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I got what he was saying. I mean, I wasn’t oblivious to sex. I knew “play” could mean a few things, and it made me nervous and excited at the same time.
He let go of my wrists, and I put my hands on his abdomen and lifted his shirt inch by inch. Logan hovered over me, watching my eyes. I saw him suck in air and close his eyes for a second when my hands crept up his chest then slowly caressed his nipples.
I kept my eyes on him, loving his reaction. Loving how my touch was driving him crazy. My fingertips traced every muscle on his chest then down to his abdomen. Every contour was a new mountain for me to explore. I was panting, and Logan had his eyes closed and was breathing harder than I was.
“Shirt, Logan.” I lifted it upward, and he succumbed to my bribe and threw off his shirt. My hands went to the button on his jeans, and he grabbed my hands and stilled them.
“No. I let you play so you could relax. Now it’s me.” Within seconds he had my shirt up, over my head, and his fingers were working at my bra. The snaps gave, and my breasts fell from their confines into his hands. “Emily.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He lowered his body, and then his tongue circled my nipple while his hands caressed my side, down to my hip then back up again to tease my breasts. My body was exploding with sensations, pain as he bit my nipple, then pleasure as he suckled sweetly and licked the sensitive skin with heated moisture.
I gripped his hair, eyes closed and body arching into him as he sent me into a furnace of heat. Getting myself off to him couldn’t even begin to compete with the real thing.
He moved lower, soft kisses trailing down my chest to my stomach. “This. And this.” He slid his hand to my hip. “I love everything about your body.” His kisses went further, and my body was already anticipating him. Ache was no longer a word associated with what he was doing to me; it was much, much more than that.
My hands curled in the grass, and I moaned as his fingers undid my jeans.
The button popped.
The slow descend of my zipper drove me crazy.
The sound was agonizing, because I wanted him to rip them off and plunge deep inside of me, hard and fast. But Logan wanted to do this slowly. Relish every moment, and yet, I was dying for him.
“Logan.” My whispered moan was met with a muffled, “Christ” as I felt his fingers reach in my jeans and go lower. And lower until—
I stiffened, sucking in air.
“You’re wet.”
Well, yeah, I’d been wet for two-and-half months. Logan turned me on just by looking at me. I ran my hands through his sexy bedroom hair. “I’ve been wet since the day I met you, Logan.”
His head came up, and his eyes widened. God, he had to have known how much I wanted him.
“Jesus, Emily.” He kissed me again, hands curled into my hair, and his mouth hard against mine. There was no breathing, no thinking, just pure hunger.
He raised his head, both of us breathing hard, his hair falling in front of his right eye while he looked at me with haunted openness. “I’m not letting you go.”
I cupped his cheek with my shaking hand, my thumb stroking across his stubble. “Don’t ever hurt me.”
“Never.” He sat up then moved down me as he grabbed the edges of my jeans and pulled. I lifted my butt, and my panties came with the denim.
He stopped at mid-thigh. “Beautiful. And shaved. That is a . . . surprise.”
I did have a small, what they call, landing strip, but the rest was waxed clean—Brazilian. I’d never liked hair down there, and Logan liking it—it made me giddy inside.
His fingertip ran down the small patch of hair, and I gasped as he spread the folds then slipped into the wetness.
“Logan, oh God,” I arched my back, trying to bend my knees but unable to because of my jeans trapping my legs. “Jeans, Logan. Jeans.”
“Wait.” He continued to enjoy caressing my clit until I screamed and panted, then when he felt me close to the edge, he backed off and went further down to circle my opening.
I wanted him inside me so bad that I was arching up to meet him until he put his hand on my stomach and forced me to stay down.
He put two fingers on either side of my folds, slid through the wetness then hesitated at my opening.
“Logan. Please.”
“Beg me.”
“Logan.”
“Emily.”
“Please, Logan. I’m begging you.”
He plunged two fingers inside, and I inhaled sharply at the sudden assault. It grabbed me. Held me. It didn’t let go.
He pulled out, and I cried out with disappointment only to be met with a quick kiss on the top of my clit. Then he tore my jeans off the rest of the way and lay between my legs.
“Bend your knees.”
I did.
“Open. Wide.”
I did that too. I trusted him implicitly and him taking control felt like it was fulfilling a need in me to surrendered to him. I was able to forget everything and bask in whatever pleasure he gave me.
He gently pushed them a little wider still, and I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I felt the first suckle on my clit. Oh God. The sensations inside me were so heightened that I knew I wasn’t going to last more than a few minutes with Logan’s mouth on me. Never had I imagined it being like this. I moaned, arching my back as Logan’s tongue slipped inside me.
Gripping the grass on either side of my head I groaned as he worked magic with his tongue through the folds, tasting the wetness then suckling my clit again. The pressure in my abdomen ached, built, and was cresting. I tensed. So, so close to the edge, nearly pushed off the hill.
He stopped. “Not yet, baby.”
