Logan's own restraint frayed. His hands moved over her… skimming the delicate dip of her waist, the slope of her ribs, the softness of her skin he'd ached to touch for so long.
They undressed each other in slow, breathless moments… kisses breaking, then crashing back together. Clothing hit the floor piece by piece, until nothing stood between them but heat, history, and a need too long denied.
Jean's hands trembled slightly, but her gaze held steady, silently telling him. This is what I want.
And Logan, breathing hard, jaw tight with need, whispered back against her lips.
"Tell me to stop, Jean… tell me now if you want me to…"
But Jean only shook her head, her voice a bare whisper. "Don't stop."
They stumbled back, lips locked, until the edge of the couch met the back of Jean's knees. Logan pulled away just enough to see her face… searching, making sure, silently asking again if she is liking this.
