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He growls in response, his hand wandering down to my ass. He adds a demanding squeeze, evoking a craving moan from me.
“Say that again,” he whispers into my ear. “What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me,” I answer in a breathless whisper. “I want to feel you.”
“Good girl.”
The praise has barely left his lips when his hands turn to the front, finding the zipper of my jeans and pulling it down with one swift motion before he pulls them down to the floor, together with my panties. I step out of them, but when I make a move to unbutton his shirt, he slaps my hand away.
“Not yet,” he says when I cast him a disappointed look. “I want to see you first.”
I want to protest, but he preempts me by hooking his fingers below the hem of my top, pulling it up over my head just as quickly as he removed the pants. He doesn’t waste much time on my bra either, unhooking the clasp as soon as my top joinsmy pants on the floor.
“So fucking perfect,” he assesses.
I don’t stand a chance of feeling ashamed, because he numbs any intrusive thoughts by leaning down to suck on my hardened nipples. He’s not gentle, but kneads my breasts with force while he adds teeth to his suckling, sending short-lived sparks of pain through my body.
I throw my head back, releasing a deep groan at his sweet-tasting violence. He continues to the other side, pinching my wet nipple between two fingers while he begins to torture the other with his teeth. The moan I let out now is laced with agony—sweet as sugar agony. I’m standing on my toes, my hands digging into his muscular shoulders while he goes on to tease me in a way that makes my core burn with yearning.
I’m breathing heavily, my eyes rolled back into my head and my lips parted when he stops to scoop me up in his arms. I’m too dizzy with lust to comprehend what’s happening before we’re outin the hallway, his massive erection caressing my naked butt through its denim prisonashe walks toward the living room.
“Where are we going?” I want to know, tightening my grip around his neck, worried that I may be heavy in his arms, even though he carries me with ease, as if I weighed nothing.
“My bedroom,” he simply says, as if it was the most natural thing. And I guess it would be, in any other scenario, any other relationship—a real relationship.
That’s not us, though. I have never been allowed in his bedroom and even found the door locked on a few occasions when I was home by myself and tried to explore. I only meandered into the second hallway once, never returning after I realized that most of the doors were locked anyway, and he probably locked them for a reason.
The door is wide open now, and he carries me inside a room that looks very different from my bedroom, with the same color scheme as the living area, dark wooden floors, steely grey colors atop of white walls and airy curtains. The bed is a king size, with silk sheets in dark grey, pushed against the wall close to the floor-length windows on the right.
He lowers me down onto the sheets, and I sit up on my knees, throwing him a quick look to ask for approval. He’s smiling when he suggests a nod, allowing me to do what I’ve wanted to do for so long, especially since our evening at the spa.
I unbutton his shirt, relishing every inch as I reveal his chiseled physique underneath. My fingers journey across his defined chest, following the outline of his numerous tattoos before I slide down the shirt over his shoulders.
Planting kisses on his tan chest, I wander down to his crotch, not hesitating when I reach the buttons of his jeans and pulling them apart quickly, drivenwild by myneed for him. His erections springs free before my face, a single drip of precum pearling at the tip when I bend forward to wrap my lips around his length.
He groans and thrusts his hips forward, shoving his length into my mouth until it’s pressed against the back of my throat. I choke on his considerable size, but refuse to let go just yet, forcing myself to pass a few seconds without taking a breath, before I release myself, coughing and gasping for air while my fingers remain snaked around his cock.
His hand is at the back of myhead, guiding me back onto his length, my tongue gracing the lower side of his shaft as I take him all in again. I keep him in a tight grip with my hand while I circle around his tip, applying extra pressure against the most sensitive area where precum continues to sweeten his taste. His growls grow louder and more demanding, as his fist closes around a tuft of hair at the back of my head.
“Enough,” he decides, pushing me away from him, so I land with my back on the mattress.
“Spread your legs,” he commands, stroking himself as he looks down on me.
I do as I’m told, quivering with longing as I position myself in front of him, my legs parted and my eyes locked on to his.
He’s smiling when he climbs on top of me, bringing his tip between my wet folds, where he remains for a moment, before he thrusts forward. I welcome him with a profound groan, a blend of pleasure and pain as he spreads me apart with his massive size.
He’s the biggest I’ve ever had, by far, and I never knew that sex could be this painful and heavenly at the same time. He begins to move his hips, drilling into me with ferocious strength, just like I need him to. After the day I’ve had, I want to feel nothing but this, him, as close to me as humanly possible, and my mind dazed with unbridled joy and mind-numbing ecstasy.
There’s only him and me, his body hovering above mine as he drives into me with feral force. He brings his face closer to mine, his lips almost touching mine, as he supports himself on his elbows and takes my face between his hands. Our eyes meet and I lose myself in the depth of his dazed gaze. His lips curve a little, suggesting a smile, before he leans down to kiss me. He never stops moving, never wavers in his rhythm as he continues to stretch my core.
He’s tearing me apart, spreading me like no man ever has before, his tan skin stretching across his defined muscles as he straightens himself up and holds me by the hips. His hands dig into my sides when he toughens his grip, and I arch my back in response, tilting the angle so that each of his violent shoves sends an intense spark of delight through my core.
This is not just lust, is it? How could lust feel this way, this intense, this overwhelmingly blissful? My mind dances to the deepest corners of my consciousness, trying to find a dark spot, a blemish that would serve as a warning—but I find nothing.
This man. He is more than I ever dared to dream of, more than I ever thought I deserved. He’s too good for me, too perfect, too…
Logan groans in ecstasy and his thrusts slow down a bit, never losing their vigor as he sets into a gradual pace. He’s about to come, I can tell. I can see it written on his face, mirroring my emotions, as I’m overrun by a sense of elation.
