“I was out of control. If we’d come right here, I would have fucked you. Hard. I would have taken my pleasure, and I’m not sure I would have cared about yours.” He lowered his head to my neck, licking up the skin, biting at the juncture, his teeth teasing just short of pain, making me squirm against him. “I can’t do that to you.”
“I don’t believe that. You always give me pleasure,” I objected, then whimpered as he began to trail his tongue along my collarbone and cupped my breast with his large hand, strumming the nipple.
“I was wound too tight,” he said. “It was too much. The crowd. You. Carmen. The reaction to my music. I needed an outlet. I still do.”
“Use me,” I begged, feeling desire sweep through me. I undulated against him, his cock hard and trapped between us.
“I don’t want to use you,” he protested. “You mean too much.”
I knew one thing he wouldn’t be able to resist. No matter what else he was feeling, his protectiveness for me was always paramount. He needed to care for me. I knew this with a certainty beyond belief. I slid my leg up to his hip, opening myself to him. He groaned as he curved his hand around my thigh.
“Warm me up, Logan. Fuck me. Please,” I added breathlessly. “I need you.”
I cried out as he lifted me, grasping my legs, and with one snap of his hips, slammed into me. I felt full, the angle intense, and his cock stretching me in the most delicious, aching way. He began to move—fierce, short thrusts. He covered my mouth, his lips hard and demanding. His tongue mimicked his hips, his body trapping me against the tile, his hands holding my hips tight. My nipples brushed against his rough chest hair, chafed and sensitive, his nipple ring heating in the warmth of the water. He hit my clit with every thrust, driving me wild with pleasure. He made low, guttural sounds in his throat, his chest vibrating as he took me. The steam swirled around us, the heat building. I was on fire, the cold of a short while ago long forgotten. Everything narrowed down to our bodies, moving as one, the ecstasy building between us so intense it edged on pain. I whimpered as I surrendered, my body locking down, clenching around him. I screamed into his mouth as my release rushed over me, burning and strong. I gripped his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin as my orgasm kept going, one sliding into another as he broke from my mouth, cursing and chanting my name. The grip he had on my hips tightened, and he dropped his head back, a long, satisfied groan escaping from his chest. I went limp in his arms, unable to form words, thoughts, or even hold on. He thrust twice more, then stilled, but he continued to hold me. His heartbeat was a rapid staccato in his chest, his breathing fast and harsh. Both matched mine.
For a moment, there was only the sound of the rushing water and our heavy breathing. He lifted his head and kissed me, his mouth now gentle.
“Tell me you’re all right.”
I opened one eye and peered at him. “I’m better than all right, Logan.”
He pulled from me, and I grimaced as he left my body, feeling empty. He set me on my feet and washed me, his touch tender, his voice low as he whispered unneeded apologies, mingled with kisses, words of adoration, and gentle ministrations. He cleaned himself quickly, then turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around me. He snagged another one and tucked it around his waist.
“You, ah, might want to wash your face,” he chuckled, touching my cheek. “It’s a bit…” He trailed off.
I looked in the mirror and had to giggle. My mascara was smudged under my eyes and my kiss-proof lipstick smeared on my cheek.
“I guess kiss-proof and fuck-proof are two different things,” I chuckled and reached for the makeup remover, making fast work of the mess. I rinsed the cloth and turned to Logan. “Better now that I don’t look like a drunken goth?”
He cupped my cheek and brushed his lips over my face, kissing my nose, cheeks, forehead, then pressing his lips to mine.
“I would fuck you no matter what, Lottie. You are beautiful to me every single moment of the day.” Then his voice deepened. “And it was more than just fucking.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. “Logan, it’s okay to let yourself go with me. I know I’m, ah, more to you. I like making love, making out, dancing, touching, and yes, fucking you. All of it because it’s you. Because it’s us.”
He cupped my face and kissed me, his lips gentle, his voice reverent.