“Ah! Baby!” he’s breathless. “Baby, yes!”

I suck him hard and he calls out, pushed to the edge. I return to his tip, swirling around it with my tongue and he’s all gone. His orgasm powers through him, making him shake and groan like I’ve never seen him do before. I swallow his sizeable load, and then suck him a few more times as the aftershocks roll through him.

Finally releasing him, I sit back on my heels and grin like the Cheshire cat. Every part of me is smug right now. So fucking smug! I’m completely thrilled by how everything has transpired, which serves to remind me that sometimes acting in the moment is far better than enacting rigid plans.

“Well, now that we’ve both been fed…” I say gleefully.

He laughs at my innuendo. “Baby, ah, that was incredible,” he sighs, relaxing against the headboard.

I clamber over him, his hands eagerly gripping my waist to pull me closer, before they travel up my body. We kiss each other ardently. Our tongues brush against one another, and though I want to make out with him — always — the combined taste of our saliva after both giving oral leaves something to be desired. It tastes disgusting, I note. All we need to do is brush our teeth…

“We should—” I begin.

“Yeah,” Logan agrees immediately, and a minute later we stand side by side brushing our teeth.

“I need to get rid of this,” Logan says afterwards, his hand gliding over his stubble.

“Can I do it?” I ask. “I promise I’ll be careful,” I add, taking a seat on the edge of the vanity, and pulling Logan between my open legs so that I can get closer to his face. However, this movement distracts him, and he looks down, surveying me hungrily. I grin at his reaction, reaching for his razor blade. “Eyes up, baby,” I tease him.

Logan goes through his usual lathering routine, and then with a dorky smile on my face, I begin shaving him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I tell him. Jerry never even let me try it.

I don’t have to be as careful as I first thought. Soon I find my rhythm, and am making long clean strokes over his face. All the while, Logan’s hands are running up and down my thighs, inside and out, his touch turning me on.

“I have a razor over your throat, Logan, now might not be a good time to distract me,” I giggle, after his hands settle over my sex.

“I trust you,” he smiles back alluringly, telling me what I happily already know. His hands continue to tease me down below, but his eyes never leave mine. There’s something very sexy about him knowing his way around, knowing all of my most sensitive spots without even having to look.

By the time I drop the razor into the sink, the job done, I am well and truly seduced. My heart is beating overtime and I can’t keep the image from his birthday card of us pressed against the window out of my mind, and I do believe I told him that it was an imminent activity…

Logan grins at me, as if knowing exactly what I’m thinking about, which I suspect he does. I run my hands over his newly smooth face before trailing them down his taut, naked body and grasping his backside firmly, bringing him even closer to me. I squeeze his cheeks, biting my bottom lip.

“Please don’t tell me that my ass needs shaving too,” he chuckles, making me laugh out loud.

“That’s not what I’m thinking about,” I say, squeezing it again.

“You’re thinking about your birthday card,” he says surely, and slowly I nod. “Well, then,” he picks me up effortlessly and before I can protest he says, “Not one word about heavy lifting, baby.”

I hastily wrap my arms around his neck, smiling against his mouth, before I kiss him. It’s a kiss that only lasts a second, however, for when he pushes me against the stone-cold window just outside the bathroom, I squeal and squirm against the glass.

“This is not what the picture looked like,” I remind him.

He smiles, “But this way I can kiss you,” he leans into me. “And I can watch you,” he says quietly.

A moment later his solid member sinks into me and I whimper into his mouth. He’s got a good point about watching, I admit to myself, immensely enjoying the tense but satisfying look that overcomes his face as he feels me from the inside. He pushes his body more firmly against mine, bucking his hips upwards so that he’s deeper than he’s ever been before. He feels phenomenal! Our mouths are open against one another, our breathing laboured, our eyes unfocussed.

“What is it about this window that makes everything feel so damn good?” I whisper.

Logan smiles again but the time for talking is over. I lunge at him, forcing my tongue against his at exactly the same moment that he starts moving his hips against mine. I forget entirely about the cold glass, all I can fathom is Logan: the taste of his fresh breath, the exquisite force that he penetrates me with, the low and airy groans of his gratification, and the strong pressure that is already beginning to build inside of me, slated for explosion.

My legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, but as he continues thrusting into me, he reaches around and unhooks them, instead pushing my knees up towards my chest. The result is that I feel him deeper still and I call out loudly and repeatedly as he picks up the pace.

“Logan,” I moan. “Don’t drop me.” If he does I’ll end up with a broken coccyx.

“Never, baby,” he pants, before screwing up his face in primal, carnal enjoyment. “Ah, Gemima,” he cries.

The feel of him, the sight of him, and the sound of him are overwhelming. Anyone of those three things would be enough to bring me to orgasm, but all three of them combined sends me to the edge of the precipice in under a minute. As we both teeter, so close to release, Logan speeds up, thrusting into me so fast, his face buried into my neck, his groans muffled, as I tilt my head back, mewling effusively.

“Baby…baby!” I cry, my voice shrill.

My legs start trembling when I hear it: that fucking ping of the elevator!

Not again, my mind screams.

Logan hears it too, instantly freezing in his actions, which leaves both of our bodies shaking profusely, protesting against the sudden stop in movement. We’re too far around the corner to be seen or to see who the intruders are, but they make themselves known quickly.

“Do you suppose they’re still asleep?” Mary-Gene says.

“They’re probably in the shower,” Rupert replies.

“The shower,” Logan pants. “What a good idea.” He releases his hold on my legs, which I’m quick to wrap around him once more, as he pulls me away from the window and, still joined, we hurry back into the bathroom, me throwing the door closed behind us.

Stopping would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it, I think. Calling it quits, and going out to say good morning to his parents would be our best option. But we do not, we cannot. Logan turns on the shower, but it’s just for noise, just for distraction. We end up where we started, me nestled on the edge of the vanity, my legs wide and Logan standing between them. There’s just one difference — he’s buried inside of me.

“We should stop,” I say to him, my breathing extremely ragged.

“Of course,” he agrees.

Neither of us makes a move to end our union, neither of us really wants it to end. Logan pulses inside of me, each infinitesimal movement pushing me that little bit closer to orgasm. So close. But my body is so full of tension, far more than yesterday when Mercy nearly sprung me, that I don’t know if I even can come anymore. Logan looks down at me impassively, and all I know is that I want to try.

My hands return to his backside and I squeeze him. Half a second later he thrusts deeper into me and I whimper in ecstasy. OK, this’ll be easier than I thought, I realise quickly.

Logan’s mouth swoops down over mine. “We’ve gotta be quiet, baby,” he breathes, and I nod, silently promising him that I’ll do the best that I can.