“I like it when you beg,” he said. “But you don’t get to run the show here. Like I said. I’m not a zip line. I’m not an experience, not a ride for you to get on.” Her cheeks felt hot, and she thought about that fleeting comparison she made earlier to him in a playground. She supposed that she deserved the scolding.
She maybe even liked it a little bit.
“Do you understand?”
“I understand,” she whispered.
Slowly, maddeningly so, he undid the button on her jeans and lowered the zipper, still holding her fast as he managed to push them down her hips, taking them all the way down to the floor. She was left in only her quite unspectacular flesh-colored bra and seamless, no-creep panties that she had chosen for comfort, and certainly not because anyone was going to see them. He did not seem turned off by the practicality of her underwear. Quite the opposite. With that same featherlight touch, he moved his knuckles down the valley between her breasts, and she arched into him, cruelly denied a more intimate touch as he made his way down to her belly button, and lower still, following that centerline all the way down between her thighs, the brush of his knuckles there making her cry out with need.
“You are very impatient,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “I am very impatient.” Maybe if she agreed with him, he would go faster.
“Good girls learn to wait their turn.”
Her hips bucked, searching for firmer contact with his hand. She’d never been so turned on in her life.
Her nipples were hardened to painful points, and she ached between her legs. Felt hollow. Desperate to be filled by him. She would have been happy, more than happy, with hard and fast. Foreplay, in this instance, was definitely overrated. And she didn’t require it. He moved his hand away from her and she whimpered. Then he gripped her chin, holding her face straight and steady as he went in to kiss her again, slowly this time, his tongue sliding meaningfully against hers.
“Please,” she whispered.
“What do you want?”
“You,” she said.
“What do you want?” he repeated.
“You inside of me,” she said, making eye contact with him.
“Good,” he said.
She nearly melted with that affirmation. She wanted him so much. She couldn’t even see straight. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but obey his commands and beg. Since he liked the begging.
“Please,” she said again.
Then suddenly he released his hold on her, hauling her into his arms, the hard, hot press of his body against hers almost more than she could stand.
He kissed her. But more than that, he consumed her. She wrapped herself around him, giving herself over to the full force of her desire. He lifted her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist, and she did, and he walked them both over to the bed, laying her down on it, his body over hers, his eyes intent.
She reached up and pushed her fingers through his hair, gripped his face as she lifted herself up to kiss him. He reached behind her and undid her bra, pulling it off and flinging it onto the floor. He moved his hand to cup her breast, sliding his thumb over her nipple, making her gasp at the firm contact of his skin against hers. Then he lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking deep.
Her hips bucked up off the bed, and he curved his arm around her, holding her up against him as he sucked her deep, biting her gently before releasing her again.
“Logan,” she cried out.
He pushed his hand beneath the waistband of her underwear, moved his fingers between her slick folds, finding her entrance and pushing two fingers into her, pressing his mouth to hers as he mimicked the thrust of his fingers with his tongue.
She was lost. Utterly and completely. At some point, he removed her underwear altogether, though she wasn’t overly conscious of when or how. His mouth was hot and knowing as it moved over her body, as he moved between her legs, licking and sucking her, holding her firm, his broad shoulders forcing her thighs apart as he ate her like a starving man.
She shattered. Utterly and completely. Then he moved away from her, getting rid of the rest of his clothes before joining her on the bed. She only had a moment to enjoy him visually. It wasn’t enough. She would need more. He reached back toward his jeans, and it occurred to her just then, what he was going for.
“I can’t get pregnant,” she said.
“I know,” he said.
She’d wept in his arms about that surgery, so of course he knew.
“Well. You don’t need one. As long as you…”
