Thirty-Three
“Morning,” Logan greets as I carefully plop myself down at the kitchen table.
His back faces me with his lean muscles and tattoos in all their glory.
My body is sore. Logan made me sore. By his tongue. By his hand. By his tongue again. My body sparks just thinking about it. All night of endless orgasms.
He wouldn’t let me touch him, not in the way I wanted or craved. He wantedmeto feel good. Fucking Logan.
After, we watched TV like no big deal. Like we’re a couple, and I wasn’t on the run, married. Like he didn’t just finger fuck me into the next universe, no… everything was… normal.
I smile. “Is that bacon with grease that will one day clog my arteries?”
“Mhm.”
“Good because I’m starving.”
Logan walks over, setting down a plate of deliciousness in front of me. He looks even better this morning. Still no shirt (rolling my eyes) and his sweatpants hang low on his hips, showing off that perfect v shape.
“Keep looking at me like that and we’re about to have a repeat of last night.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” I grin.
“Fuck it. Breakfast can wait. Up.”
I obey. My gaze never falters.
He prowls forward, snatching me up into his chest by wrapping an arm around my waist. He walks us back into thecold wall, and I shiver. The nightgown I wear is practically see through.
Logan spins me around, carefully pressing my cheek against the kitchen wall. His breath strokes my ear, and it runs through me like ice and fire. “I’m going to finger fuck you on this wall, Sora.”
Yes.Who knew quiet Logan had such a dirty mouth.
My nightgown bunches into his fists and he shoves it up above my waist. “No panties,” Logan hisses and nips at my neck, then grabs my ass with a squeeze.
His fingertips trail from my belly button down between my thighs to my throbbing, aching wetness. Two fingers slide over my soaked pussy, stroking me. Rubbing me. My eyes flutter close and then he plunges his fingers inside with perfect precision.
I slam my palms on the wall while I arch back into his stone erection. “Yes!” My ass works, humping his hand like it’s his cock slamming in and out of me.
His arm snakes around my stomach, keeping me tightly flush to him, his hand laying directly under my breast while the other is still busy fingering my wet pussy.
“I’m going to come, Logan!” I scream, my head falling back into the safety of his chest.
With every fast pant, I try to catch my breath, but he never lets go. His arms hold me tight.
“I can get used to hearing you scream like that.”
“And I can get used to you making me scream.”
I keep my palms pressed against the icy wall; my nightgown remains on my hips. Logan’s hard length against me. I’m not complaining.
“I don’t want to let you go, Sora.”
“I don’t ever want you to let me go.” Not now. Not ever.
He takes what I say seriously because we stay like that for another three minutes. But then the warmth, the safety, is gone. It’s cold again without Logan’s touch.
“Let me take care of you,” I practically beg. If he won’t let us have sex, then it’s the least I can do. Not to mention, I want to see him.Feelhim. Feel him under my palms, on my tongue.
