Wild(63)

            I nodded drunkenly as he curled that finger up inside me, hitting some secret spot that sent me careening over the edge.

            He made a sound of appreciation. “You’re past ready.”

            I nodded again, insensible, aching, my body clenching in need.

            And then he was there. Hard and big, pushing inside me. His hands held tight to my hips, anchoring me as he drove in to the hilt.

            I whimpered, the sensation of his pulsing cock alien and overwhelming. I wasn’t a virgin, but he made me feel like one. All of this . . . him . . . felt so new.

            His eyes blazed down at me. “God, you’re tight.”

            “It’s been a while,” I gasped.

            “I can tell.”

            I made an inarticulate sound in response to that as he moved again, stretching me. His shoulders and arms quivered and I could tell he was restraining himself from moving faster, but the slow friction of him sliding out and in again stoked the ache back to life.

            “God,” I moaned. “I can’t take it.”

            His eyes sparked fire and he drove into me, sliding me back on the table. He changed his grip on me, fingers digging into the swells of my ass, locking me into position for the hammering of his body. “You can take it.”

            I nodded. Incoherent. Sensation rippled down my spine and twisted around to the pit of my stomach. I felt him deep. Deeper than I ever thought possible. I came in a flash, shuddering with a piercing cry. I’d never been loud and my face burned until the sensations started all over again as he continued to stroke inside me.

            He laughed low and deep, the sound a purr that vibrated through me. “So you’re a screamer,” he breathed against my ear. “That’s fucking hot. Keep screaming. Show me how much you love this.”

            I shook my head, for some reason defiant, even though I reveled in his body driving into mine. I didn’t know why I fought it. He’d made me come twice tonight and now I was headed for a third orgasm. For a girl who never got off during a four-year relationship it was nothing short of a miracle.

            Logan kept going, increasing his pace. He was far from done. My nails dug into his arms as he worked over me, the sound of our bodies smacking together filling the air. His biceps flexed and bulged under my fingers. Unbelievable as it seemed, the insistent friction of him moving inside me had me hurtling toward that crest again.

            Unintelligible sounds choked from my lips again and he dropped his head into my neck, biting down on my earlobe.

            He reached between our bodies and found my clit, rolling it once before pinching it firmly. That’s all it took. I came apart in his arms, shuddering and gasping and moaning, my arms slipping around his shoulders and hanging on to him.

            He followed fast, slamming into me with a ferocity that would have slid me right off the table if not for his grip on my ass.

            His throat arched and I felt him jerk and pulse to a stop inside me. His body folded over me then, his firm chest sticky on mine. We were still joined. I held on to his shoulders, my heart pounding like an incessant drum in my ears.

            My fingertips worked against his skin, fluttering slightly on the smooth surface, unsure where to go. What to do next. I’d never been here before. I’d only ever slept with someone I was in a relationship with. A fling was a new experience and I was lost on the protocol.

            He lifted his head and looked down at me, his blue eyes deep and unreadable. He still didn’t move his weight off me or slide out of my body. His deep voice rumbled up from his chest, vibrating against my bare breasts. “I knew it would be like this with you.”

            My pulse skittered at my neck and his eyes caught the flutter of movement. His fingers grazed my pulse point there like it was the most fascinating and tempting thing he had ever seen. As though I was.