Chapter 15

 

~ ALLIE ~

 

 

My breath is ragged as he slips his hands beneath my bra, and I’m covered in goosebumps from the feeling of his calloused fingers swiping against my taut nipples.

I know this is the wrong way to get what I want from him, and I can already imagine the regret I’ll feel afterward. But right now, I’ve never felt more powerful than when I saw that lost look in his eyes replaced by desire.

Never have I felt more like a woman than at that moment, and it’s got me in heady stupor, my veins coursing blood to my hormone-soaked brain. I reach down to feel the throbbing beneath the zipper of his jeans and he pulls my hand away. I’m struck by disappointment, till he reaches beneath my legs to lift me up.

I savor the taste of him as he carries me upstairs and lowers me onto the bed. Standing above me, his eyes are full of heat, and I know not to expect a sweet, gentle bout of sex from him right now. If I wanted that, I should have initiated it some other time, back in that hotel room maybe. Not at a time when the demons of his past have filled him with fury.

He pulls off his shirt and I nearly gasp at the sight of him. I’ve seen his muscles before, but it’s an entirely different experience knowing that I’ll get to touch them, feel them sliding against me skin-to-skin. I pull off my shorts and toss them to the side of his bed and he does the same with his jeans.

I reach for the erection that is tenting out from his briefs and he lowers his mouth to mine while I touch him. Teeth graze against my tongue and I hear a moan that is more like a growl when I slip my hand beneath the thin fabric and feel the supple, tight skin throbbing over such hardness.

His mouth is moving to my breast, leaving a damp trail of kisses along my neck. Freeing himself from his briefs, I feel his cock pressing against me, urging for entry. Arching my back, I ache for more pressure, and he senses my needs as his hand moves to my panties. I should be embarrassed by how wet he’s made me, but I can’t feel anything but pleasure as he slips two fingers past the fabric and enters me.

I cry out from pleasure instantly, my body bucking beneath him, urging him deeper, wanting more contact. My muscles quiver as his fingers open slightly, spreading me more. I come hard and completely, and my pelvis is still rocking as his mouth moves lower on my body and I feel his hot breath above the thin cotton.

He peels me free of the cloth and his voice is thick with command. “Open your legs.”

I can’t think to deny him. I’d do anything at this point to keep these sensations going. His lips meet my clit and my vision glazes over from the feel of his tongue circling around my center as his fingers move inside of me. I feel myself climbing up again, soaring toward a climax that is still just outside of my reach, till one of his fingers delves deeper, arching just so that it hits my most sensitive depths and I come hard against his mouth.

“More,” I say as he climbs off of me, and I am relieved when I see him pull a condom from his nightstand drawer. I honest-to-God might have forgotten, desperate as I am to feel him inside me. He sheaths himself quickly and I take a long look at his form above me. “You’re huge,” I utter softly, and feel the heat of embarrassment sting my cheeks realizing I said it out loud. But it’s true, he’s long and thick and it seems in perfect proportion to his body.

My words seem to arouse him more, as he plunders my mouth again so thoroughly my lips feel bruised.

There’s emotion in his eyes, and I don’t know how to define it. Harsher than lust, fiercer than need—almost an urgency steeped in anger. It scares me, and has my heart picking up speed as he spreads my legs, but also makes me moist with desire.

“Say you want this, Allie.”

I feel a spike of terror flare through me that he’s become just rational enough to stop. And I don’t want him to. I need him inside me like I need my next breath.

“I want this. I want this.” I repeat it over and over, even as he slides himself inside of me. He’s barely nudging into me at first, and it’s not what I need. My fingers rake against his back, and I pinch them into his skin as I pull him closer, urging him deeper.

His head gives a single shake as he resists. “I could hurt you,” he says, and I know his words have more meaning than just this one joining of our bodies, but I don’t care.

“Hurt me,” I say, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer. He responds by entering me with a single thrust, so deep that it does hurt, a spellbinding pain that I want to feel again even as he slowly pulls out. My body yields to him as he thrusts again, pounding into me, jarring against my womb and rocking my body against the sheets that are slick with my sweat.

I’ve never felt a man this deep inside me and it’s shattering me. My breathing is staggered and I’m certain my heart is skipping a beat or two, trying to recover from the shock of his entry. My channel spasms around him as I soar through a climax that has me seeing stars in the back of my skull. I cry out his name and I feel my eyes tearing up, moist like the rest of me.

“Are you okay, baby?” He’s staring at me and I can tell the rage is subsiding, before I’m ready to see it go.

“I’m okay. It feels good, Logan. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He brushes a lock of hair off my face, and I see a trace of tenderness in his eyes. Then more, as he kisses my jaw up to my ear and whispers, “You’re so gorgeous when you come.”

I feel his tongue tracing along the outer edge of my ear as he starts to move inside me again, slower this time, but just as deep. His hand moves down my leg and he slides my thigh higher on his hip. My other thigh follows, till my ass is arching upward with my legs wrapped around him. The angle is a little different now, and I can feel his cock touch my G spot on his next thrust. My eyes widen, and he smiles in response. “That’s it, baby.” His words coax me up a spiral again, chasing pleasure, as I feel another orgasm in my reach. I’ve never had sex like this and every cell in my body seems overly receptive to his touch. I’m exhausted, and feel like there’s no way I can have another, but the need is so great.

My eyes lower from his face to his abs, to the tight V of muscles that leads to where we are joined together and the sight of him inside me just about pushes me over the edge. One of my hands moves from his back to his rippled chest and I feel the muscles moving underneath his skin and he slides in and out of me. I rest my hand at his heart and can feel its rapid beat beneath my fingers. The rhythm of it soothes me, even as the feel of him pressing inside me has every muscle in my body tingling and contracting.

His eyes are locked on mine as his muscled arms hold him up from my body so that I’m not crushed, allowing me to take in the sight of his remarkable form joined with mine.

I want to feel him shatter the same way I did. I need to feel that—to know that the power I briefly possessed when I tempted him into this is still mine. “Let me feel it,” I urge him. “I want to feel you come, Logan. Now.” I try to make my voice demanding, but it’s not as powerful as his was. But from the flare of passion I see in his eyes, I’m thinking I might have won. He pulls one of my legs upward so that my calf is over his shoulder. Then the other. I’m totally vulnerable to him now, my body so open to his length that when he thrusts inside of me I cry out intensely. His body stills at the sound of my gasps.

 “Don’t stop,” I demand, and revel in the look of desire in his eyes as he takes me. I’m drunk off the sight of him pounding into me. I know I shouldn’t get such a thrill from the look of his body, but I can’t help it. I’ve never had this before, and I might never have it again, and even that doesn’t dampen this feeling of wantonness that grips me as he thrusts inside of me. His body glistens from sweat, accentuating the shape of him and driving me upwards again into the heavens as a burning heat pools at my center, building, building…

My body aches beneath him, muscles I didn’t even know I had cry out, yet still the fire builds inside me with every thrust. Till I finally feel myself come again, screaming out his name shamelessly, my entry gripping him tighter with each spasm, till he joins me in release with a final thrust.

His chest heaving, he gently moves my legs back down to the bed. My body seems to protest as he pulls himself from me.

“Did I hurt you?”’

I want to lie and tell him he didn’t. But I remember he said he never lies, and I want to honor that. “In the most extraordinary way.” I smile as I say it, and I hope he takes my meaning.

His lips brush against my face—my cheek first, then my nose, then my lips, resting there for a moment or two before he slips from the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

The bed is damp and cold without him and I long to beg him to come back. But I can’t assume that he wants more of me. I offered myself to him as a distraction from his pain. And if the pain is gone, I might not be what he needs anymore. The thought of that terrifies me.

I hear him in the bathroom, moving around. The sound of water running. He might be showering, wiping himself clean of the mistake he just made with me.

Oh, God, I hope it wasn’t a mistake. It would devastate me. Even if I never get to have sex with him again, it hurts even more to think he might not want to be my friend anymore.

I’m wallowing in my own thoughts, negativity spiraling out of control as it always does with me in unfamiliar situations. And this is completely unfamiliar. I feel tears dampen my eyes, maybe from fear or shame or just an overwhelming feeling of loneliness at the thought of losing him, when he comes back to the bed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Damn, he notices everything.

“Nothing, I—” I want to tell him that I’m not used to these situations and it scares me. I want to tell him… but I can’t.

“You don’t have regrets, do you?” He lies down next to me, pulling me to my side and resting his hand on my waist. His touch is so tender, it slays me inside, letting him deeper into my soul.

“No. No, definitely not. I—I’m not really…” My voice wavers. “I’ve only had one sex partner in my life. I’m not really good at these things.”

There’s shock in his eyes, and there’s no denying it. I know my average is damn low since my friends tease me about it regularly. And I remind myself that just because I haven’t had a lot of sex in my life, doesn’t change the act itself. It’s still just sex, and I shouldn’t act like it’s a big deal.

But it feels like a big deal right now, with nesting hormones surging through my veins uncontrollably and me just inexperienced enough to not be able to control it. I don’t remember feeling quite this way with Devin, even my first time. And that means that in the span of just a few weeks, this man has crept closer to my soul than someone I supposedly loved for over a year before he dumped me on my ass.

I can still remember the pain of that rejection at a time when I needed him most. And if Logan means more to me than Devin did, then I’m even more vulnerable.

I feel the fear inside me, making me shiver as he pulls my naked body closer to his. He takes my hand and gives a playful tug.

“Come on,” he urges as he stands, his hand still joined to mine. “I thought a hot bath might be in order.”

My heart does a little happy dance as he takes me into the bathroom and I see the steam rising from the soaker tub. I remember the first time I saw this tub, and the thought of him in it with me has fueled my fantasies on more than a few occasions. So the prospect of actually fulfilling the fantasy has me just about passed out on the floor.

“You like baths, right?” he asks, dipping his foot into the tub and leading me to join him.

“I love them. My condo only had a stand-up shower.”

He tsk-tsks a little with a laugh. “That’s a sin.” He slides down the back of the tub and moves me so that I am sitting facing away from him, cradled between his legs. They are powerful, like the rest of him. His calves are as thick as my thighs—and I’m no toothpick—and corded with muscles that make me suspect he’s run a few marathons in his life.

Reaching for the bar of soap, he touches his lips to my neck. I feel his erection coming to life behind me and it sends my heart racing again. Sliding the soap across my chest, my nipples pucker at the sensation. Then he rubs the soap in between his hands to a nice lather and sets the bar to the side. His hands caress me, up my arms to my neck, down my back, and again to my breasts. I inhale sharply as his touch journeys down my belly, and one hand toys with my soft curls while the other softly slides along my opening. I part my legs more, aching to have the feel of his flesh inside me again, but he whispers, “Not now, beautiful. Rest now. I worked you too hard.” I can feel his low chuckle vibrate against my back.

His fingers continue their sultry massage, circling and teasing, but never penetrating my folds. “Please,” I beg, unable to hold back.

“Shhh,” he murmurs as one hand moves to my chest, cupping a breast and squeezing a nipple just to the point it almost hurts, but not quite. His mouth plunders my neck, sucking on me, grazing his teeth against me, and then his tongue forges a path down my shoulder.

He reaches to pop the plug from the drain, still letting the fresh, hot bathwater flow from the faucet. “Rinse cycle,” he says, and I feel him smiling against the skin of my upper back as he kisses me.

Between my legs his fingers play with me again, making all my muscles as taut as a violin’s strings. He circles my clit, and then lightly traces the outline of the folds that are still tender from his entry. Reaching my center again, I moan, low and desperate. “Oh, Logan.”

“That’s right, baby. Feel it.”

The fresh, hot water that is making my skin sizzle is nothing compared to the heat I feel in my veins as my core seizes up. I feel the blood flow pooling at my center, throbbing, aching.

“Let go,” he urges me, as my pelvis arches against his hand.

“Inside me,” I beg. “I need you inside me.”

“Not now, baby. Later,” he tells me and I pray it’s a promise he’ll keep.

He circles and circles the hard nub of my sex, dipping down to caress the tender folds just before I’m about to come. It’s like he’s teasing me, prolonging the orgasm till I split into two. “No, no,” I beg him as his finger moves away again, at that moment when my climax is just within reach.

“Don’t rush it. Enjoy it.”

Enjoy it? I’m dying inside, a heady, agonizing, completely thrilling death. His other hand massages me, moving from one breast to the other as my hips continue to press forward, aching for a firmer touch.

“Please, Logan. Please,” I don’t even realize I’m shouting till I hear a slight echo of my voice against the tiled walls.

“Now, baby,” he says, bringing his finger back up to my clit, and squeezing it gently as he circles it. I cry out, loud, the air expelling from my lungs, my body vibrating, encircled in his hold. I thrust against his palm, throwing my head back against his shoulder and pressing my chest toward his other hand. I pulse against him, throbbing like a heartbeat, over and over till the waves finally slow and I’m able to breath again.

No, this is nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.

And I might die without it.