AN: Sorry about how I ended the last one, guys; but really, I wouldn't be me if I didn't give you a good cliffhanger. So onto this chapter...If by some chance, you haven't figured it out yet-this chapter is rated M for lots of smutty goodness. It has definite adult content and sexual situations. It is absolutely NSFW. I would also avoid reading on the subway, or in a Starbucks, or you know, anywhere public.

I hope you enjoy it.

The elevator ride to the 31st floor was silent. Their hands were linked, fingers woven together, but there were plenty of inches between them otherwise. The doors finally slid open after what felt like an eternity, and they stepped into the hall.

"This way," Logan stated, nodding his head to the right. They walked slowly down the corridor to the end. Logan stopped in front of a set of double doors. Their suite.

He turned to face her, making no move to open the door. He reached up, cupping her face and gently stroking his thumb over her cheek. He felt strange again—a tension. An almost overwhelming feeling he couldn't quite place. He felt like he should say something.

No words came. Just a kiss. Slow and languid.

He pulled the key card out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

They walked into the room. Windows stretched along the entire wall across from them, though the blinds were drawn. There was an electric fireplace and a large screen TV on one side of the room, and a bar area on the other. To their left was a door leading, presumably, to the bedroom.

Rory strode across the room to the windows, pressing a button to open the curtains. Logan came up behind her, circling his arms around her waist, and resting his chin on her shoulder. They stared out the windows together. "It's beautiful," she said. They were looking out over the Thames River. The sky above was clear and littered with stars.

"I asked for a view."

They stood like this for a few minutes. It was incredibly comfortable and incredibly awkward at the same time. Rory was filled with anticipation and excitement, and yet, part of her was perfectly content to stay in that exact moment forever. That moment right before everything changed.

"You want a glass of champagne?" Logan asked. She was nervous, he could tell. He was too. It was ridiculous; it's not like it was his first time. And he'd wanted this for so long. What did he have to be nervous about?

Rory nodded her head and Logan unwrapped his arms from her and headed across the room to where an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne was waiting.

Rory followed, hoping a little liquid courage would help her relax. Her shoes weren't helping either. It was hard to relax when her toes were being pinched together. She slipped the pumps off and placed them neatly next to the sofa.

Logan poured two glasses of champagne, handing one to Rory and taking a large dreg from the other.

Rory sipped hers slowly. It was sweet, and tart, and the bubbles tingled pleasantly. They stood there silently for a few more minutes as Rory continued to nurse her drink. They were feet apart; not touching, not speaking.

Rory didn't know what to do. At the ballet he couldn't keep his hands off her and now that they were alone he would barely look at her. Was he having second thoughts? Or maybe he was waiting for her to do something? Some indication that she was ready?

"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted, breaking the silence in the room. She needed a second to breath. She grabbed the bag the bellhop had placed on the luggage rack by the door to the bedroom and disappeared into the restroom.

Once she was alone, she took a deep breath, appraising herself in the mirror. Her hair had started to go limp and her lipstick was completely worn off. She opened her bag and pulled out her toiletry kit from within. She flipped her head over, fluffing up her hair and spritzing it with a bit of hairspray, before righting herself and gently patting her locks into place. She reapplied her lipstick. She took another glance in the mirror, feeling slightly more confident in her appearance. But another glance at her bag had her questioning things all over again. She fingered the material sitting on top. Steph had managed to talk her into buying a slip. Baby blue satin, with a touch of lace along the plunging neckline and decorating the hem which fell just past the swell of her bottom. It was modest, but sexy. She should put it on.

She closed her eyes and pictured Logan. His lips on hers, his hands all over her. He reached behind her back, slowly undoing the zipper of her dress. That's what she wanted. Not some big seduction scene. She didn't want to pretend to be someone she wasn't.

With her mind made up, she closed her bag, setting it off to the side. She squeezed her eyes shut and took another deep breath for courage, then opened the bathroom door and walked back into the living room.

Logan turned at the sound of her reentry. He'd removed his sports jacket while she was gone. Laid it neatly over the back of one of the chairs.

"Hey," he greeted, not moving from his spot. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Why he didn't have her naked already. What was he waiting for?

She took a couple steps closer. "I'm ready," she said quietly.

He swallowed nervously. "You're sure?" he asked, forcing his feet to start moving towards her. She nodded shyly.

He was in front of her now. He reached out, his hand caressing her arm. He took another step, pressing their bodies together, resting his forehead on hers. His hand came up to brush her cheek, and then he was kissing her.

Whatever the strange, paralyzing sensation he'd been experiencing, it was washed away by the feel of her lips on his. He wound his arm around her waist, pulling her body into him. She arched her back, her hands circling his neck, winding up into his hair to grasp at the tendrils. "Logan," she breathed out.

He took a step back, holding her hand and leading her into the bedroom.

The bed was huge, and it was covered in rose petals. Rory smiled at the sweet gesture.

"One second," Logan said, letting go of her hand to walk over to his suitcase by the door. He retrieved his MP3 player and a portable speaker, and something else—a box of condoms.

"Someone's feeling optimistic," Rory commented on the size of the box, trying to lighten the mood.

Logan smirked. "Just want to be prepared is all." This was good. The air still felt tight with tension, but the banter helped. He walked over to the night stand and hooked up the music player, pressing a few buttons. The gentle patter of rain filled the air; the distant rumble of thunder. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice more serious now. She had seemed okay throughout the storm the other week, but he worried the sound of the thunder might still make her uncomfortable.

Rory nodded her head. "It's perfect," she told him. Thunderstorms had nothing but positive connotations for her now.

"Good," he strolled back over to her. He placed one hand on her shoulder, the other resting gently on her hip. "I want this to be good for you," he told her.

"Me too," she replied, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment. "I mean, for you," she corrected quickly. "Not that I don't want it to be good for me too. I want it to be good for both of us…"

Logan smiled at her ramble, but he knew he couldn't let it continue. If she really got going she could talk herself in circles. He silenced her with a kiss. Her body responded enthusiastically.

Logan separated his lips from her again, leaving his forehead pressed against hers. "If you need me to slow down…or stop," he added, the last word not coming easily. He didn't know how he'd ever be able to stop once he started, but if she needed him to, he'd find a way. "Just say the word."

Rory felt a wave of calm pass over her at his words. This was Logan; he'd take care of her. She trusted him. She tilted her head slightly to kiss his neck and he moaned appreciatively. "What word?" she asked, feeling emboldened by her realization. She was fingering the buttons on his shirt now, running her fingers down his chest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find his focus. "Stop," he replied, his voice a whisper.

She pulled her hands away teasingly. It wasn't what he meant and she knew it, but the loss of contact did help. "I'm serious," he told her. "I won't be mad."

Rory seemed to ponder this for a second. "I don't like 'stop'," she said. "We should come up with something better."

"Well… 'no' would work too," he answered, slightly befuddled.

"No," she shook her head. "I mean, like how some couples have special words they use to let the other one know when they've…reached a red line."

"You mean like…a safe word?" he asked. "Just what kind of kinky stuff do you think I have in store for you here, Ace?"

"I don't know," she smiled flirtatiously. "You tell me."

"Nothing that requires a safe word," he assured her. His head cocked to the side thoughtfully. "At least not yet. That's way advanced."

"I'm a quick learner," she reminded him.

He groaned at that. "Fine, what's your safe word?"

Rory thought for a moment. "How about…pineapple."

"You got something against pineapples?" He raised his eyebrows.

"No," she shrugged. "I just figure it won't really come up naturally during…you know. I mean, I hope not. They're all spiney and stuff. That's got to be painful."

Logan laughed. "Okay, 'pineapple' it is. You say the word 'pineapple', and I promise to stop whatever I'm doing."

"And what about you?" she asked, bringing her hand up to his chest again. Her finger caressing the skin above his open collar.

"Me?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, what's your safe word?"

"The word I'll use if I want you to stop doing sexy things to me?" he asked for clarification. Rory nodded. "That's never going to happen, Ace," he assured her.

"You never know," she prodded. "We haven't seen what I'm into yet. I could be very naughty."

He groaned again, the strain in his pants growing. "I'll take my chances."

"No fun," she pouted. "You have to pick."

He couldn't deny the pout. "Fine," he capitulated. "…Leprechaun."

"Leprechaun?" She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Yes, because they're about as realistic as the idea that I would ever want you to stop having sex with me."

"Fine," she shrugged, "I accept your safe word."

"Gee, thanks." He rolled his eyes. They were both quiet for a moment as the mood in the room shifted once more, the playful banter giving way back to sexual tension. Logan's hand caressed up her side and back down again. "Turn around," he instructed softly.

She did as she was told. Logan gently brushed her hair to one side, exposing the zipper of her dress. He reached for it, drawing it down, agonizingly slow. Once he'd reached the bottom, he brought his hands back up, pushing the fabric off her shoulders and down her arms. The dress fell to the floor.

Rory started to turn back around again, but he stopped her, taking a moment to appreciate the gorgeous expanse of alabaster skin that had been revealed. His fingertips reached out to caress her bare back. He let them trail from the lace band of her bra, down over the small of her back to the waistband of her matching panties. She was in a thong. Her ass, in all its perfect glory, was exposed to him. He grabbed it, squeezing, and she inhaled sharply at the sensation.

He guided her around to face him, taking in the front view. "You are so gorgeous," he told her.

She reached out to start working on the buttons of his shirt. "Your turn," she told him. He let the feel of her fingers, dancing over his chest, wash over him. She reached his waist and started tugging the material of his shirt loose from his pants. Once free, she pushed it from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with her dress. Her finger traced over the center of his chest, down over the outline of his well-defined abdominal muscles.

"You're not totally hideous to look at yourself," she informed him.

"Umm, thanks," he laughed.

She leaned in to place an open-mouthed kiss on his chest. Her tongue was warm and wet on his skin and he inhaled sharply. She placed another, and another. Her hands fumbled with his belt, occasionally brushing over his hardness in a delightful way. He groaned at the contact. When she'd finally undone the clasp, she pulled the belt from his waist, discarding it with their other clothing.

"Lay down," he told her, nodding his head towards the bed. She sat at the foot of the bed, scooting herself backwards until she felt the pillows behind her. She relaxed into them.

Logan toed off his shoes, then undid his pants, pushing them off and removing his socks, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs.

He climbed onto the bed, until he was hovering over her. He looked down at her, auburn hair splayed out on the pillow, blue eyes heady with lust, and that feeling came over him again; the one he'd had downstairs in the lobby, and again outside the suite. Sort of nervous, but light at the same time. Like he didn't know if he wanted to freeze time or run away. He did neither, leaning in for a kiss instead. He trailed his lips over her chin, down her neck and collar bone.

One of his hands came up to cup her breast, squeezing gently. She let out a tiny moan, arching up into his grasp. His thumb rolled gently over her nipple, the outline of which was visible through the flimsy lace of her bra. Her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick her lips. He brought his mouth down to cover her other breast through her bra and sucked. Her body arched again, and he used his free hand to reach beneath her and undo the clasp.

He sat back as he peeled the fabric from her, revealing her mounds; puckered nipples, rosy pink areolas. He massaged them gently, before lowering himself down again to kiss them. He took her back in his mouth, letting his tongue roam over her nipple.

A shot of pleasure went through her; not only where his mouth was pleasuring her, but between her legs as well. She pulled one leg up alongside him, thrusting her hips up to rub her center against his leg. A tiny, involuntary grunt left her mouth.

"You like that?" he asked knowingly, not bothering to remove his mouth from her breast. The vibration of his words, the movement of his tongue, was heaven.

"Yes," she managed to speak.

He continued his assault on her breasts, and the pressure between her legs continued to grow. She needed some relief.

"Logan," she breathed out. "I…need…"

"What do you need, Baby?" he prompted.

She couldn't make the words come out. Instead she reached down between her own legs, pressing her fingers against her nub, trying to find some release. Her hips bucked up again.

"Fuck, Ace," he groaned, incredibly turned on. He let his hand trail down to cover hers, guiding her along her slit. She was so wet.

He moved his mouth away from her breasts, trailing his kisses lower along her rib cage, as their fingers continued their ministrations beneath the fabric of her panties.

"More," Rory groaned. The moisture left behind by his mouth mingled with the slight draft in the room, causing her nipples to harden further at the chill. She removed her hands from between her legs and brought it up to thread through his hair, trying to guide his head back up.

He made a slight tsking noise. "Oh, but there are so many more things for you to enjoy," he promised her. "We'll get back to that one later." He continued to kiss and lick her stomach. He moved his hand from between her legs, so that he could steady her hips. His tongue danced merrily around her bellybutton for a short time, before diving in. She tried to buck her hips again, but he had them firmly pressed into the bed.

Logan curled his fingers around the last scrap of fabric that remained on her. He drew the panties down her legs slowly, almost tauntingly.

"Logan," she breathed out pleadingly.

He finished peeling her panties off her, and he was kneeling near the foot of the bed, looking up at all of her. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There, at her feet, he suddenly remembered her request from the beginning of the date. Flippant though her words had been, he decided to give her what she'd asked for. He lightly trailed a finger up the sole of her foot. She wriggled at the tickling sensation, her foot naturally drawing up and away.

This new position had her entire pussy exposed to his view. He groaned painfully, trying to control himself. He took her other foot in his hand, applying more pressure, massaging firmly.

"Logan," this time the word came out as a slight whine as she tried to tug her foot away from him.

"What's the matter?" he asked teasingly. "I thought you wanted a foot massage."

"Not now," she cried out. Both her legs were steepled now, her knees falling out to the side. He sat up, placing a hand on the inside of each of her thighs. They travelled higher and higher, pushing her legs apart. He reached her center, brushing his thumb against her clit.

Rory looked down at him, feeling suddenly shy for the first time since he had undressed her. She knew what he was about to do. She squirmed slightly in embarrassment, but before she even had the chance to remember the word 'pineapple' his tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping along her folds. Her entire body convulsed with pleasure, and all thoughts of resisting fled from her mind.

He used his fingers to spread her lips as his tongue probed deeper. He could feel her muscles clenching as she squirmed under his ministrations.

"Fuck!" The expletive left her mouth unexpectedly. And holly shit was it hot. His Ace wasn't a curser; that dirty word was just for him.

She was getting close. So very close. He pinched her clit, rolling the nub between his fingers, plunging his tongue deeper and deeper. The taste of her was intoxicating.

Rory felt the pressure building, building, and then, suddenly—release. Her muscles contracted, clenching in ecstasy. Her whole body shuddered, lifting off the bed. Waves of pleasure coursed through her. As the waves lessened, she realized she couldn't feel Logan between her legs anymore. She opened her eyes to see him standing at the foot of the bed, pushing his boxer briefs off. His penis sprung free and her eyes went wide at the site.

He climbed back onto the bed, hovering over her as he reached for the box on the nightstand and pulled out a foil package. He ripped it open with his teeth.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he informed her, his brown eyes locked on her blue. Her breath hitched nervously, but she nodded her assent.

He quickly donned the condom, then brought his hand down between her legs to part her. She was soaking wet, and her muscles were lax from the orgasm she was just coming off of. He hoped it would lessen the pain.

With a thrust, he was inside her. She cried out at the sharp twinge she felt inside.

Logan stilled, torn between concern for her and his own intense pleasure. She was so amazingly tight and warm, and wet. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She took a deep breath; in, then out. "Yes," she assured him. She adjusted her position, her hips shifting slightly with a grunt, her legs falling open wider to try to make more room for him inside her.

"Did I hurt you?" He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to go crazy with the feel of her surrounding him.

"Just for a second," she said. "It's better now." She still felt a dull throbbing, but the sharp pain was gone.

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "Just…go slow."

He obeyed, pulling out slowly, before thrusting back into her. She grunted in discomfort—less than before but still there. She nodded him on. He drove into her again, and this time she felt the ache subside as her muscles stretched to accommodate him. After a few more slow thrusts, she began lifting her hips to meet his.

"Faster," she told him. She felt pleasantly full now. The pain was gone.

He shifted his weight slightly, supporting himself on one forearm, while his other arm reached down to her thigh for leverage, drawing her leg up around him. "Is that okay?" he asked, pulling out and pushing into her again. Her face contorted in pleasure.

"Fuck yes." There was that word again. The word that let him know she was coming completely unwound, her inhibitions gone.

He leaned down to kiss her as he thrust again, slowly picking up the pace.

He tangled his fingers with hers, lifting her arm up above her head, causing her back to arch and her breast to push upward. He trailed his hand back down her arm, caressing her mound. He bent his head down, taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking.

He felt her clench her muscles around him. This time it was him who cursed. As though she wasn't tight enough already.

He didn't know how much longer he could last. He reached down between her legs to add some external stimulation, hoping to bring her to the edge before he completely lost control.

Her one leg was wrapped around him still, the other entwined itself around his as he thrust faster and faster.

She felt the pressure building inside of her again. Pleasure, wanting, needing. She bucked uncontrollably. "Harder," she pleaded.

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold out just a little longer. She was panting, a droplet of sweat rolling down her chest. He had her close.

One, two, three more thrusts and he felt her start to spasm. "Aaaaahhhhh" she cried out. He let go, the last of his restraint gone and he let himself finish, spilling out as she convulsed around him.

She saw stars, bursting beneath her clenched eyelids. Nothing else mattered, as she felt herself shatter, but the pleasure bursting from every cell in her body.

The bliss subsided slightly, and she could feel Logan on top of her, the weight of him pleasant. He was still inside of her. She felt full; sated.

He started to shift himself off her, but she tightened her legs around his. "Not yet," she requested.

"I'm going to smush you," he argued. He was unable to hold himself up, his muscles too spent. His entire weight was resting on top of her.

"No, you feel good."

He stayed for a moment, trying to find the energy to support at least a little of his weight. He leaned down for a kiss.

"I have to get off now," he insisted.

"I thought you just did that," she joked.

Logan chuckled, rolling off of her. "I definitely, definitely did," he agreed. He reached down to remove the condom, tying it in a knot and discarding it in the trashcan next to the bed.

He flopped back down on the bed, completely exhausted. Rory rolled onto her side, snuggling into him. She tangled her leg over his and rested her head on his shoulder. Logan wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her arm soothingly. "Of course, if I'm not mistaken, you got off twice."

"Why Mr. Huntzberger," she scolded playfully. "Are you fishing for a complement?"

"Never."

Their banter faded away to comfortable silence as they lay, entwined together, somehow finding their way under the covers. Rory traced lazy circles on his chest with her index finger. Her eyelids drooped, heavy from exhaustion, but she kept them open, not wanting to fall asleep just yet.

Logan held her close, continuing to caress her arm. She fit perfectly into his side. He wanted to hold her like this forever. And yet, there was that nagging feeling again. The one that had been plaguing him all night. Happy…and scared, at the same time.

Rory turned her head, to place a sleepy kiss on his chest. Her fingers continued their languorous dance over his torso…over his heart. And suddenly, he knew what the feeling was.

"I love you."

Rory bolted upright, her eyes wide. "You what!?"

AN: Uh oh...ANOTHER cliff-hanger. I'm mean. But like I said earlier-I wouldn't be me otherwise. I hope you found this chapter...satisfying ;) This was a big one, so I'd really appreciate knowing what you thought about it.