His responding groan told me he was burning just like I was, and his body language told me not to stop, so I didn’t. Not until I had to. Not until I couldn’t focus on anything but his fingers dipping inside me. The way it felt when he slid them in and out. The circling of his thumb, the movement of his hand, the wetness I could feel dripping onto my panties.

I couldn’t believe it but I was going to come—like this—beneath him, with our pants on and his hands inside my panties. Oh, yes, I was going to come, right now. I didn’t do this. I hardly ever came from a man’s touch alone. It took moving mountains, hours of men trying, to make me come. Yet I was already tipping over the edge.

Sensation after delicious sensation was all I could feel. And they were coming one after the other, fast and furious. So much so that my fingernails dug into his skin as dizzying amounts of pleasure surrounded me. Logan didn’t stop. He kept the pace up and I rode his hand.

And then I completely shattered, biting my lip to stifle my cries as my clit spasmed over and over, each spark of pleasure causing me to cry out.

Logan kissed my neck and slowed his fingers as my body shuddered beneath him. When my grip on him let up, he cupped me as he had in the beginning, his palm pressed tight to my sex.

My body was limp and sated. I felt amazing, but then I made the mistake of thinking how I’d never enjoyed a man making me come like I just had. The thought caused me to freak out a little.

Was I now going to be a sex addict like my father?

I tried to catch my breath but couldn’t at first. When Logan went to kiss me, I turned my head and his mouth landed on my cheek. Mine landed in the crook of his neck. Since his eyes were closed, I’m certain he thought it was just mechanics.

With a deep inhale, I caught his scent and immediately started breathing more steadily. He calmed me without even knowing it and wanting more of him, I moved my mouth to find his. I wanted to lose myself in him again.

Even though my body was limp and languid, his lips on mine were all I needed to restoke that fire that was already burning within me. Not only did I want to feel more of what I’d just felt, I wanted Logan to feel the exact same thing. The idea of give and take was what stopped me from thinking what my mind had just been skating around.

With desperate urgency, I found his pants and unzipped them. He helped me out again by shoving them down. When he stood before me in only his black boxer briefs, my arousal escalated to an alarming level.

I needed to touch him.

There.

My fingers grazed along the outside of the soft fabric and he was long and full. I just had to see him. With a prowess I had only ever made myself exhibit in the past, I eased off those Calvin Kleins. I was doing this willingly. My sexual interest in Logan was anything but forced. In fact, I had to take a moment to admire him. The leanness of his body didn’t reflect the fullness of his cock. I wanted him.

Sex was next on the table. It was a fact. Since my limbs were no longer in a Jell-O-like state, I reached for him and stroked him up and down. He was silky soft and really hard. Logan made a noise and I looked up. As soon as our eyes collided, he dropped his mouth to my ear. His voice was tight, low, and thick with need when he whispered, “Let’s get your pants off.”

I couldn’t have wanted anything more.

He said nothing more—I was glad. I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if he had. That’s not true. I would have stayed, because that one glimpse into his eyes told me everything I needed to know. It was an odd mix of emotions I saw there—fear and lust, maybe. Whatever it was, it was enough to make me want to understand him.

Without hesitation, as soon as I stood, he moved behind me and slid my pants down. I shuddered the entire time his hands glided over my hips and down my thighs. When my pants and panties were off, he blew a warm breath in my ear and kissed my neck. I shuddered again. Something about the intimacy of the way he kissed my neck had my stomach fluttering. If I were romantic, which I am not, I’d say that although he was bold with his body, to the point of being unfaltering, he was almost tender, sweet even, with his mouth. It was that whole hot/cold, hard/soft thing I’d pegged him with last night.

Logan glanced around the room. “Follow me.” His voice was just as soft as it had been a few moments ago.

It didn’t bother me that he’d told me what to do; in a way his words had almost been posed as a question, as if he knew I wouldn’t take being ordered around well.

The space was vast but surfaces to fuck on were not. We had the couch, which could work, but it was rather narrow; we had the wall, or . . . I spotted it right away . . . we had the table, and condom in hand, that’s where he was taking me.

Both of us completely bare in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, he led me to the corner table with no hesitation. My breath grew louder with each step. When we reached our destination, I bent myself over the slick surface without daring to look at Logan. It was the position that made the most sense and I really just wanted him to fuck me already.

The heat of his body radiated behind me and I could hear his own ragged breaths. They mimicked mine. I waited for him to touch me with an anticipation that surprised me. With the sounds of our mingled breaths the only noise in the room, I placed my palms flat on the cool surface. Time seemed to take forever to pass. What was he doing? I wanted to look but didn’t at the same time.

Finally, I heard the tearing of paper, the manipulation of latex, and then his hands were on my hips, followed quickly by the warmth of his chest all over my back. The feeling rocketed though me and I felt every muscle in my body clench in need. He felt amazing on my skin. The kind of blanket I never wanted to shed.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His mouth was warm and at my ear again.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the freak-out I was certain my brain would have, but it never came. I was okay with this—with him talking to me during sex. Well, technically we weren’t having sex yet, so maybe that was why.

Gripping the edge of the table, I nodded and spread my legs wider, pressing my naked body farther back against his very ready one.

His exultant groan echoed in my ear, but then his mouth was gone. Luckily, it hadn’t gone far. His teeth began grazing my shoulder and his fingers found my clit at the same time. Twin bursts of pleasure sizzled under his touch. I bit my lip to stop from crying out.

He played with me—his fingers outlined my clit and his tongue moved across my back in slick, steady waves.

“Please.” The faintly spoken word slipped out. I’d never begged for someone to take me, but I was begging him now.

I wasn’t certain he’d heard me, but then the hand that was on my hip was gone and moments later I felt the thickness of his cock between my legs. He pushed into me painfully slowly. I contemplated taking control and slamming myself back, but his hands were on my hips, holding me in place.

With steady movements he eased in and then out again. In, then out. Giving me a little bit more. Going deeper each time. When he was completely inside me, I thrust my head back. “Please,” I repeated, “I need more.”

His low groan was at the sweet spot he’d found behind my ear and as if he wanted to make sure I got just what I wanted, he stood straight and with his hands tightly gripping my hips, he slammed into me. Hard. Slow and easy was gone. Fast and furious took over.

Again, I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out.

It felt so good.

I wanted great.

His fingers gripped me, pinched me almost, as he slammed into me. Still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted him deeper. I wanted him faster. I wanted all of him. He was holding back, I could tell. I needed to feel this. Wanted it so badly, I could taste it like I could taste the blood from my bitten lip as I licked it away.