Page 92 of The Opposite of Romance
With my brain stuck in thoughts, I don’t even notice he’s pulled his pants down and taken his cock out. Not until he spreads my knees wide open and enters me to the fucking hilt.
“Ah,” I yelp. My mind wasn’t prepared for it, but the rest of me is ready. My pussy’s fucking dripping, crying happy tears to have him inside of me. My nipples ache with need. He somehow reads my thoughts because the next thing he does is lean down and bite into one.
Another scream tears from me. It hurts. But as soon as the pain registers in my head, it turns to pleasure. The second one gets the same treatment, and it’s no less debilitating. It short-circuits my brain, sending much needed blood to my clit.
He slides his hand down to the needy, swollen bundle. Teasing the hood with his fingers, he gives me just not quite enough.
“Clench my cock, princess. Show me how you like to be helpless underneath me.” He emphasizes his words by giving my clit a hard, hurting tug, and it pushes me over the edge. My screams echo in the air as tears appear in my eyes, my legs seizing.
“Motherfuck…” he groans, and I faintly feel the jerk of his cock inside of me, my head fuzzy with my orgasm.
His grip on my wrists turns painful as he fills me with his cum, his forehead slick with sweat. When both of our bodies finally settle, he presses his forehead to mine, releasing the hold on my hands.
Our breaths race in sync and a chuckle escapes him. An honest, boyish chuckle, one that makes me join him.
“Fuck,” he whispers, shaking his head.
Andfuck,he is right.
This was crazy, and kinky, and unlike anything I’ve ever done, but with him—it was natural. I was so high on adrenaline, but my body trusted him implicitly.
I was married for twelve years, and I couldn’t imagine trusting David like this.
Moisture pools at the corners of my eyes, but Logan dries them with his hand. His fingers are calloused, but his touch is soft like silk.
His cock exits me, and I mourn the loss. I don’t think I can move, but he doesn’t make me. He lowers to a squat and lifts me into his arms with almost no effort.
My cheek presses to his chest, no words coming out of my mouth. He lands a small kiss to my hair, and my neck prickles again. My dress is ripped, my makeup probably smeared to shit, but he holds me like I’m precious.
He walks in silence to the house and up the stairs until he reaches the tub in my bathroom. Setting me on my feet for a second, he discards the remains of my dress before turning the water on in the tub and helping me into it.
He searches my vanity before finally asking, “Where’s your makeup remover?”
“What?” I chuckle, my brain fried.
“What do you use to remove your makeup?”
I point him to my bamboo pads and the solution I use, and he sits on the edge of the tub, softly cleaning my makeup off, while the tub fills with scorching hot water.
The touch of his hands on my face is so warm, so deeplyintimate, that my heart leaps in my chest. When he’s done, he takes his own clothes off and enters the water, sitting right behind me. His hands trace my form, lathered in soap, lulling me to sleep.
My eyes snap up when I hear him gasp. “Are you hurting?”
I notice the few drops of blood floating in the water near my left foot. “I haven’t even felt it,” I respond, and he exhales a relieved breath.
Still, it doesn’t stop him from cleaning my foot and bandaging it when he lifts me from the tub and dries me thoroughly with a towel. Placing me on the bed, he brings me a glass of water. He waits for me to down the glass before placing his knees on the bed.
I expect him to lie down next to me, but he spreads my legs wide open, exposing my pussy to his heated gaze. Releasing a sigh, he lowers his head to land a long lick on my aching flesh.
I let out a whimper, my fists grabbing the sheets to hold myself in place. Tingles travel my skin as he swirls his tongue around my clit. It’s not hurried. It’s not rough. He licks me leisurely, like I’m an expensive chocolate he’s indulging in. His moans and grunts are addictive, especially when showing how much he’s enjoying me.
My body is on fire. I feel decadent and beautiful, and pleasure starts building to the point of no return. I shiver, and he soothes me with his hands on my legs. My back arches off the bed, and he places a hand on my stomach to keep me served up for him.
My head thrashes from side to side as his licks snap the last threads of my sanity. I’m so fucking sensitive, but he takes his time, making sure that he turns me into a moaning, dripping mess.
And when he does… When my brain is nowhere to be found, overpowered by the need coursing through me, he bites into my clit, making me scream.
My climax is slow and strong, traveling through me slowly, just as his licks. The little zings of pleasure seep into every cell, making me feel alive. My eyes close, the ecstasy almost too muchto handle. He licks me through it, milking every ounce of my release.
