It feels like we’ve gotten here so fast, me half-naked on his lap, but then again, it feels like it’s been too long…too long since his hands have been on me like this, too long since his mouth has peeled apart my senses.
His tongue laps over the peak of each breast and then he pulls back to survey me. I know I’m pink and flushed, and I know he likes it. He rolls his hips so that I grind down on him, and then I lean forward to kiss him. Everything before has been a lead-in to this. Our mouths touch, and it’s the last chance we have to gather our senses. Stop now or don’t stop at all.
Neither one of us tries to move away.
He keeps a grip on my waist, rocking me back and forth across his hard length. With my skirt tugged up, it’s only my knickers covering me, and I can feel him so well. The rigid outline is enough to send me over the edge, but we don’t make it there. This is only a teaser, and he won’t let me get too ahead of myself. Any time I work myself up and really start moving on him, grinding and kissing him harder, he slows us down.
Then he moves his mouth somewhere else. Down to my neck. Over my breasts. Back up to my mouth. I’m going insane. I am. I think I might cry from his wicked lips, but then his hand moves between my legs and hooks onto the edge of my panties so he can tug them aside and I fall back, breaking our kiss and setting my hands on either of his knees. I’m so exposed like this, but that’s what I want. I want him to have all the access in the world as his finger slides into me. I clench around him, and the sound he makes…I could pray at the altar of Logan Matthews. Truly. I’m lost in him as he slides his finger out and then back in, his lovely long finger and the way it drives me mad.
Let’s stay here forever.
Let’s live in this dark room and we’ll just continue on like this until we pass out from exhaustion. Then we’ll wake up and eat from that buffet and start all over again. There’s no world outside this room. Nothing.
I lock eyes with him then, and there’s a plea in my gaze.
He knows what I’m after. It’s been long enough, don’t you think? Enough of the torture. Enough of the wondering what it’ll feel like. We’ll fit together. I know we will, and if we don’t, I’ll learn, change, become whatever it is he needs, because I need him.
“Hold on,” he tells me, his voice a dark whisper compared to normal.
I do as I’m told, and he reaches down between us to unzip his jeans. It’s hard for him to maneuver with me on top of him, so he doesn’t tug them down all the way, just enough.
Enough for me to reach down and touch him, grip him in my hand and stroke up and down. I only stave off the inevitable for a few moments, a few passes of my hand up and down before I move back over him and let myself feel him between my legs. Logan’s not wearing a condom yet but tells me he has one. He’ll get it in a second, but I can’t stop myself from rocking back and forth like this. He hisses as if in pain, but aren’t we all?
The music down in the club switches to something more sensual and we’re moving with it, kissing and rocking together. I shudder as he brushes across sensitive bare skin, and then, like he’s angry with me for putting us here, he lifts me up so he can get his wallet out of the back of his jeans. He opens it and tells me to get the condom. I do as I’m told, ripping open the foil so he can do the rest. He sheaths himself and once that’s done, it’s like someone’s shot a starting pistol.
We’re fumbling together, positioning me over him. He takes his length in his hand and I lower my hips. I know it’ll be a tight fit. I know it, but I’m still taken aback when I start to sink lower on him. I gasp and he gathers me against him so we’re chest to chest.
“Go slow,” he warns, and my muscles relax a bit, taking more of him inside me.
He murmurs a curse against the shell of my ear as I continue to move down onto him, taking him deeper. The hard muscles on his chest tighten as if he’s holding himself back.
I know it’s a tough position to start with. I should be on my back on a comfy bed, but this club and this chair is what we have and I’ll be damned if we stop now.
It feels impossible to think we’ll fit together and I let my teeth scrape against his neck, conveying my pain, but it’s fleeting and the sharp bite burns away, replaced by delicious fullness.
We sit there for a moment, fused. He tugs my head back so he can look at me. His eyes flit back and forth between mine, his brown gaze trying to sear into me. He doesn’t ask, but I know what he’s after, and I lean forward to kiss him, telling him I’m okay. I’m more than okay.
Of course, there are feelings of wrongness—the fact that we’re doing this with that door right there and the club at my back. I know he’s asked everyone to stay away, but that doesn’t mean they will. That knife edge of worry only adds to the moment, though. It feels terrifying and fleeting and wrong and I don’t want him to stop once he starts to rock in and out of me. He holds me steady with one hand and tells me to lean back again so he can reach his hand down between my legs.
Oh yes.
His thumb swirls in combination with his thrusts. Every fleeting bout of pleasure from earlier comes rushing back so hard and fast that I come before I even realize it’s starting. I squeeze around him and he continues to rub me, and then it’s like the dam breaks. One orgasm isn’t enough. It’s the beginning. It’s a tantalizing promise of what I can have if only we continue like this, pumping, thrusting, harder. He knows what I need and he does it, reaching up to play with one of my breasts as we rock together. I know he’s close. I know he wants to come, but not before I do—again. I’m greedy, and he should know that now. Better he realizes exactly what he’s getting into with this relationship. His thumb returns between my legs and his pace speeds up. We’re lost, utterly. I’m probably screaming at the top of my lungs for all I know, but who cares? Nothing exists beyond these walls, remember? Just us.
His thumb swirls and swirls and my insides clench around him. I’m saying his name, letting him know how good it feels to come like this, alongside him, and then his mouth is covering mine, maybe to hush me up or maybe so he can pour his feelings into me.
“I can’t believe we’ve done this.”
They’re the first words I say once the club atmosphere returns to the forefront of my mind like a tsunami. Oh god. We’re mad!
Logan laughs and kisses my cheek. “It’s fine. Here, let me help.”
It’s bloody awkward to sort of hobble off him and grab for a handful of cocktail napkins so I can help clean myself up. He tugs off the condom and ties it so he can stuff it into a bunch of napkins and dump it in the waste bin. Then I cover it with loads more napkins while my cheeks turn into Red Hots. He tucks himself back into his trousers and then I force him to give me all the cash out of his wallet.
“I was going to leave them a tip anyway.”
“Yes, well, now they’ll have to clean up after our little sex session, so fork it over. Everything you’ve got. Poor sods. I should go try to find a mop or something.”
“We didn’t make a mess. It’s only the condom in the trash. Look, I’ll tie off the bag so they won’t even see it.”
“Still! We’re total heathens! We’ve just attacked each other!”