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“—off,” I gasp, pulling my lips from his so I’m able to breathe.
Logan chuckles. And it’s as dark as his eyes as he stares at me, twisting his wrist until he’s stroking my G-spot arrogantly, confident in his ability to make me unravel.
I drop my hand to grip his wrist, keeping him in the perfect spot. The tendons in his forearm flex as he finger-fucks me with the precision of someone who knows my body like he’s studied it daily.
“Try lying again and telling me you don’t like this.” His eyes roam over my face and come to rest on my parted lips. “Your cream’s filling my palm,” he sneers.
I tighten my hold on his wrist, unable to reply as his movements draw more wetness from me.
“I—”
He pulls his fingers back.
My body sags forward at the loss, and I lift my eyes to his.
He licks his lips, then sucks his fingers. His breath catches as he cleans my arousal off them, making a wet sound as he pops them free.
“You know what you taste like, Mads?”
“Pretty sure you’re about to tell me,” I snipe.
“You taste like you enjoy being fingered by the guy you insist is an asshole—warm and sweet. I bet your pussy will be throwing orgasms at him like fucking confetti, given the chance.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
His eyes narrow at the corners, and he drops a hand to the zipper of his pants like he’s still considering his next move.
I glance down. The dark fabric is straining against the bulge of his erection.
I look back into his eyes in challenge, holding my breath.
He swallows, unblinking as he returns my stare.
Then the sound of his zipper being slowly dragged down slices through the air.
My clit throbs painfully and all sane thoughts evaporate, fueled by lust.
I push his hand away and grab his zipper, yanking it all the way down. His pupils blow wide and then he starts moving, helping me to rid him of his tuxedo’s cummerbund. I tear his shirt from his pants and together we force his pants and underwear out of the way.
He grabs my thighs, wrapping them around his hips as he lifts me on top of the sideboard.
Then he sinks his cock inside me.
I feel every thick inch as he pushes inside me, stretching me to take him. His eyes don’t lose mine for a second. I have every opportunity to stop him. Enough time to say no.
But my choice was made before he even kissed me.
I’ve hated Logan Rich for years. And in a sick, twisted way, this is exactly what I need. So instead, I stare into his eyes, silent except for my hitched breath passing through my lips as he melds our bodies into one.
He curses as he pushes the final inch inside me until his balls meet my skin. My body throbs.
“This what you wanted?” he grits, his palms spread over my hips. “To be stuffed full of my cock.”
“Don’t kid yourself.” I gather my breath as I get used to his size. He’s bigger than anyone else I’ve ever known. “I’ve felt better.”
“Really?” His fingers dig into my hips, and he holds himself still like he’s fighting to maintain control.
“Really.”
