Severe and without shame.
He didn’t hesitate. He pulled me on top of him until my chest was pressed to his. That was all it took for my breaths to jolt. For my heart to hammer and the blood to pound like chaos through my veins.
One touch from this man and I lit.
A needy rasp flooded from my mouth when I straddled him. The slip I wore bunched up high on my hips, and on instinct, I rubbed myself against him, his dick hard and huge where it was pressed against the thin fabric of my underwear.
Tiny pinpricks of bliss flickered. They spread like the splay of fingers around my waist and pooled low in my belly.
I whimpered a needy sound. Rocked over him again. I needed more because when it came to him, it would never be enough.
Logan curled a hand in my hair as he met me, his hips barely lifting from the mattress. He spread his other palm out over my bottom to guide me in the slow, seductive rhythm.
In the hazy, iridescent light, our bodies rolled.
Hitched and bucked. The sounds that wheezed from our mouths was close to silent, bated in the thickened, dense air.
It felt as if another chink had come loose somewhere. The reservations holding me together were steadily, quickly, resolutely breaking apart.
Soon, there would be no foundation.
Just a freefall with no chance of survival when we struck the bottom.
We’d hit it, I knew we would. But the falling felt so good.
The pleasure that built and buzzed.
The whooshing of the blood in my veins.
Logan held me by the back of the neck, our noses close to touching, though he didn’t bring me any closer. He just rocked against me again and again while he watched me with this look that I knew would do both of us in.
“Logan,” I finally whimpered. Needing more.
“What do you need, Little Star?”
“I need you.”
He shifted us so his cock was no longer against where I needed him most, but his fingers were there instead, slipping beneath the edge of my underwear.
My walls clenched around his fingers when he drove them deep.
I moaned.
Whimpered.
Rode his hand.
Harder.
Rising up on my knees and grinding back down.
His hold tightened on the back of my neck. “Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers, Aster? Wait until it’s my cock. Do you remember what that was like? How I fit you?”
This time the moan that rolled up my throat was desperation.
“Please.” My nails scratched at his chest, clawing for a way inside, while my mind raced with all the inevitabilities.
We were going to end up a broken pile of rubble.