Deadly Sins Read online

  Archer stared at the evidence bag in shock, then back to Logan.

  “My God, it really was him,” Archer said softly, the shock impossible now to hide.

  “Oh, it was him.” Logan sat down in one of the chairs that surrounded the small kitchen table. “Trust me, Archer, it was the Slasher. I just want to know how he got past her security system, and I want to know who the hell he is.”

  He didn’t have to say anything more.

  Whoever he was, he was a dead man walking, because Logan had every intention of killing him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Hours later, much too long to suit Logan, he watched as Skye walked from the bathroom, slowly drying her hair as yards of silken material whispered from her breasts to her feet as she moved.

  She’d insisted on returning to her house rather than his. Demanded that Logan take her home until he’d finally given in. He’d carried her into the house after Archer and his deputy, John Caine, did a thorough search of the house. He’d helped secure every door and window as well while she showered.

  The doors were secured with more than the security system and door locks. Until he could figure out how the Slasher had gotten into her home, Logan had had Archer, personally, place heavy bolt locks on them while he went to the hospital with Skye.

  Each window was secured with heavy boards placed between the frame and bottom portion to keep the window from being raised.

  The less technical security measures would ensure no one got in without making enough noise to warn him well ahead of time. And they wouldn’t have been necessary if Skye hadn’t insisted. Just as she wouldn’t be in her own house if she would have just listened to him and come back to his instead.

  She was herself again, albeit with a few bruises. Sassy as hell and more than pissed off.

  But she was alive.

  That was all that mattered.

  She was alive, and as she dropped the towel and moved to him, Logan couldn’t help but pull her to him, almost shaking with the need to touch her.

  To feel her breathing.

  To feel her belonging to him.

  As he held her, Skye couldn’t help but close her eyes, the memory of her brush with death striking at her with terrifying clarity.

  The overdose of chemicals on the cloth should have killed her. The doctors had actually been amazed Logan had kept her breathing until the EMTs had arrived.

  Her heart was racing so fast now it felt as though it would race straight from her body. There was a fine tremble quivering through her body, quivering through her hands as the need to touch him became overwhelming.

  “You’re not going to listen to good sense, are you?” he finally asked as she watched him silently.

  “And leave?” she asked as he moved to her.

  At his sharp nod she could only shake her head back at him. “I owe Amy more than to just walk away now.”

  “Let me take care of it, Skye,” he asked softly then, staring down at her as he watched her intently. “Vengeance is my job and I have this covered.”

  “And I’ve dreamed of taking this bastard down nearly half my life. It’s not a dream I’m willing to give up. And I’m not willing to give you up either, Logan. I won’t let him win.”

  “This isn’t a game, Skye.” His expression was somber, his tone filled with warning.

  “No, it’s not a game,” she agreed. “It’s twelve years of your life stolen and eight women dead who didn’t deserve to die in the attempt to frame you and your cousins and ensure you have no one to turn to. For God’s sake, Logan, don’t you think there are people who care for the three of you? Who need to see you safe?”

  “Then they need to stay out of it,” he growled down at her as he moved back from her and raked his fingers through his hair with an edge of frustration.

  Skye shook her head, smiling back at him mockingly. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Don’t you know anything but fucking defying me? Would you listen for a change?”

  “Say something sensible and I might consider it,” she suggested flippantly before gasping at the hold that was suddenly on her upper arms and the pressure of his chest against her breasts as he dragged her to him.

  Gripping his forearms and staring back at him in defiance, she arched her brow back at him.

  There was nothing left for him to say.

  Hell, he couldn’t think of anything to say past the hunger, the need, and the desperation to have her.

  The hunger to touch her, to taste her.

  To fuck them both into exhaustion.

  Tangling his fingers in her hair, feeling the silken mass of curls against his flesh, he pulled her head back slowly. Dark lashes dropped slumberously; her eyes gleamed with sudden, unmistakable arousal.

  He didn’t think about it before he kissed her. He never thought about it first. The overwhelming urge to just do it was always there, and always impossible to fight.

  Their lips fit together like two pieces of a whole. Conforming naturally, heatedly, as he took long, drugging tastes of the sensuality that was so much a part of her.

  Dragging her closer, his arms surrounding her, Logan could feel the warm weight of her breasts against his chest, feel the need surging between them, amplifying a hunger already raging out of control.

  Tearing his lips from hers was almost impossible. He wanted her kisses like a man dying of thirst wanted water. But he wanted her naked. Wanted her warm flesh against him and the sweet heat of her need burning through him.

  Gripping the edge of her soft blouse, he pulled it up slowly, watching the graceful lift of her arms as he pulled it over her head, then tossed it carelessly to the floor.

  Firm, lush breasts rose and fell quickly, tight, hard little nipples pressing against the pure white lace of her bra. Cupping the generous weight, he raked his fingers over the hardened tips and was rewarded by a throttled, hungry little moan.

  It was a flick of his finger and thumb to release the catch between her breasts; then he was peeling the cups back and pushing the straps over her shoulders and down her arms.

  Lowering his head, the need to taste her nipples had his mouth watering. Slowly dragging the straps of her gown over her shoulders and breasts, Logan brushed over the stiff peaks of her nipples,

  Pushing the material over her thighs, Logan gripped them and pulled her closer, sucking a nipple inside his mouth and laving it with his tongue.

  Watching her eyes closely, Logan ran his hands down her legs, then moved both to the soft rise of her ass and clenched his fingers delicately. As he drew on the tender tip, her nimble fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. She released them slowly as she breathed out raggedly, little moans rising from her as she worked around the fact that he refused to release her nipple and give her better access.

  As she pushed the material from her shoulders, Logan released her nipple, gripped her hips again, and then turned her to lower her to the bed.

  How much longer he would be able to wait before taking her, Logan wasn’t certain. He knew that having her was something that was going to have to happen.

  He wouldn’t be able to survive without it.

  Catching one of the tight peaks between his lips as he moved over her once again, the arch of her body, the cry that fell from her lips, filling his senses, he sucked it into his mouth with hungry demand.

  He couldn’t get enough of her.

  Each flick of his tongue over her nipples, each draw of his mouth, had her hands tightening at his shoulders or her nails raking against them as he sucked at her nipples demandingly.

  The feel of her fingers raking through his hair, her nails rasping his scalp, had shards of sensation attacking his balls, tightening and pouring wave after wave of pleasure through his body.

  God, he needed her.

  Gripping her thighs, he spread them farther before sliding his hands to the sides of her ass and pulling her closer to him. His lips moved between her breasts, his tongue swiping over her flesh to taste
the sweet vanilla and sugar taste of her before kissing his way down.

  “Logan,” she whispered sensually as he eased her further back on the bed.

  Propping herself on her elbows, she watched him, her gaze drowsy, hungry as he began kissing his way along the silky flesh of her stomach to her rounded thighs.

  His tongue licked over silky skin as his lips took sipping, sometimes-suckling kisses. He brushed his beard against her thighs and his body tightened at the moan that left her lips. As he brushed it against the soft, nude flesh of her pussy, her hands found their way to his hair again and bunched in the strands at the top of his head.

  Fighting the need to rush, to relieve that ache driving inside him, Logan throttled the lust tearing at him. It was a battle to give her all the exquisite pleasure possible, because he had to convince her she didn’t have his heart.

  A heart he knew already belonged to her.

  *

  Skye couldn’t hold back her cries any longer. The feel of his lips brushing against the sensitive folds of flesh, his tongue licking at it erotically, was unbearably good. Lying back, her fingers buried in his hair, clenched in the coarse strands, she held on for the riotous, fiery ride of pleasure building through her.

  Heat flushed through her body. Like a wave of liquid flames shooting through her veins it tore through her and burned straight to her pussy, to her clit.

  Each brush of his beard sent pinpricks of pleasure rushing through the naked folds and driving into the clenched tissue of her vagina.

  She wanted—

  “Oh, God, I want—”

  “What do you want, baby? Tell me?” he demanded, his voice rough. “All you have to do is tell me.”

  She had spoken aloud? She hadn’t meant to.

  His beard brushed over the wet lips of her pussy and a flood of juices caressed the sensitive flesh inside.

  “Touch me more, Logan,” she whispered. “Please, I need more.”

  “How?”

  “God, I don’t know how!” she all but wailed. “Just give me more.”

  His fingers eased up the slit, parted her, only to follow with the wet heat of his tongue in a long, slow lick.

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed out, unable to hold back the low, drawn-out moan. “Oh, yes, Logan. Do it again.”

  He did it again, but as he licked over her clit his tongue stiffened to tuck against the side of it and rub. He just rubbed against it, using the thin layer of skin between his tongue and the side of her clit for added friction.

  Pleasure built to an agonizing need for release. Her clit swelled and throbbed, her juices easing from her, saturating the folds of her sex, the feel of them caressing that inner flesh almost more than she could bear.

  “Again,” she moaned.

  His tongue probed at the little bud again, circled it, added to the friction, and rubbed harder against the side of the bundle of nerves before flicking over it.

  Broad male fingers parted her lips, rimmed the entrance. Lifting her hips to facilitate his stroking fingers, she moaned at the need. Skye cried out breathlessly as he worked it slowly inside her pussy.

  So slowly.

  She could feel every rasp of his finger inside her as he caressed her, moving with slow, deliberate motions and small, stroking thrusts until he buried the digit full length inside her.

  His tongue tortured her clit with nearing rapture, holding back just enough to keep her from her orgasm, pulling her from the edge each time the rasp of his tongue rotated against the side of her clit.

  When he capped his lips over it and sucked at it with firm draws of his lips she nearly went through the roof. Pinpoints of sizzling sensation struck at her clit, at the tender depths of her pussy. His finger stroked and rubbed deep inside her, adding to the friction that burned around the tender bud of her clitoris.

  Her hips writhed beneath his touch. Circling against his tongue, arching to him, desperate to make each caress deeper, firmer. Until his hands clamped on them, holding her still as his tongue became a wicked instrument of sensual torture.

  “Logan,” she said, breathless, locked in a pleasure she couldn’t escape and had no desire to end, despite the fact that she was certain she couldn’t survive it.

  Her head tossed, rolling from side to side as the need for more sensation became so overwhelming her hands unlocked from his hair and cupped the mounds of her breasts.

  Tight and hard, her nipples were painfully stiff, demanding touch, if only her own. Gripping the rigid peaks, she pulled at them, gasping at the lightning-swift strikes of furious sensation that raced to her womb from Logan’s suckling mouth, and the flares of red-hot pleasure that struck her nipples.

  Her thighs tightened as his finger pulled back, her muscles clenching desperately at the loss of fullness until his finger returned in an even, pulse-pounding stroke, calloused and feeling thicker than it should as Logan worked it inside, careful to stroke every nerve ending possible along the way.

  Crooking his finger as it reached the farthest depth of her, he then found a new, violently sensitive area to torment and torture.

  She nearly lifted from the grip he had her in with his free hand. As she bucked against him, her fingers pulling at her nipples, a strangled cry came from her lips.

  She was there.

  So close.

  She could feel it racing through her, each incredible sensation, like fingers all over her body, inside every erogenous zone, stroking and rasping over nerve endings so delicate her body could barely process the pleasure.

  She tingled. Burned.

  Her clit became impossibly tighter, harder, throbbing with exquisite agony until the tip of his tongue tightened again, tucked against the side of her clitoris, and did that thing again.

  That thing where he rolled it against her clit, rasping against such an incredibly sensitive nerve ending that she wondered if she would survive it.

  She couldn’t survive it. She couldn’t breathe for it. Waves of sensation tightened, coalesced, until—

  “Damn you. No!”

  He was gone.

  “Don’t. Please, Logan, no.” She would kill him. “You can’t—”

  Stop?

  His hands curved around her thighs and jerked her closer as he came between them, tucking the head of his cock between the slick, swollen folds of her pussy.

  “Logan,” she breathed out harshly, realizing her nails were biting into his forearms.

  Iron hard. Thick.

  She breathed in hard as the entrance to her pussy began to stretch.

  Skye couldn’t decide if it was pleasure or pain. It was such a mix of both, so intense and overwhelming, that she felt as though she were burning from the inside out.

  “So fucking tight,” he groaned as she stared back at him, the sensations so overwhelming it was all she could do to keep from screaming with the agony and the ecstasy of it. “Are you a damned virgin?”

  He paused, a flare of something like panic filling his eyes.

  Skye shook her head desperately.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged as she felt a rush of her juices spilling to further lubricate the entrance he was pushing into.

  His hips jerked as her muscles tightened further, stroking the broad head a fraction deeper as she cried out weakly.

  As he slid one hand from her hip, the pad of his thumb tucked against the side of her clit, as he’d done with his tongue moments before.

  His thumb rolled and pressed against the little bud. Her clit swelled further, her juices, slick and hot, spilled from her pussy as he pressed in farther. Stretching her, the heavy flesh opening her, revealing nerve endings more sensitive than those found before and stroking over them, caressing them.

  “Logan, oh God, it’s so good.” Her knees lifted, tightening on his hips as the crest slipped in completely and the hard throb of his cock pulsed just inside her.

  Struggling to open her eyes, to stare up at him, she watched a fine bead of perspiration as it ran in a thin rivulet down his
face to disappear into his beard.

  Dark, dark emerald eyes stared into hers, held her, mesmerized her, as her pussy clenched around the heavy, invasive width of his cock head.

  It was like a burning conflagration tightening inside her, moving slowly forward, possessing her.

  “Logan, more—” it was a whisper, a too-quiet cry, because she wasn’t certain he could hear the plea for the pounding of her heart.

  Easing back, he came forward again, a slow, firm press of his hips, a stroke of burning sensation, a delicate rasp against flesh so excited that each caress was fire and ice.

  His expression tightened, his jaw bunching, as she felt his cock throb harder, a feeling as though it was expanding thicker inside her, pressing against tissue already overstretched and struggling to accept the width.

  Each throb of his cock and the muscles of her vagina clenched, stroked his cock head, flexing around it and tightening, desperate to draw him deeper.

  She needed him.

  She needed him fully inside her.

  She needed all those incredible sensations racing through her.

  Arching to him, thighs tightening at his hips, her back bowed from the counter and he was inside her deeper. Just a little deeper.

  “No. Fuck. Skye, baby, slow.” Hoarse and strained, his voice sounded as broken as her control.

  But not broken enough. Not far enough in the same vortex she was fighting to slip farther inside.

  “More,” she moaned again. “Fuck me, Logan. Please, please fuck me—”

  The words were cut off for the simple reason that she had to inhale. Sharply. Her eyes widened, her body tensing as he buried inside her almost halfway. He pulled back, and she watched his face tighten further, his eyes drifting closed before he gave in to it, the incredible hunger swirling around them.

  Moving, his hips thrusting his cock deeper, deeper inside her, working it past the tight, flexing tissue of her vagina and stroking nerve endings she hadn’t known she had or could have known were so sensitive.

  She was more aroused than she had ever been. Each stretch, each fierce throb and heated stroke, amplified the sensations already expanding out of control.