“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this,” I murmured, placing one hand at the small of his back and giving him a brief, firm push so that he relaxed onto the bed. I let my hips fall a little lower, my cock sliding against the soft cleft of his ass, rocking gently back and forth. It was a tease. I knew it was. But there was no way I was just going to plunge into him and give him what he wanted that easily.
And, truthfully, I was pretty sure I’d come within a minute if I sank into him right now. I needed to draw it out for my own sake.
“Took you long enough to finally fuck me,” he said.
I let out a low, satisfied chuckle. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the night we met,” I admitted, dipping to nibble the back of his shoulder.
“No way.”
“Yes,” I said. “You looked at me like I was a wild farm animal set loose in the apartment, but I liked your sweater. And your glasses. And your ass, of course.”
“You were checking out my ass that first night?” Logan asked, incredulous.
“As if you weren’t checking out my whole body,” I said, giving him a little bite, his skin so warm and pliant against my lips.
He let out a slow sigh. “Fine. I was.”
“Admit it. You kind of like football players, don’t you?”
“No,” he said. “I like you.”
“Mmm,” I hummed as I brought a hand between his cheeks, gently running the pad of my middle finger over his hole.
“God, yes,” he said.
“Never knew you were so impatient.”
“I never knew you’d tease me this much,” he said, jutting his hips upward against my hand like he was begging me to push inside.
I reached over to the lube on my nightstand and slicked my fingers, immediately returning to his ass. I pushed my finger inside him, slowly but firmly.
“Oh,” he moaned, his voice just barely a whisper, a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Thank you.”
Good lord did I just want to sink deep inside him. As I slowly slid a second finger into him I watched as my cock leaked a tiny thread of precum onto Logan’s thigh.
“You’re sure you want this?” I asked.
“I want your cock inside me more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he muttered, his voice low and resolute.
I’d been so wrong about Logan. I’d thought about what it might be like to fuck him—a lot, at this point. I’d jerked off to the idea of this moment, imagining that he’d be timid and bashful his first time. I had figured I’d need to go super slowly. I’d even prepared myself for the fact that Logan might freeze up, stop me in my tracks, and tell me the whole idea had been a mistake.
And all of that would have been okay. I was completely fine with the idea that I might not have been able to be with him at all, so long as he wasn’t pressured to do anything he didn’t want to do.
But it was as if the moment we’d gotten into bed, he’d transformed into this sexy, demanding, desperately horny version of himself. It was a side of him I’d had glimpses of before, in the brief moments where confidence struck him like lightning.
The hottest thing about it was knowing that Logan felt comfortable enough around me to tell me what he really wanted.
I fucking loved it.
It meant that he could be himself around me.
It meant that even after years and years of struggling socially, Logan was finally in a place where he could ask and demand what he wanted from me, and I couldn’t wait to give it to him. I wanted him to be able to feel this good all of the time. It was like I was watching him bloom right in front of my eyes—becoming self-assured, comfortable, and at ease.
And seeing Logan be himself was fucking hot as hell.
“Yes,” he uttered as my two fingers finally pressed all the way inside him. He was so tight but I felt him relaxing around me as I stayed steady inside him, letting him adjust. I stayed inside him as I leaned toward his head again, pressing small kisses on the back of his neck.
“Are you ready to get fucked?” I murmured.
“You know damn well I am,” he said, squeezing around my fingers.
Just then a sound came through the panes of my bedroom window, faint at first, then getting a little louder. It was the sound of voices, some sort of melody, and as they got closer, I could hear it more clearly drifting up from the street.
Don’t stop believing, hold on to that feeling…
Logan puffed out a laugh below me and I couldn’t help but start laughing, too.
“Is that Journey?” he asked.
“Drunken students,” I said. “In a few weeks, they’ll be singing Jingle Bells instead.”