Page 81 of Bloom: Part 1

Sweat pooled between us, slicking our bodies together as I pushed deeper inside him. His heat enveloped me in a tight grip that threatened to unravel me. We moved together in a slow grind, his hips rising to meet my thrusts in a sweet slide of skin against skin. He gasped out loud, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself go completely.

His surrender was the most beautiful acceptance I’d ever seen.

I laced our fingers together above his head, holding him down as I continued to love him with every inch of my body. Every thrust was slow and deliberate, making sure he felt everything about our connection. Bloom wrapped his legs around me,pulling me farther into him. His head rolled back against the towel as his cries grew louder, echoing off the tiles of the bathroom wall.

“Logan. Logan…I…I…”

I gritted my teeth against my instinct to fuck him hard. Sweat dripped down my temples as I found his lips with mine, kissing him. “Beautiful Bloom.” I pressed my face into his neck. “You’re the one who deserves to be adored. This sexy little body of yours is driving me wild.”

I lost myself in the rhythm of our bodies, the slow friction building a heat that suffused through every cell of my being. His body was a temple I worshiped diligently, mapping every inch with my hands and mouth. His noises were growing incoherent, my name interspersed with pleas that only spurred me on.

I plunged my hands beneath him and cupped his cheeks, keeping him at the perfect angle as I focused on hitting that sweet spot that made him cry out the loudest. Grunts and our labored breathing mingled. I gave him every inch of me. He stiffened beneath me, unraveling. His body arched off the floor as his release spilled between us, splattering our stomachs. His cries turned into breathy gasps as I continued to thrust in him through his climax.

“Bloom,” I groaned, my orgasm looming dangerously close. His inner walls clamping down on me in aftershocks of his climax sent me over the edge. With a final deep thrust, I let myself go, spilling into him with a grunt.

We lay there on the towel, panting, our bodies slicked with sweat and spent arousal. Carefully I pulled out of him, feeling a twinge of guilt when he winced.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Who cares?” He grinned lazily. “You continue to worship my body like that, and I will be your devout follower for the rest of my life.”

Smiling, I slid down his body, draped his legs over my shoulders, and did the thing he liked best. I lapped my cum from his ass, cleaning him and soothing him at the same time with languid strokes. He got hard again almost instantly. To be young and inexperienced. With my mouth, I drove him to the edge, catching the tip of his cock between my lips when he came again.

“You’re so good with your mouth.” Who would have thought Bloom’s contented sigh and happy smile would make my heart feel light? I liked seeing him this way, relaxed and not in a combative mode. It hit me then. I had to show him he didn’t have to be the one to fight. He had me now.

I helped him to his feet and held him when his knees gave out. He clutched my arms, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know why that happened.”

“I do. We need to give your body a break.”

“I’m fine. I still can’t believe how amazing it feels to have sex with you.”

Chuckling, I brushed a damp lock from his forehead. “That doesn’t mean we have to do it all the time. We can wait. Sometimes the wait is even worth it.”

“Logan.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you think what I did was weird?”

“It’s different.” He stiffened in my arms. “I think it’s sweet. When did you put it together?”

“A couple of weeks after we first met.”

A lot sooner than I would have thought, but what did it matter? Everything worked out fine. All I had to do was live up to the expectations he had of me and never let him down. How could I not let him down when I was lying to him about who I was?

21

BLOOM

Oh shit, had I gotten it wrong?

Since I came down the stairs to meet him in the hall, Logan hadn’t budged. Only a few seconds had passed, but the way he was staring made it feel like an eternity instead. When he’d told me we were going on a date to a fancy restaurant, I’d tried talking him into choosing somewhere less public. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass him in front of others, but he’d insisted.

Had I already screwed up by not dressing the part?

How could he look even better dressed up stuffier than usual in a dark blue-and-black tailored suit? Nothing like my outfit, which I’d been proud of a moment ago. The cheap thrift shop find—a sheer black lace top with ruffles at the end of the sleeves—and my only pair of decent black pants seemed woefully inadequate.

Oh shit. Logan was wealthy. His house, his car, his expensive clothes—everything about him screamed he had money. How had I never noticed?

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