, she screamed. And screamed. He didn’t relent until he’d wrung every spasm, shiver, and moan out of her.

The violent sensations raged through her body in a seemingly endless blast until the tension finally left her. As she sagged against the manacles, anger seeped out. Bravado buckled under the strain. He’d stripped away her ability to put on a front, leaving behind a terrible sense of naked vulnerability.

Logan pulled away from her pussy, licking his lips. He placed a reverent kiss on her lower abdomen, still twitching with aftershocks. With soft fingers, he petted her mound, kissing his way up her body. “Gorgeous. You did well, Cherry.”

When he stood, she didn’t know where to look. The floor? The bed across the room? Not at him. She feared begging for more. So she closed her eyes, but a terrible sense of exposure hit her. Tears leaked out. Her chest bucked with a sob. God, the release he’d given her had scrubbed her psyche cleaner than steel wool. She felt new and raw.

Tara sucked in a ragged breath, tried to bottle up her haywire emotions.

Logan wasn’t having any of that. Quickly, he released her manacles. Her rubbery legs wouldn’t support her weight, and she crashed into his arms. He caught her and carried her to the bed. Once he laid them down, he rolled to his back, draping her on top, soothing her with his body and a rhythmic caress up and down her spine.

“Let it out,” he encouraged.

She shook her head with a sniff, trying again to hold in all the emotions. “I’m sorry. I need to stop. This isn’t professional.”

“It’s necessary.” He cupped her face in the steely heat of his hands. “Doms will expect an honest response. Don’t lie and don’t front—or there will be punishment. Whatever you need to feel, feel it.”

His gentle voice encouraged, but Tara still wanted to crawl into a hole. She had to stop bawling and clinging to him. Instead, she buried her face in Logan’s neck and availed herself of the earthy musk and leather scents. She cuddled closer. How could he comfort her when he was the source of her distress?

“B-But I’m a damn FBI agent. I need t-to act like one.”

Quite simply, Logan brought out every emotion in her. She was usually good at keeping all that in; she had to be. But with him, she couldn’t seem to turn it off.

Logan wiped her fresh tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You have. This is part of training. You’re learning to give into your submissive nature. That’s what this mission requires.”

Perhaps, but she hadn’t been thinking about her mission with Logan’s mouth on her pussy. She’d been focused on pleasure, on her need for more. That reality filled her with shame.

“This feels so personal.” She scrambled off of his body to sit beside him, curling her knees into her chest.

“You feel off balance, and you’re not used to that.” He tucked a strand of fiery hair behind her ear. “That’s okay. Since you’re independent, you’re going to feel that way in a D/s relationship until you learn to flow with it and trust me. I’ll help you through it. Lie back.” With a gentle, but insistent hand, he pushed her to her back. “Right now, just breathe with me. In . . .”

He demonstrated, lying beside her, inhaling through his nose until his chest rose. Tara followed suit.

“Now let it out.” Logan exhaled until the air was gone, his shoulders slightly slumped.

Again, she did the same. Amazingly, her tears began to dry up. A sense of calm settled over her. It wouldn’t last. She had mountains to climb with this case—and Logan. But right now, she felt more settled than she had in months, maybe years.

But she also felt more connected to him than she ever had to any lover.

Before the alarm bells could go off in her head, Logan rolled over, his body half covering hers, and he possessed her mouth with his in a slow kiss of reverence. Endless, deep. It wasn’t meant to arouse. Instead, Tara had to fight the urge to burrow deeper into his embrace and cling. To connect with him again in every way.

Feelings like that could lead nowhere good. Logan would train her and disappear from her life. She had to be ready to feign an appropriate response to York or any other Dom presented to her.

She broke the kiss and eased to her feet, praying her legs would support her.

“I need a minute. Please. Then we’ll get back to work.” Tara reached for her clothes on the concrete floor.

Logan scooped them up before she could grab the first garment. He tucked the stack against his chest. “When you’re in my dungeon—in most Dom’s dungeons—you won’t be dressed beyond what they allow. If you need to go down the hall to the ladies’ room, I’ll give you your robe.” He placed her clothes in the wardrobe, then handed her the silky cream-colored garment. It wasn’t sheer, but it clung to every bump on her body, especially her stiff, aching nipples. She crossed her arms over her chest.