At the first touch of her hand on my cock, I lift her legs swiftly up to straddle me and lay her down on the bed underneath me. She’s pulling my hips desperately toward her, and I pull away only long enough to pull her underwear off of her legs. I push the hem of her dress back up the tops of her thighs and take in the sight of her sex for the first time in what feels like an eternity. She needs no coaxing to spread her legs wide for me, and when she does I can see the slick, pink folds of skin ready for me to take. I want to taste her, smell her scent, plunge my fingers within her, but my cock wants to be buried deep inside her far more.
Her hands are back on my hips pulling me into her, and I let her. I know this is going to hurt her, but I also know it has to. I use the head of my engorged cock to part her lips and nudge against her opening, and with one final look to her eyes for approval I thrust to my hilt inside her tight sheath. She cries out in pain, but holds me tight to her body. I can feel her pussy tighten and clench around me. I ease from her, letting the head of my cock linger teasingly at her entry before plunging into her once again, and as I claim her pussy over and over her moaning and cries intensify. Her tight passage is contracting around me, trying desperately to keep me inside her, and when her body finally explodes in orgasm I let myself come powerfully, too. I withdraw from her quickly before making the mistake of losing myself within her again. Instead, my cum spurts out across the bunched up skirt of her dress. She lets her head fall back in repletion as I lay my head on her chest. Our lovemaking was fast, hard, and desperate—everything it needed to be after so long apart.
Once our breathing has slowed, I sit her up and unzip the back of her dress, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor; Sara would definitely not approve of my treatment of Rowan’s little black dress. I lie next to her on the bed and gaze down at her naked body. The scars from her surgery are still red and knotted but fully healed. The bruises that were so evident and difficult to look at are now gone, and her alabaster skin is once more silken and smooth. She is finally mine again, and I will never let her go.
I wake to his mouth on the back of my neck as it works its way down to my shoulders. I roll to my back and gaze up at him in the moonlight filtering through the bedroom windows. He’s beautiful, and he’s mine. I get to keep him, and I will never let him go. He asks how I’m feeling, as if making love is tantamount to being injured. I know he’s only concerned, and it melts my heart to see the worry in his eyes, but as I assure him I’m fine and only the slightest bit sore, he relaxes measurably. With my reassurance given, he makes his way down my chest, stopping to torment my nipples before quickly turning on the bedside lamp and moving between my legs. He pushes my legs open wide and parts the lips of my tender vagina. He studies me for many moments before leaning his mouth to my waiting sex. The touch of his warm, wet tongue soothes the raw, sensitive skin instantly, and he starts to lick every last inch of my flesh.
I watch him, entranced by his attention, and his eyes linger on mine as his tongue searches out my clit, and finding it he pulls it between his lips. I moan loudly, and at my obvious arousal he reaches up with his fingers and slides one long finger deep inside of me. He pulls his mouth away from me, regarding my face as he starts thrusting, coating his finger with my wetness. He pulls his finger from me completely and trails it up to my tight and sensitized nub. There he strokes and massages the most powerful nerve endings in my body with his finger, finally pinching my clit gently between two fingers as electricity shoots through my body.
He returns his mouth to my sex, sucking and pulling my clit back into his mouth. The suction is intense, and I melt at the sound of his wet laving on the most incredibly sensitive part of my body. As I come, loudly, my heels dig into the bed, and Logan grasps the back of my thighs at the junction of my bottom, pinning me in place as he continues to suck deeply and lick intensely through my orgasm. I lie motionless, panting as he crawls back up my body. He kisses my mouth softly—my scent on his lips.
As he reaches up to my chin with his hand, he pulls my bottom lip down and whispers, “Time to open up for me.”
Mmmm. I look to his eyes in anticipation as he pulls himself to his knees. He places one foot across my body above my shoulder in much the same position he’s had me in before. And with his hand on his penis, he leans forward, guiding himself to my waiting mouth and touching my lips with the head of his cock. And as the head passes over my lips, he sucks in a deep breath. I lean forward, pulling him deep into my mouth, and he starts thrusting with an even and controlled movement. I reach up to the cheeks of his firm bottom, pulling him to me, and he grasps the headboard to keep himself from falling into me. As he thrusts, I lean in to take more of him, and soon his breath is coming in ragged gasps. When he comes, he shoots his warm salty liquid into my mouth, filling it with his taste. I continue to suck his cock as his thrusting slows and eventually stops. Finally finished with my mouth, he slowly pulls himself from me, letting the head linger on my lips as I lick and suck it clean. His eyes close and he gives a deep sigh as I release him completely. He smiles down at me gently before collapsing at my side and pulling me against his body.
What most people consider foreplay was how we made love for the better part of a year, and we do this so well together. I’ve needed the taste of him on my tongue, and I’ve needed the touch of his tongue on my most intimate parts. This is how we found intimacy when making love wasn’t possible, and complete in one another we drift off to sleep. I am complete. Not just satiated and relieved of my need; I’m complete. I have everything I need, and the promise of more to come. He belongs to me now.
Chapter 31
When I wake it is morning, and sunlight is filtering in through the windows. I panic for a moment when I realize he’s gone, thinking perhaps it was all a dream. But as my eyes take in these new surroundings, I’m comforted by how much Logan’s imprint is everywhere. The sheets smell of him, his clothes from the night before are lying over the nearby chair, and his furniture is all here. I can smell coffee brewing somewhere in this strange new house, and it beckons me as only coffee can. As I sit up, I realize my dress is no longer on the floor, and I’ve been left with nothing to put on. Fortunately, Logan’s clothes are already put away in the chest of drawers, and I grab a T-shirt, pulling it over my head.
As I look around at the room, I find it is large with the beautiful, thick, old woodwork of the time period. There is a bank of four windows overlooking the front yard that is shaded in two huge oak trees. The bed sits along the back wall of the room facing the front windows. The headboard is situated between two dormer windows that look out over the back yard, which I now see is also surrounded by the same black iron fence. It is large and well manicured with a paving stone patio. The walls are a warm tan color and empty at this point of any artwork. There is a connected bathroom that includes a soaker tub, a separate shower, and a double sink as well. The bathroom has obviously been renovated, but appropriate small hexagonal tiles were used on the floor, and there is a perfect subway tile on the walls of the shower and tub. I appraise myself in the mirror before running a comb through my hair.