“Please,” I breathe, arching my back toward him. But he doesn’t tongue my nipple. I’m not even sure he knows how much I need for him to touch me.
With a quick tug, he unbuttons my jeans, and my zipper tracks slowly southward, the tines loud, our breathing and my heartbeat the only sounds in the room until the click, click, click begins. His hand slips beneath the waist of my panties, and he cups my mound. He doesn’t move, even when I rock my hips, trying to force his hand to slide between my lips. Oh God, please touch me.
Instead, he keeps his hand steady and still while his mouth touches mine. His kiss is as soft and gentle as the cup of his palm. My clit throbs, as though it’s reaching out for him since he won’t close the distance. I murmur against his lips. He lifts his head and looks down at me, his tongue still teasing my lower lip, licking across and into me. He pulls back, grinning confidently. “Something wrong?” he asks. His eyelids are half lowered, as if he’s drowsy. But I know he’s not. He’s fully alert…and waiting for me.
Breath heaves from my chest, and I bite my lip.
“My hands are full, so I can’t tug your lip free,” he says, laughing as he opens my mouth with his tongue and sucks my lower lip. I can’t keep up. I just can’t. “Better?” he asks.
I let my head fall back against the wall with a thud. “No, I’m not better.” I’m standing in the living room with my shirt open, my boobs presented to him like they’re on a plate, his hand down my panties and…nothing.
“You’re such an ass,” I snarl playfully. My nipples hurt, they’re so hard. My panties are soaked, I’m sure. And he’s cool as he can be.
“You want me, right?” he asks, his eyebrows drawing together.
“No,” I lie. Logan slides a finger between my lips beneath my panties, and I breathe out a hiss. But he pulls his whole hand from my undies before he can stroke across my clit again. One touch? That’s all I get?
He lets my hands go long enough to push my shirt off my shoulders. He spins me to face the wall and unhooks my bra, letting it fall on the floor beside us. His hands slide into the waistband of my loosened jeans, and they track down my legs, along with my panties.
“No Betty Boop?” he asks. I used to wear Betty Boop panties before. But Madison Avenue doesn’t make cartoon undies.
He stops to pull my boots off and pushes my jeans and panties down over my feet. His lips touch the back of my knee, and I grow lightheaded at the sensation of his touch. It has been so long.
He spins me around, and I don’t waste a second. I jump up and wrap my legs around his hips, hooking my feet behind his back.
“Where’s the bed?” he asks, grinning against my lips.
I can’t wait for a bed. The couch is closer. “Couch,” I say. He didn’t see my lips, so I point to it.
He sits down with me straddling his lap. I lift myself high enough to work the buckle of his belt. He lets me, and he looks somewhat amused as he watches my frantic fumbling. He’s hard beneath his zipper, and if I can ever get it down, I will be able to take him inside me. Logan lifts his hips when I finally get the button free and the zipper undone, and he shoves his jeans down a little. Not far. I don’t give him time.
“Em,” he says as I position myself on top of him. He tips my chin up. “Do we need a condom?”
Oh God. He would think of that. He’s just that good. “We didn’t use one last time,” I remind him. Or the time before that.
“You said we were okay those times,” he reminds me. He takes his dick in his hand and rubs it along my slit, notching it in my cleft where it bumps my clit. “Are we okay now?”
“I can’t think when you do that,” I tell him, trying to count the days. My period just ended a few days ago, but then I remember that I’m on the pill. My mom took me to the doctor as soon as I went home. I don’t want to think about my mom right now. I tap his shoulders and bounce in his lap. “We’re okay,” I say.
When the words come out of my mouth, he aims himself directly at my opening and takes my naked hips in his hands, pulling me down onto him. He groans aloud, filling me slowly as he looks into my eyes. “God, I love you.”
My stomach clenches, in a good way, at the naked emotion on his face. He leans forward, pushing me back, as he realigns our bodies. I brace myself, leaning back with my hands on his knees, pushing my breasts forward. With a nearly feral gleam in his eye, he licks across my nipple, and then sucks it quickly into his mouth, drawing deeply on the turgid flesh. He shoves his pants down to his ankles, kicks off his shoes, and wiggles his legs until his pants and boxers hit the floor. He rolls me to the side and onto my back, laying me on the couch with a gentle arm behind my back. He never pulls out of me. If he pulled out at this point, I would have to scream.