Fuck, I’ve never felt like this before.
My head flops back onto the couch as he licks in long, hot lines, from taint to cunt to clit, before swirling around in a frenzy around where my nerves are ready to explode. The noises he’s making, wet, lush and unreserved, add to the insanity of the moment.
I can’t hang on any longer.
“Let go,” he murmurs into me and the vibrations are that extra push over the edge. “Let go for me.”
I arch my back and the world becomes warmer, hotter, tighter, as if I’m made of lava and it’s fighting its way to the surface. The feeling grows and spreads, this impossible force inside me, as primal as any mother nature has created, that gathers every single nerve and piece of my body until its wound over and over again like the tightest string.
The slide of his tongue makes me snap.
“Logan,” I cry out, and he groans into me, vibrating deep inside and kicking me over the edge. I’m going over, falling into a burning ocean and my fingers grab his hair, pulling at him in desperation, trying to hold on even though there’s no use. The orgasm never seems to end and I am pummeled over and over again.
I’m boneless, my muscles quivering as the orgasm still rolls through me, lying here with legs spread. My breath is hard to catch, my thoughts are hard to corral. I’m as high as I’ve ever been and I don’t ever want to come down.
Then Logan is on his knees, and grabbing hold of one thigh and lifting it high, positioning himself. His darkened cock is in his hands, the most lustful look in his eyes. He pushes inside me with ease, his dick even harder than he was before. I’m so wet it feels like fucking heaven, even as my body is still tingling with the last orgasm. He fills me like nothing else.
“I need you again,” his accent muddled with lust. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing you.” He grinds into me, his hips slowly circling, pinning me to the couch as he pistons himself in and out. But unlike earlier, when his thrusts were this relentless, merciless machine, now he’s in control and enjoying every teasing push. “I’ve waited so fucking long to enjoy you from the inside.”
I can’t think about the implications of his words. I can’t think of anything. He’s everything right now, the past, the present, the future. Each slow thrust, each decadent push inside me, time slows and the world stops and it’s just him and it’s just me and it’s the wool over our eyes, making us think it’s always been this way.
His eyes grab hold of mine, as tight of a grip as his hands on my thighs, and we’re locked together. I’m lost in their depths and somehow I’m found. There’s a new me, maybe the me he’s always seen.
And beneath the gaze, beneath the sex and the desire and the pleasure we’re bringing each other, there’s something else. Fear. He’d said you couldn’t have one without the other and here was our fear. It was alive and it was real and it was something that we both now shared.
I just don’t know what fear it is.
I close my eyes as he pushes in deeper, his fingers sliding over my clit until I’m gasping and breathless. He has a way of making me forget everything, a way of losing my thoughts. He’s always done this to me, just never in this way.
“I’m coming,” he groans out, his voice shaking as his pumps get quicker, the rhythm picking up. And for the third time tonight, I’m coming too. I just manage to hang on long enough to keep my eyes open, to watch him as he comes.
He doesn’t disappoint. His head goes back, mouth gaping, eyes pinched shut. The corded muscles of his neck stand out, his biceps taut and sinewy as his grip tightens. Beads of sweat snake down his wide chest.
I have that effect on him. The thought is unreal. He’s coming because of his desire for me.
But those thoughts only fuel my own flames. I’m ripped apart again, my bones becoming jelly, my world blooming with fire and heat and stars.
Logan collapses on top of me, just his elbow on the couch to keep his weight from crushing me. He rests his damp forehead against mine, our breaths deep, chests pressing against each other and creating their own heat.
His lips gently brush mine, kiss my chin, kiss the side of my mouth.
“All those things I said I wanted to do to you,” he whispers, voice hoarse. He stares at me tenderly as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I hope you don’t mind…I’m just getting started.”
I grin at him, my hand cupping the side of his face, marveling that I can do that, amazed by what we are now, if only for this moment.
“Good,” I whisper.
A rooster’s crow cuts into my dreams, the fragments of them thick and sticking inside my head. It was a sex dream again, I think, the vague feeling of Logan being inside me, his hands and mouth all over my body, the heady, drugged desire of…