“Damn right you are, little girl.”
5
Layla
“What’s wrong, princess?” Logan asks minutes later after he pulls his body off of mine and surveys my look.
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Look at me, beautiful,” he commands, but I can’t make eye contact with him at this moment. But he’s not going to allow that to slide one bit. His hand extends and his finger finds my chin, rotating my face toward him. “Look at me. It’s how we have to always communicate. Directly, honestly, and transparently.”
I breathe out hard and scrape my back up off the table, grabbing the edge of the table in a sitting position before quickly sliding off as I become aware of the fact that I don’t have pants on.
My head jerks from side to side, scanning the room until I see them on the other side of the room on top of a potted plant. As quickly as humanly possible I dash across the floor to them and slide them on.
“Hey,” Logan says, boxing me in. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.”
My head stays downward as I’m still trying to process what the hell just happened. It was everything I’ve been dreaming about, and more. But now that we’ve taken that first step I have no idea how to take the second. What comes next is anybody’s guess, and I have a million of them pulsing through my head right now.
I know Logan
thinks I’m his in all ways, and I am…always have been. I just don’t know exactly what that entails, or what he expects of me. And my lack of experience, and knowledge, has me standing there like a lump on a log, not doing anything.
“Eyes up,” he says, lifting my chin for the second time in as many minutes, if not less. When my eyes finally reach his I see ownership in his look and a look of complete satisfaction on his face. Not only that, but I see some of the light in the room reflecting off the slick coating on his face, knowing that it’s mine.
And then I see something else. My eyes wander down to his thick cock, red like he was beating it like it stole something. It’s half flaccid but still bigger than anything I’ve ever seen on the Internet when I was researching what to expect for when the time finally does come.
Logan grabs his trousers and pulls them up, covering himself and probably making it a lot easier to walk now and to chase me down if I decide to bolt.
I’m just not sure if I want to bolt up to my room or shoot across the small distance between us and into his arms. It’s clear that if I jump he would catch me. He’s already manhandled me like I’m weightless, which in some ways is exactly how I feel now after having my first non self-induced climax. The way he moved his tongue across my center blew away the many nights of imagining how it might go if it ever happened, resigning myself to the thought that it likely never would.
And now that it has, accompanied by the fact that he provided some tough love, some stern discipline, I feel strangely grounded. I feel safer knowing he won’t let me walk over him, yet something in his gaze tells me he’ll spoil me at the same time. It’s that dichotomy that reaffirms I’ve found the one and only man that’s perfect for me, with one glaring issue which is why my head wants to hang in despair.
“You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong,” he reminds me.
“Nothing.”
“Precious. Are you ashamed that you tried something for the first time and found out that you like it?”
“No…and you’re pretty confident in your skills there I see,” I add a bit facetiously. He doesn’t need to beat his chest while I’m still standing here, feeling vulnerable.
“No meaning it wasn’t your first time or no you’re not ashamed?”
The steam inside me builds and I feel my fists tighten. “Yes, it was my first time!”
“Mine,” he growls, before moving closer and pulling my head into his chest. “I’m not trying to beat my chest about it,” he says as if he can read my mind. “I only want your head buried there, not my fists. Sweetheart, it’s just that I know you liked it because of your response, and in the same way, you know I liked it equally as much by my grunts and growls and the way I couldn’t take my mouth off your perfect body, except to stand up and mark you in another way.”
My cheeks heat at the memory of him spurting his hot seed onto my legs and then how I literally licked it from his fingers.
“Baby girl this is just the start. This is me feeling so damn proud that I was able to show you a part of yourself that maybe you didn’t know, and I won’t lie…did the exact same for me too.”
“Has anyone else ever called you that?”
“What?”
“You know. That.”
He cocks his head as if he doesn’t know exactly what I’m talking about. He does. He just wants to hear it. “Daddy,” I submit, giving in.