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His mouth finds my ear, giving it a nip, before he works his way down my neck, teasing the spot he knows I can’t resist back and forth with his tongue. Our height difference makes it impossible for me to move against him like I want. I grind on his leg as he captures my tongue with his own, rubbing his thumb back and forth over a hardened nipple.
“Inside?” I plead.
At my request, we land fully clothed on my bed. I pull at the hem of the shirt Logan’s wearing, feeling his heat against my hands as I drag the shirt up his torso and over his head. It’s not my first sight of his naked upper body, but it’s as thrilling now as it’s ever been. I grab the bottom of my shirt, but Logan moves my hands out the way.
“Can I?”
I smile against his mouth, urging him on, and tasting him until we must separate for him to pull my shirt off. His eyes roam my body, observing every freckle, line, and blemish like they’re art to be admired. I’ve had a few firsts, but none of them ever worshiped me the way his eyes do right now. He nudges me, moving my back to meet the bed, and hovers over me.
I’m ready for him to rip my bra off or pull my pants down and touch me. But he’s enjoying himself and lowers his body to meet mine, the warmth of our skin melding. I’ll never forget the feel of his chest against my stomach. It’s a heady combination of need and comfort. We lazily kiss, and he traces his finger along the band of my jeans.
“Come on,” I sigh, tipping my head back.
“Patience is a virtue, you know.”
“Spare me the lesson. Give me the starry-eyed sex in your love movies already.”
He pulls his head away from mine and nips at my shoulder. “They’re notlovemovies—they’re romanticcomedies.”
I pull his mouth back to mine, unable to withstand a second I’m not taking in his warm breath. My hands fumble to find the button on his pants, taking several moments to work it loose. He moves away, pulling me to sit up, and brings his hands to my back, working to unclasp and discard the material between our chests. Sliding the straps down my arm, he trails kisses along my collarbone, then the tops of my breasts, then my stomach, before tossing the bra onto the floor. He urges me backward, and I pray for mercy, knowing I’ll combust if he waits any longer to touch me.
He rewards my patience with his tongue, pulling a nipple into his mouth, playing and flicking, never breaking eye contact, watching me gasp at the connection between his mouth and my breast. One hand pinches and rolls my other nipple, the sharp sensation making me moan and spurring me to pull Logan’s head tighter against me, needing his tongue to move firmer against my hardened nipple. He understands my request, firmly flicking and licking, keeping the speed constant.
The feel of his hand wandering across the skin of my body is everything I imagined this moment could be and more. He releases my nipple, returning his mouth to mine. None of the scenarios I played out in my mind involved us kissing through grins, but in the middle of it, I can’t picture anything more fitting.
Laying on top of me again, his left hand glides freely until it meets my jeans. I need him against me, and I raise my hips, demanding him to not waste time taking off my pants. He warned me he would take his time, and he’s surely making good on the promise.
“Please?” I beg.
“Soon,” he says against my cheek. He works the button and zipper loose, dipping a finger between my underwear and skin. If I’d known what was in the works, I’d have chosen sexier underwear, but I don’t think Logan’s complaining either way. He crawls down my body, stopping when his face meets the spot where my unbuttoned jeans begin. His tongue teases me, planting kisses and mimicking his finger to dip between the top of my panties and my skin.
I throb, needing more. “Logan,” I moan.
He looks up, eyes searching for permission, and I nod.
His lack of patience now matches mine. I lift my legs making room for him to pull off my jeans. Making his way back up my body, he drops wet, deliberate kisses, stopping when he reaches the underwear still in place.
“Your turn,” he says, pulling me to a seated position. He kneels next to me, giving me space to work his pants over his hips, before laying back and kicking them off. I play with the waistband of his boxers, relishing the feel of my hand so close to a part of him I’ve longed to touch. He pulls my body to lie against his, with my cheek on his chest. I relax into him, slipping my hand fully into his underwear, sighing when his length touches my bare skin. Logan moans at the contact. It’s the most glorious, holy sound my ears will ever be privileged to hear.
I wrap my hand around him, delighting in the feel of him and that I’m the cause for the pleasure he feels.
“Fuck, Noah.”
“Mmmm,” I hum against his chest.
“C’mere,” he tugs at me to release him and rolls us so my back is on the bed. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”
His shaking hands expertly remove my panties, and I twitch when his middle finger meets my clit for the first time, gently working in small circles, making it an unfair ask for me to remain flat on the bed, as my hips rise to minimize the distance between his hand and me.
“You’re wet,” he groans, working his finger lower until he presses it inside, making me cry out. “Good?”
“Very,” I say, breathlessly.
“Good.”
He has more patience than anyone I’ve ever known. Slowly he slides his finger in and out, bringing the heel of his hand back to my clit, giving me something to grind against as he works his fingers. My insistent movements finally quicken his pace and I fumble to take him back in my hand, needing him to feel just as high as I do. His hand draws me closer to a tipping point as I move the warm length of him up and down.
‘Mmmmmmm,” I moan, pulling back and separating us.
