“Avery,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. I pull my head back and meet his mouth again, but soon Logan is pulling away from my lips and trailing his way to my neck.
I know exactly where he’s going and the anticipation is killing me. I weave my hand through the waves of his hair, almost holding my breath.
I almost cry out when his tongue finds my nipple. My head falls back again as he continues to tease me with his mouth, softly and tantalizing at first, but then more firmly. The world around me fades away into nothing but Logan’s warm breath on my skin and the gentle tug of his lips and tongue.
This is so right. How could I not see it before?
Pressure is mounting within me, and I shift against him, pressing my chest more firmly against his mouth. But even though I love what he’s doing to me, I need to feel his mouth on mine again. Gently but firmly, I guide his face with my hands until our lips meet.
That’s when I feel him starting to unbutton his shirt now that his hands are free. I can’t wait to touch what’s underneath, to feel more of him under my fingertips.
Keeping our mouths together, I slide one hand underneath while he’s still working on his buttons; I trace the outline of his abdomen, tight and hard. The last time I saw his chest, when we were kids, it was completely smooth. Now I feel hair under my fingers, with smooth, taunt muscles underneath. There’s an irresistible heat that radiates off of him.
My hand works its way up his chest while the other helps pull the shirt off entirely. I break from the kiss, only to take one look at him. He isn’t big and bulky, but lean and strong. Exactly how I like it.
“Is this okay?” he whispers in a hoarse voice.
“More than okay,” I sigh. “Please, touch more of me, Logan.”
Now that his hands are free, they come back to cup my ass; they slide underneath my cotton jogging pants and find the soft flesh beneath. His touch makes me pulsate at my core. My toes find the ground only to lift myself up from his thigh so he’s able to slide the pants down.
I’m about to sit back down on his thigh, but he stands from the chair before I have the chance. Next thing I know, he’s right in front of me, the hair on his chest tickling my breasts, and I’m fighting against the belt buckle at his jeans. Beneath my hands, I can feel the swell of him—how much he wants me.
The pressure is so intense that I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. Our mouths meet again, hungry, a mess of tongues and teeth and lips, until I’ve finally loosened his belt and pulled the jeans down.
He pauses, his hands still hovering below the fabric of my underwear. His eyes look deep into mine. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice deep and husky.
God, I’m going to pass out.
“Yes,” I whisper back, and that’s enough to have him grab me by the waist and push me backwards. Suddenly, I bump into the bed behind me, and Logan pushes me into it, crushing me with his weight and his mouth.
There’s nothing between us anymore, nothing except a strong hand that glides from my hip to between my thighs. He slides his fingers underneath the front of the fabric that’s there, and I gasp as I feel his touch. Logan’s touch. My back arches to urge his hand to touch more of me, but he’s painfully slow, teasing me, so gentle and soft with his movements.
I run my fingers through his tousled hair as he works his magic, while I try to move one hand towards his boxers. But he stops me with his other hand. “Not yet,” he grunts against my teeth. “I’ve waited so long to touch you like this, Avery. To return the favour.” The memory of that night is vivid but so far away at the same time. “I need to …” His hand stops, and his lips begin to make a trail of kisses down towards my breasts again. But this time, he keeps going, down past my breasts and toward my belly button.
I hold my breath in anticipation. I know what he’s going to do, and I already feel like I’m going to break apart just at the touch of his tongue.
His hot breath teases the sensitive skin, making my hips jerk up involuntarily. I gasp as his tongue flicks against my navel, trailing lower still until he’s at the edge of my underwear. He looks up at me, his eyes now dark with lust. “Can I?”
“Yes, please, yes,” I urge him. His fingers slide under the lace again, then pull down to pull the underwear away. The world narrows to just his touch, his breath on my skin, the anticipation building within me.
He wraps his arms around my thighs and slowly pulls them further apart just before I feel the tickle of his breath against me. I sigh, then moan as he begins, gently at first but then with more fervour.
“Logan,” I gasp, unable to think of anything else but this man, this perfect man, this gentle and loving man who holds me at his mercy. And for the first time in forever, I can’t think of anything but him, and us, and the two of us together—not a single drop of anxiety can reach me in this moment.
My hips push up against my will, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe?—
Until I come undone, wave by wave, and hear myself scream Logan’s name.
Soon, he’s looking up at me, slowly working his way back up to my mouth. I feel the bulge of him against me, and I’m swollen with more want.
It seems like climaxing didn’t relieve the pressure; instead, it keeps building, and against my will, I’m clawing against his boxers as his lips find my ear.
“I’m going to lose my mind seeing you like this,” he says hoarsely. “You’re everything I imagined and more. You’re so beautiful, Avery.”
“Logan, please,” I beg him, my voice just as hoarse as his. My entire body is trembling beneath his. “I want you. All of you.” My hands finally manage to slide his boxers down, and I wrap my hand around him—he jerks and inhales sharply.
But then his demeanour changes. He backs away, and my body cries out, suddenly cold and alone without the weight of him. “Shit,” he says. “Do you have condoms here?”
