Page 112 of Bloom: Part 1

“I could be dead tomorrow, so who cares?”

“Blo…ooooom.”

To prevent him from chiding me, I lifted and slammed my ass back down on him. The sensation of being filled with spit alone was intense, heady. But I liked it. The pain. The throbbing pressure of his cock as I rode him.

“Fuck, fuck. Slow down, baby. Slow down.”

But he didn’t mean it. His hands on my hips urged me faster, and he punched up, spearing me with his cock. My ass smacked into his lap hard, the slap mixing with our heavy breaths. I took perverse satisfaction in knowing I could reduce him to this…a man who lost control, who knew he was hurting me but wanted me too much to put a stop to it.

“Oh…God.” Logan shifted us so I was back on my knees without him leaving my body. He pulled out just enough to work some spit against my hole. I hissed at his fingers rubbing around my rim.

“Do you want me to stop?” he said as he shoved his cock back inside me. “Do you?”

“No. Don’t stop. Please. I love the way you fuck my ass, Logan.” I fisted my right hand and bit my knuckles. It was stupid, but I liked this, liked that only his spit came between us. No manufactured lube. In that dark, dingy room our lives hanging by a thread, I didn’t want anything that wasn’t us to come between us.

Logan held my hips in position and ground into me. His pace was tough, even though I sensed he was holding back. His thrusts were relentless, giving me no chance to catch my breath, and my body had no choice but to open up for him.

I sobbed against my fist.

“Jesus, Bloom.” Logan inched away, but I reached a hand back to grip his hip and pull him back to me.

“Don’t you dare stop. Not until you come inside me.”

“But—”

“It’s either fuck me, or I’ll wait till you fall asleep, tie you to that bed, and ride you till my legs give out.”

“Jesus.” Logan lunged forward, the roughness of it stealing my breath. “You’re so demanding. I shouldn’t love it this much, but I do.”

“Just fuck me, Logan. Stop thinking. Fuck me like it’s the last time.”

I gasped, arching my back when he did and hit that perfect spot inside me. Every thrust sent white-hot pleasure slicing through me until I was panting and writhing beneath him.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his words tender and soothing where his pace was hard and punishing.

“You’re so good at taking my cock.”

“I wish I could see the way your hole spreads around me.”

“I swear you have the prettiest hole I’ve ever seen. I could fuck you all night.”

“I’m so proud of the way you take me inside your body.”

The words fed my craving, his voice a strained growl that was as much a part of this as the cock pushing into me. I couldn’t help responding to his praises as if they were the sweetest declarations of love. To me, they were.

“I…Lo…” I stuttered out his name, trying to find the words but failing. My mind was so clouded by pleasure, by the sensation of being utterly filled by him, words seemed futile.

“Shhh,” he whispered against my neck, pushing into me with a sharp thrust. “Don’t talk, baby. Just feel. Let me take care of your body. So fucking perfect.”

His hands were all over me, touching me. There was no possible way to feel any closer to him. My skin came alive, dancing on my bones. I tensed, the orgasm he’d been building inside me cresting.

I opened my mouth in a silent scream, the energy failing me to utter a sound. My release burst out in a series of spasms, and I convulsed hard beneath him.

“That’s it. I can’t get enough of you, Bloom.” Logan’s movements became erratic, the pace wild. My body continued to spasm around him, drawing him in deeper. With a throaty groan, he stiffened and filled me.

He collapsed onto me as we struggled to catch our breaths. His heart was pounding against my back while he wrapped his arms tightly around me, his embrace almost suffocating but in a comforting way. Logan pulled out, and a cry startled out of me.

“Fuck.”

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