Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Our kiss deepens. With him, it feels so effortless. There’s none of the anxiety or nerves I’d assume I would have with a man. It’s just instinct, passion. It’s because he’s my man.
I put my hands on his arms. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt, the fabric thin, letting me feel his muscles. His body feels as if it’s expanding with each breath, his muscles getting harder and bigger. He grunts and pushes his tongue against mine.
I move my tongue, too, chasing the feeling. Then he pushes right up against my sex through my tights and underwear. I might as well be naked. My clit is on fire, not a candle flame, an inferno, as he begins to rub me.
“Oh, oh,” I whimper, then bite down.
“You’re wet for me,” he groans. “You’re soaked for me, Emma.”
I look wide-eyed up at him. The firelight causes the silver flecks in his hair to shimmer. I’ll never forget how he looks right now, scorched into my mind. But what about after? What about Dad?
Sitting up, I push my lips against his again so I don’t have to think. He groans in response, moving his fingers faster against my clit. My pussy and my legs feel like they’re melting with pleasure.
It’s so sudden, so unexpected—the heat between us. I moan through the kiss. Then I can’t kiss anymore, thunder clashing in my body. My folds are soaked. My core feels tingly, waiting for his finger, his tongue, his… I swallow. Should he know? Maybe it will make him stop.
“Is something wrong?” he says.
Yes, yes, yes. I take his face in my hands and shake my head, knowing that everything is wrong, but it feels so right. “Keep going, Logan.”
“Oh, hell,” he groans as he slides his hand down my tights, beneath my underwear, finding my entrance and circling it with his finger. “You’re drenched for me. Come for me, Emma. Come and get your perfect hole even wetter for me.”
He pushes the heel of his hand against my clit as he slips inside me. I gasp and throw my arms around him as he gets steadily faster, kissing at the pleasure deep within and my clit at the same time. I try to keep my eyes on the living room, but it gets too intense.
I have to bury my face in his chest to stop myself from screaming. The orgasm is just pure heat, sweat coating every inch of me. It’s so much hotter than thinking of him was. It’s so much more primal. Wetness leaks out of me. I can feel it, the fluttering, the orgasm, wave after wave. I want to stay in this place forever.
Then Logan is growling, tugging at my dress. “S-stand up,” he says shakily, like he’s barely holding himself back.
“Logan, we…” Can’t, I try to make myself say, but then I’m doing as he says, climbing to my feet.
“What?” he asks, taking the hem of my dress.
I shake my head. He really should know that I’m a virgin. I don’t usually do this or know how to do it, but that’s crap. I follow my heart and the ache between my legs.
“We have to be quiet,” I whisper.
He nods, his lips shaping into a frown for a moment. However, once he’s pulled my dress over my head, his expression becomes complete captivation. I never knew a man could look at a woman like that, and not just any man. Logan Ice stares at me like I’m the answer to every question he’s ever had.
“Fucking. Hell.” He reaches forward and massages my breasts gently. “You’re so curvy. So perfect.”
“You like my body?” I whisper, tugging at his shirt, hoping he gets the hint. Weirdly, it would feel odd to tell him to take his top off. I don’t know why.
“I don’t like your body,” he groans, fiddling with my bra strap. Nerves try to throttle me when my breasts bounce free. I’m also conscious that we can’t stay out here long, and if I think about it, I might stop. I don’t want to stop. “Your body is goddamn perfect.”
He grunts, leans down, and starts sucking on one of my nipples while rubbing the other. I moan and pull at his shirt. Finally, he gets the hint, standing up and pulling it over his head.
“Where should I go?” I whisper.
That frown again, like he knows why I’m rushing things and we have to stop. Right now, this moment, the one that just passed, and the next… Each one is a chance we’re willfully throwing away. A chance to do the right thing, but instead, he sinks his hands into my hips, lifts me, and gently lays me down on the table next to the fire. The flames kiss my naked skin.
What would we do if Dad came out here and saw his daughter lying naked on a table with his old best friend? We should go to the bedroom, I try to say. Then Logan has his hand on my pussy again, pushing two fingers inside me, gently moving in circles that have me on the edge again, ready to come for him and melt. Is this level of lust normal?