LOGINHe was supposed to be a fantasy. A younger man with a filthy mouth and a dangerous smile. But when Aria lied about her age, she didnât expect Logan to show up at her doorâwith a hard-on, a temper, and a past soaked in blood. Aria Monroe is rich, powerful, and lonely. At thirty-eight, sheâs tired of fake friends, shallow men, and pretending she doesnât crave something real. On a whim, she uploads a younger photo to a dating app⊠and gets matched with Logan Reedâa cocky, ex-military heartthrob ten years her junior. Their connection? Instant. Addictive. Dangerous. But when Logan finds out she lied, he doesnât walk away. He comes closer. He kisses her like a punishment. He fucks her like revenge. And when threats begin circling her life like vultures, Logan turns savage. Heâll kill for her. Bleed for her. Burn down her world to keep her. Even if she fights him every step of the way. Age means nothing when obsession takes over. But Aria's secrets run deeper than her lies⊠And Loganâs darkness? Itâs just beginning.
View More(Loganâs POV)Her laugh is low, breathy, and so damn wrecked it curls in my chest like a satisfied monster.We donât move for a long minute. Her headâs buried against my neck, her pulse thumping like a hummingbird. My cockâs still inside her, softening, but the weight of us is too real to shake off.Then she shifts. Just a little. A sharp inhale and a hiss.âJesus,â she mutters, âmy thighs are trembling.ââGood,â I say, brushing damp hair from her cheek. âThey should be.âShe glares up at me â weak, flushed, furious. âYouâre proud of yourself, arenât you?âI smirk. âFucking ecstatic.âShe pushes at my chest, but her arms are noodles and we both know it. I roll off her, dragging her with me, keeping her wrapped up and bare and ruined against my chest. Her skin is flushed, glowing. Her lips, bitten red. My marks are everywhere, and yeah â I feel a possessive growl stir again.âStop looking at me like that,â she says, not even opening her eyes.âLike what?ââLike youâre about to pounce
(Loganâs POV)Sheâs limp under me, trembling, still dripping around my cock. Her hair is a mess, lipstick smeared across her cheek. Iâm still hard, still inside her, still tasting her moans on my tongue.I pull out slow, just to hear the wet sound it makes. Her whimper shoots straight to my spine.âDonât look at me like youâre done,â I mutter, running a thumb over her swollen lower lip. âI told you I wasnât finished.ââLoganâŠâ she breathes, voice wrecked.âWhat?â I lean in close, licking the corner of her mouth. âThink that little orgasm means you get a break? Cute.âBefore she can answer, I scoop her up off the couch. Her gasp punches the air. Sheâs light in my arms, but her curves press against me, warm and soft.âYouâre insane,â she whispers against my neck.âYeah,â I say, biting her earlobe. âInsane for you. Now shut up and hold on.âI carry her down the hallway, cock still hanging heavy, bouncing against her thigh. Every step I take she shivers, rubbing against me. I slam my bed
(Loganâs POV)The words still hang between us, hot and heavy, when I pin her with my stare. She flinches, not from fear but because her body knows what mine is about to do.She thinks sheâs safe in that robe, thinks a smirk and a smart mouth can keep me at bay. Sheâs wrong.I stalk forward, slow, deliberate, until her back hits the couch. Sheâs breathing hard already, chest rising fast, robe slipping loose.âLoganâââShut up,â I growl, my hand catching her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. âYou had two nights to breathe without me, two nights to convince yourself you donât want this. And look at you nowâshaking, dripping, staring at me like youâd spread your thighs just to get my cock back inside you.âHer lips part, no denial on them. Just that ragged, broken exhale.I press my mouth to hers, not soft, not coaxingâtaking. Tongue shoving past her teeth, hand gripping her throat just enough to make her gasp. Her body arches, traitor to every word she wants to say.When I tear my mouth
(Loganâs POV)She can yell. She can snap. But sheâs not asking me to leave.Sheâs arguing like she already knows Iâm staying.And thatâthatâs the first win of the day. ***I don't see her again for hours.She disappears to her office like itâs a fucking bunker, probably hoping Iâll vanish if she works long enough. Spoiler alert: I donât.By the time she comes back I'm in the living room, the sunâs low, casting honeyed shadows across her white furniture. She looks tiredâeyes soft, posture loose, tension dripping from her shoulders. She probably expected to find the house quiet.She probably forgot who the fuck I am.Because there I am, stretched across her couch in nothing but low-slung sweatpants, one arm thrown over the back, remote in hand, fully relaxedâlike I own every square inch of this place.âYouâre still here?â she says, blinking like Iâm a hallucination.I smirk. âYou say that like Iâm not the best thing thatâs ever happened to your living






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