We both had hang-ups.
I understood that.
I accepted that.
But right now, they just didn’t matter.
He made up for his avoidance of eye contact by moving in a way that told me he was determined to have me. He pulled off my sneakers and tossed them to the ground and then he took off his shoes. In silence, he lowered himself onto me, and there was no denying how much he wanted me.
Heat flared in my belly.
I forced myself to believe we weren’t on opposite sides and I focused on his movements.
Everything became this man.
Everything he did was all I could think about, including the way he slid his hands to the back of my neck and pulled the ponytail holder from my hair. I even thought about how although he wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t rough. I especially liked the way his fingers tangled in my locks and tipped my head back, exposing my throat.
Oh God.
Then he slid those soft lips down my skin and his fingers followed.
I felt each beat of his breath and mine.
Logan didn’t stop until he reached my bra, and when he did, his tongue licked the lacy edges of the fabric and then his fingers pushed one of the cups to the side.
Excitement danced in my belly.
My nipples were tight, like hard steel tips. No, they were hard, aching steel tips. When Logan skimmed his thumb over one, I sucked in a breath and nearly gasped. But when his mouth closed around it, and I felt tongue, teeth, and lips all at the same time, I practically whimpered.
It felt so good—warm and wicked.
Eventually, my squirming must have given away how much more I needed, because Logan stopped his ministrations to my breasts and worked his way back up to my throat. That torture was equally sweet as he sucked the sensitive skin between his teeth along the way. The bites didn’t hurt, but they did send sensations ripping through me.
We were on the sofa and room was limited, but still I bucked beneath him with writhing need. Like a lioness out of her cage, I felt wild. My hands found the back of his head and I threaded my fingers in his hair. Tugging it, I pulled him to my mouth where I wanted those lips on me.
He groaned, and that was when his hands slid down from my breasts to my hips to inside the waistband of my pants. He didn’t take them off right away and although I wanted him to, I didn’t want his mouth to leave mine either.
Luckily, it didn’t have to.
He somehow knew what I needed and his palm pressed against my clit on the outside of my panties. Again, I writhed beneath him. I’d never felt this sexually charged. I was thirty years old, a self-proclaimed sexually repressed adult, and I was melting beneath this man like a sex-starved teenager.
Soon, I was reduced to nothing but a body of tingling nerve endings. The way his fingers slid inside my panties and found my slick heat electrified me from head to toe. He knew what he was doing, though; he took his time, teasing me, gliding up to caress my clit and back down.
Over and over.
He remained quiet except for the sounds of sucking in a breath and a few groans.
I’m not sure if he read my signs or didn’t want to talk because he feared waking Clementine, but either way, I was glad for it.
This was far too enjoyable to end. In truth, I’m not sure I could end it.
Breathless, I moved my hands to his bare shoulders and slid my tongue down his throat, and just like he had, I pulled his skin between my teeth. I might have been rougher, he might have a mark—I wasn’t sure. I just couldn’t control myself.
His responding groan told me he was burning just like I was, and his body language told me not to stop, so I didn’t. Not until I had to. Not until I couldn’t focus on anything but his fingers dipping inside me. The way it felt when he slid them in and out. The circling of his thumb, the movement of his hand, the wetness I could feel dripping onto my panties.
I couldn’t believe it but I was going to come—like this—beneath him, with our pants on and his hands inside my panties. Oh, yes, I was going to come, right now. I didn’t do this. I hardly ever came from a man’s touch alone. It took moving mountains, hours of men trying, to make me come. Yet I was already tipping over the edge.
Sensation after delicious sensation was all I could feel. And they were coming one after the other, fast and furious. So much so that my fingernails dug into his skin as dizzying amounts of pleasure surrounded me. Logan didn’t stop. He kept the pace up and I rode his hand.
And then I completely shattered, biting my lip to stifle my cries as my clit spasmed over and over, each spark of pleasure causing me to cry out.
Logan kissed my neck and slowed his fingers as my body shuddered beneath him. When my grip on him let up, he cupped me as he had in the beginning, his palm pressed tight to my sex.
My body was limp and sated. I felt amazing, but then I made the mistake of thinking how I’d never enjoyed a man making me come like I just had. The thought caused me to freak out a little.