The orgasm keeps going and he rolls my clit. “That’s right, baby, keep calling my name.”
Oh shit, was I saying all that out loud? But screw it. I’m finally with Logan. Logan’s about to be my first.
“Logan,” I scream even louder, lifting my legs up to get as much contact with his body as I can. “Please, please,” I’m begging even before the orgasm comes all the way down. “Please, Logan. I want it all. I want you inside me. Please, I dreamed about this. I want to be with you. I want you to do it. To make me yours. Please, Logan.”
“Oh fuck, Daphne.” He presses his forehead to my breasts. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” I hear the vulnerability in his voice, the dominant man sounding suddenly conflicted. “I’m not sure if this is right, if you know what—”
Damn him. “I know what I want. Don’t tell me I don’t know what I want.” He’s stripped me bare in so many more ways than one. So for once in my life, I’m going to ask for exactly what I want. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me with your huge cock. I want you—”
“Oh,” I cry out as he shifts and impales me.
“Like this,” he breathes out, voice dark. All I can do is nod and focus on all the foreign sensations flooding my body and mind.
“Your sweet little cunt is gripping me like a vise,” he hisses, “and I’m barely an inch inside.”
There’s more to go? This isn’t it?
Maybe panic flashed on my face or something because he’s immediately soothing. “Shh, you’re all right baby. You can take me. Let yourself go. Give yourself over to me.” His voice deepens with command. “Stop thinking. Give the thinking over to me.”
I nod fervently. Yes, that’s what I want right now. I want him but I don’t want to have to make decisions. I’m so tired of making decisions. I want him to lead and I want to follow because oh, I know it’s so good to follow where he can take me.
“That’s good,” he croons, shifting his hips and pressing relentlessly further inside me. I cry out in surprise at the invasion, widening my legs and cradling them around his hips. Finally, a touch he’ll allow. I wrap my legs around him and lock my ankles around his back.
As if this drives him crazy, he grunts low and his hips piston forward, shoving the last several inches in. My chest arches up at the intrusion, thrusting our chests together, my hard, pebbled nipples rubbing against the bristling hairs that dust his chest.
“You’re inside me,” I whisper in amazement. “Logan, you’re inside me.”
“The first and the last,” he says darkly before grabbing my face and crushing his lips to mine. And then, like he has to imprint his words on my body like a solemn vow that needs a ceremony to seal them, he begins to piston in and out of me.
I don’t know how to describe it. It’s uncomfortable at first but not exactly painful. He’s so large. I cherish it. I’ve never felt more feminine. But not delicate. He’s not treating me like some little delicate piece of glass to put up on a shelf for fear of breaking.
No, I’m a woman now. Raw. A woman to be fucked. And that’s what he’s doing. He’s fucking me and…and making love to me at the same time, I think. Or maybe I’m over-romanticizing it. Maybe I’m—
“I must not be fucking you hard enough if your brain is still working so hard in there,” he says low. “I guess I’ll need to do more to distract you.”
Oh, shit. “No, Logan, I’m here with you, I swear. This is just all so—”
But he’s already pulling that amazing log between his legs out of me. I clench at the loss and feel like crying. No, I didn’t mean to ruin it. Please, I want to beg, I’ll do better next time.
Logan only flips me over on the bed, though. “Hands and knees.”
“Are you going to…punish me?” I ask, breathless. I think back to the spankings he’s given me here and there. The playtime with the roses and thorns. Do I want this to be that? But then I remember. I finally remember and my whole body relaxes.
I’ve given up the decision making. Oh thank the heavens. It’s all too exhausting. How have I even kept it up all these years?
Logan must feel the wave of relief in me and know what it means because he immediately slides a hand down my shank, rubbing my ass sweetly before landing a sharp smack, then soothing the hot sting with his hand. “That’s my good girl. Give yourself over to me. No more thinking. For this little while, turn off that beautiful mind of yours.”
Then he leans over me from behind and his breath is hot on my ear, causing wisps of hair to tuft with each word. “I take that back. You’re allowed to think about two things and only these two things. You may think of me. And you may think of your pleasure. But that is all. Am I understood?”
I nod.
“Out loud.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
Another smack of my ass. “Good girl.”
And he’s right there, hard and hot and thick at my entrance again. I gasp as he shoves back in with no preamble. As if, now that he’s taken my virginity, he can just take me whenever he wants. Now that I’m his by rights.
Oh gods, why does that thought thrill me? Him. I’m allowed to think about him. So I do. I imagine him on his knees behind me, his hands grasping my hips for leverage as he thrusts in and out. I bet his ass looks spectacular, muscular and powerful as he thrusts in—oh, he’s going deeper than ever. I didn’t know he could go so deep. Did he just nudge my cervix that time?
I thrash on the bed and bury my face in the pillow but Logan’s not having that. He puts his hand at my throat and pulls me back up. “No. Straight up on all fours.”
The gesture is so commanding and he leaves his hand there on my neck, long, thick fingers applying the slightest pressure at my pulse point. Holding my life in his hands.
My hips buck back against his length that’s impaling me. I’ve never— I didn’t even know it could be like this. On TV and in the movies, the few I’ve seen, they never—
“Ohhh,” I cry out as Logan shifts his angle of entry slightly and hits the most amazing spot inside me.
“Yes, that’s right,” he says, his voice more growling and guttural than I’ve ever heard it. “I will fuck and defile you and you will love every fucking second of it.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, clenching around him and bucking back with all my inexpert enthusiasm. Oh, oh, it feels so good, better with every filthy word that comes out of his mouth. I’m not pure here. I’m not perfect. I can be dirty and real and pornographic and celebrate every messy, glorious moment of being fucked.
He shifts his hand from my throat so that his thumb is in front of my mouth. “Suck it. Suck it like you want to suck my cock.”
Even though his cock is impaled inside me, it’s his words and suggestions that trigger a fresh flood of wetness. I eagerly suck his thumb into my mouth and he starts to thrust into me even more fervently.
“Yes, yes,” he hisses out through his teeth like he’s barely managing to contain himself. I’m doing that to him. I’m driving him crazy like that. It’s insane and only sends me higher. Especially when he demands. “Harder. Suck it like you fucking mean it!”