One More Rule (Blindfold Club 2.50)

He smirked. His hands busied themselves undoing his pants, and it showed off his impressive upper body. All sinewy muscles flexing under his smooth, tan skin. The pants fell off his hips, slid down, and he kicked them away. The black socks were tugged off and added to his pile.

Witnessing Logan in only a pair of black boxer briefs set my body on fire. I freed the comb that the veil was attached to from my hair and, following his lead, I dropped it to the floor.

“Come here.” It was a soft request from Logan, not a demand, and I went to him instantly. His hands swept over my skin, greedy to touch what he’d been denied. They plunged beneath the back of my panties, and he gripped a handful of flesh, driving me against his hard body.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, which grew reckless and frantic, and it was impossible not to match his intensity.

“I love you so much,” I answered back, clawing at his underwear.

It was a race to see who could get the other one naked first, but he won, of course. He lifted me up into his arms and stepped into the tub. A moment later he had the faucet shut off and the jets running, both of us sitting in the warm water. My back rested against his chest, while his strong arms held me, and his legs were wrapped around my waist.

There were tiny tugs at my hair. Was he . . .? I glanced over my shoulder and saw him set the bobby pin on the tile. Then, another. Shit, this man made everything sexy, even something as simple as helping me let my hair down. I grabbed his foot and pulled it into my lap, massaging the sole, and he issued a groan of approval.

We chatted about our morning apart, recapping our favorite moments from the day as he pulled the pins from my hair and I rubbed his tired feet. It wasn’t the type of intimacy I thought we’d share the moments after we came into the honeymoon suite, but it was wonderful. I loved the quiet moments with him just as much as the steamy, intense ones.

“I think I got them all,” he said. His fingertips drifted down my neck and he rubbed my shoulders as I combed my fingers through my hair, searching for any stragglers.

“Good . . . job,” I moaned. His hands were magic.

“What would you say if I told you we should get out so I could fuck my wife senseless?”

“I’d say I like the sound of that.”

“Hmm. I thought so.”

The jets were shut off and the water gurgled as he lifted the drain stop. I’d barely finished toweling off when he yanked the plush fabric from my hands and threw it to the ground. His expression was pure sexual hunger, only intensified in the candlelight. A gentle shove, and I was sprawled out beneath him on the bed.

“Look at you. All fucking gorgeous and so fucking mine.”

My lungs refused to work as he gripped his thick cock and stroked himself, his wedding band the only thing he wore. I couldn’t control myself. My fingers flew to my clit, touching myself.

“Oh, shit, Logan. I need you.”

He sank down to kneel and placed my knees on his shoulders. My body didn’t know how to react. I loved when he went down on me, but I was greedy and impatient. “No, please— God.” Then his tongue was inside me, and thought was too difficult. “Yes, yes.”

Velvety heat flicked on me, sending sparks radiating out and down my trembling legs. My moans were a mixture of satisfaction and whining, and they grew louder with each of Logan’s careful manipulations. Fire seared deep inside, and I bucked off the bed, seizing his head in my hands.

“Make love to me,” I cried. Every cell in me was quaking, and I worried I was going to vibrate apart. The only thing that could stop my uncontrollable trembling was if he brought us together.

The bed shifted as he launched to his feet, wiping his mouth with one hand and giving a final stroke to his rock-hard cock. He held himself steady and positioned himself right at the apex of my legs, rubbing the tip in my arousal.

“Green?” he teased.

“So fucking green. Please. Please.”

He pushed inside and I wanted to cry at how good it felt. The stretch the first time he moved in me was like nothing else. My legs tightened around his waist.

“Fuck, Evie. You feel amazing. So wet and so perfect.”

My eyes squeezed shut so I could better enjoy the sensations as he slid deep, all the way until I couldn’t take him any further. My hands clutched at his chest and he gripped them, linking our fingers together so he could hold my hands flat against the sheets.

His thrusts were slow and calculating. Each one seemed to hit a new spot that was better than the last. His mouth roved over my lips, my neck, and my breasts. I swallowed back a moan as he increased his pace. Spots danced in front of my vision as the orgasm closed in.

“Yellow,” I gasped.

I was sure I didn’t need to tell him; he knew my body better than I did sometimes. He knew exactly how much I could take, how much I needed.

“Did you . . . hear me?” I said between pants. He hadn’t eased up.