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When she wrapped around it and tentatively took it in her hand, she lifted her eyes once more for approval.
Logan nodded and undid a few of his buttons, then reached behind and tore off his shirt.
Mother of mercy, the layers of muscle. The man was ripped as hell.
“Fuck me with your hot mouth, Emma,” Logan instructed. “Take me deep, but I want my come on your lips and tits when I release.”
Jesus.Her thighs clenched, wanting to be touched, but clearly, Logan wanted her to wait, despite her breasts being exposed and the air kissing the sensitive peaks.
Emma moaned, working his silky cock around her tongue and with her hand, and he widened his stance, sliding his hand into her hair and gripping it with just enough force it felt good.
Painful pleasure.
So far, Logan was turning out to be the most dominant lover she’d ever had, and while it was thrilling, it was also a little terrifying.
Her pussy was so wet and throbbing, she was dying for him to touch her.
Anywhere.
Tomorrow was going to be hell, Emma realized—she anticipated a long night of pleasure ahead.
Her head bobbed, and she sucked, working him as he thickened. Logan encouraged her with his words and moans until he tugged harder on her hair, lifting her off him.
“That’s it, shit. Stroke me.”
His hand covered hers and guided her to go faster as his white-hot semen released.
“Mouth open,” Logan rasped, covering her lips and bare breasts with his come. “Fuck.”
Logan threw his head back, then appeared to force his eyes open so he could take in the masterpiece he’d made of her.
He pulled her to her feet and unzipped her dress, letting it drop to the floor. While she was slipping it off, Logan removed his pants, planting a hand on her hip when she began to remove her black heels.
“Leave them.”
“Yes, sir.” Emma nodded, and he guided her to the coffee table, where he tugged her panties off and sat on the sofa in front of her. With his hands, he spread her legs wide and licked his lips.
Emma’s body shook with excitement, her core hot and needy.
She was dying to demand he touch her but knew better. He’d punish her.
With more waiting.
“There’s nothing more fucking beautiful than a glistening wet pussy,” Logan said, sliding his fingers along the edge of her panty line.
Touch me, damn it.
Not on her thigh, not her hips, not along her pubic bone. She needed his fingers on her clit.
But Emma knew better than to poke the bear.
A dominant man could not be told what to do.
“Tell me what you like.” Logan rubbed his thumb along the inside of her thighs.
For the love of...Move to the left.
“Fingers, tongue. Whatever,” she replied, wriggling and arching.
