Page 80 of We Were Something
Fuckit feels so good. Sofuckinggood.
“I want you inside me, too,” I tell him, my response delayed but no less true. “I want to feel this big dick slamming into me, pressing hot and hard and rough inside until I tell you it’s too much.”
He groans deeply at the vision I’ve placed in his mind, and I shift my weight just slightly, feeling the head of him notch against my center.
Like last night, we’re so close, our bodies slick with sweat, the close quarters of this cabin creating a sticky humidity that turns rubbing against each other into the sweetest torture.
I stay right there, taunting us both, the head of his cock gently rubbing around my entrance.
“Fuck me, Logan,” I whisper, not ashamed to resort to begging as my hands rub against his strong arms and chest. “Please. I’m so ready for this with you. To feel your cock inside of me, thrusting in until I can’t…”
And then Logan moves his hands to my hips and shoves me down, his cock surging into me, impaling me in one fluid motion that has all the breath leaving my lungs. My fingernails dig into his chest as I grasp for anything that will anchor me.
“Oh my god,” I cry out, tossing my head back at the sheer bliss of finally having him inside me, at the way he has speared into me at a depth I didn’t know could be reached, spreading my tender folds to a point that’s justbarelypast my limits. “Fuck,yes, Logan. Fuck me.”
He tosses his head back, his eyes watching me with a kind of glazed-over lust that tells me he’s lost to the pleasure of our connection. His hands grip my hips, and he lifts me up and slams me back down. Then he does it again, my toes curling at not just the way it feels inside, but also at the strength and dominance he’s exuding as he controls my body.
He does this over and over and over again, battering into me with a kind of force and intensity I’ve not felt before, fucking me soundly. His steady pacing outmatches what my muscles are capable of, and I eventually give up trying to meet his thrusts, instead letting him take full control.
“I’m gonna come soon,” I whisper, my words falling from my lips almost in shock, the realization hitting me that I’m going to come just from the steady stroke of him inside of me.
Logan groans, his eyes dropping down to watch as he fucks into my pussy.
That’s when I feel the warm slow spread of pleasure begin at the very heart of me, and I cry out, my orgasm rushing through me from head to toe and shattering every inch of me.
He returns his gaze to mine, swiveling his hips so the thick patch of hair at the base of his cock rubs against my clit, sending sweet shudders through me as I fall apart astride him.
When my body begins to slump over, exhausted and spent, Logan rolls me over so he’s on top and continues to thrust into me, his muscles tensed and bulging, sweat on his brow as he searches for his own release. Slamming into me over and over until he finds it, pulling out and spilling on my belly, his eyes tightly shut and his mouth open as relief rushes through him.
He opens his eyes and looks at me for a long minute as he catches his breath, and then he collapses on top of me, careful to brace himself so he doesn’t give me his full weight.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back, stroking the nape of his neck and unable to hide the smile growing on my face.
My legs wrap around his waist, enjoying the feeling of the two of us pressed together in the wake of the most raw and intimate moment of my life.
We lie there for a while, just holding each other, and I can honestly say it’s the first time I’ve felt a connection like this with a man after having sex for the first time. I know I scoffed at Lennon when she told me slowing down might be the key to something happening between me and Logan, but clearly she was right.
And being patient and only doing this with him when he was ready—that felt right, too.
I doubt I ever would have said that about any other man I’ve been with, but it’s true for Logan. It’s true for us, for the creation of this thing that’s happening between us.
Eventually, Logan rolls off of me, his eyes still glassy as he looks at me, a softness in his expression that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
I normally have a million things on my mind at any point in the day, and the post-sex haze is no different. But for the first time, I just feel like I can fall right back asleep with a small smile on my face, my brain blissfully empty as I close my eyes and tuck my body into Logan’s.
“When I bought this boat, I always assumed it would be a great place to have sex,” Logan says, pressing a kiss against my forehead and shifting his arm to wrap around me. “But Jen didn’t like to have sex outside of our bed. Even when we’d travel for vacation or holidays, nothing.”
My eyes crack open and I blink a few times.
I might be a girl who is down to talk about whatever, but it seems a little…I don’t know…tacky to talk about his ex when his cum is still sticky on my stomach.
Unaware of my discomfort, Logan chuckles.
“Apparently this boat wasn’t made for a wife,” he continues. “It was made for a post-divorce fling.”
My body, which has been spread across the bed like molasses, goes rigid at his words, the previously warm and gooey feelings melting away and quickly replaced by an icy feeling colder than the water of the Pacific.
