25. Bryn

25

brYN

I’m ready to hula hoop.

That’s both a euphemism and the truth. I didn’t change from my workout clothes. Why bother? I’m confident whatever I wear will be off in seconds.

And I know this thing with Logan isn’t about me wearing a sexy outfit to his home on a Saturday morning.

It’s about four things: Honesty. Trust. Great sex. And laughter.

Things I’m pretty sure I can have with him.

Things I didn’t set out to find in him or anyone else. But they were there, waiting to be discovered.

And this weekend feels like the precipice of a new discovery, the next path to whatever we’re becoming.

Hope rises in me as I ride up in the elevator. Hope and possibility. The doors open, and I step out, ready and wildly excited for what’s next.

Decked out in my dark-pink yoga pants, a sports bra, and a workout top, I lift my hand and rap my knuckles on his door. Anticipation whips through my body, setting my skin to tingling.

A few seconds later, I hear the click of a lock.

The door swings open.

And Logan’s dark eyes are on me, traveling down my body then back up to lock with mine.

“Hi,” he says. How is it possible for one syllable to say so much? But it does. Because of how he says it. It comes out dirty, dominant, and knowing.

He knows what we’re doing now.

I know too.

“Hi,” I say back, and there is barely a second between that word and his hand grabbing mine, the other slamming the door shut, and his body backing me up against the wall.

His lips crush against mine.

I swoon and heat up all at once.

The man wastes no time. His fingers circle my wrists, pinning them to the wall, trapping me.

His lips claim my mouth.

His kiss is urgent and hungry.

My skin sizzles, and a shudder wracks my entire body at the way he kisses me. I feel it everywhere—in my toes, in my knees, deep in my belly.

He lets go of one wrist, that hand grabbing my chin, turning my face to the side as he licks my neck. It feels spectacular.

“Oh, God,” I groan as my knees buckle, and I wish my panties would melt. “ Logan. Take me. Take me now.”

He brushes his mouth along the column of my neck, dusting kisses across the hollow of my throat, over my collarbone, up to my ear. “So, you want me to fuck you, Bryn?”

I shiver. Pleasure seizes my body. “Yes. Please. ”

His lips coast along my skin. “Did you come over just for that?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He pulls back and meets my gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Why’d you come over, then? Why’d you say yes?” His voice is commanding, needy, even.

I lick my lips. “To see you. To be with you,” I breathe.

He lets go of my wrists and slides his hands up my arms to my shoulders, gripping me. “Say it again.”

“I want to be with you,” I whisper, my body aching, my pulse spiking.

He cups my face, his tone intense. “How is it possible that I met you two weeks ago and I already need you in my life this badly?”

Trembling, I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t either,” he rasps, kissing my cheek, sucking on my jaw. “I just know I do.”

“Me too,” I say, going boneless as he licks me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.

His kisses go to my head, they go to my skin, and they send a wild, needy pulse between my legs.

But soon, he breaks our connection, tosses me over his shoulder, and carries me to his bedroom.

After he drops me on the bed, I reach for the bottom of his T-shirt and tug.

He grabs it and, in one swift move, pulls it off. I stare hungrily at his chiseled chest, his firm pecs, and the ladder of his abs. But I don’t get to linger for long because he’s stripping me with speed and finesse, yanking off my leggings, shedding my top, and jerking off my bra while I toe off my shoes and socks. His jeans come off next, then his boxers, and my mouth waters as I stare at his hard cock, thick and pulsing.

He climbs up on the bed, his eyes flaring with desire as he straddles me, then moves higher.

And higher still.

My lips part, and I breathe out hard, not knowing what’s coming but wanting it anyway.

“Push those beauties together,” he says, staring at my breasts.

A blast of heat tears through my body as I oblige, creating a warm, dark tunnel for his dick. He slides between them, and I push them closer, tighter. “Fuck, Bryn. Your tits are fantastic,” he grunts as he strokes his cock between them.

Arching my hips, I murmur, “Fuck them harder.”

The man needs no direction. He goes to town on my chest, pumping and stroking and growling.

I didn’t come here expecting this, but somehow, it’s the perfect foreplay. Like he knows what it means to me. Like he knows that I want this choice for my body to be sexy to him. I might have made this decision for me, but I relish knowing the result rocks his world too.

And he shows me with the way he thrusts and fucks and shudders.

Then he freezes, going still. His hand goes to the base of his cock, and he squeezes, his eyes locking with mine, mischief in them. “Don’t want to fire too soon.”

I smile too, laughing even while I’m insanely aroused. “Definitely don’t want that.”

“Next time, I’m going to fuck your tits till I come all over your chest.”

Heat rushes through my body. “I like the sound of that. All of it. Especially . . . next time .”

“We are going to fuck so many times, Bryn. But this time,” he says, moving down my body, grabbing my panties as he goes and sliding them off, “you need to get on your hands and knees.”

I grin wickedly. “Gladly.”

I shift around. Logan moves behind me and presses a hand to the middle of my back. “Need you lower. Arms stretched all the way out, face on the bed. Need to fuck you hard.”

Sparks radiate across my entire body as pleasure floods every cell, and my core grows wetter. “God, yes. Please.”

He moves behind me, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. I weigh my next words carefully. They speak volumes. But I trust him, so I give them voice.

“I’m on protection. And I’m negative,” I say, turning to look at him.

A tender smile spreads across his face, and he glides a gentle hand down my back. “Me too. Negative, that is. You’re the only one I’ve been with since . . .”

“Same,” I admit, finishing the sentence. “Same for me.”

“I want to feel you gripping me. Want you bare .”

I swallow roughly. “I want that too.”

He moves behind me, kneeling, spreading my cheeks, opening me. “Oh, sweetheart. Look at you. So fucking wet for me.”

I rock my hips, desperate, begging to be filled. “Please fuck me.”

He shakes his head as he lines up his cock against my wetness, rubbing the tip against me. “I’m not going to fuck you,” he says, all low and smoky.

My brow knits. “You’re not?”

“Not at all,” he says, sliding the head against me, making me moan like a wanton woman. He pushes in, and I gasp, rocking back, greedily trying to draw him in farther. “I’m going to fuck you and ,” he murmurs, pushing deeper, sliding into all my wetness as I shudder, “I’m going to make love to you.”

His words, his twin expressions of desire and adoration, send me flying. “Yes, please. I want that. Want you. Want it all.”

He bottoms out, filling me. I rock back and squeeze my eyes shut, desire overcoming me.

And he’s off, fucking me hard, ruthlessly. He’s demanding, driving deep, squeezing my ass, gripping my hips. He tugs my hair, making me yelp at the same time as I cry out from how hard he’s fucking me. He eases back, lifting a hand to swat my ass, then sinks right back inside me again.

I scream in pleasure.

He’s relentless as he fucks me savagely, pumping and thrusting, smacking and pulling and taking.

The whole time, he talks to me.

So fucking good.

You like that?

You want it harder?

I can barely move, and I love it. I can’t think, and I’m ecstatic. I don’t have to do anything but consume and be devoured.

And that’s how he fucks me. That’s how he makes love to me.

He takes me to a new realm of pleasure. His arm bands around my waist, his mouth coming down near my ear. “Can you come? Do you need my fingers, sweetheart?’

I shiver as bolts of pleasure rocket through me. In the midst of all this dirty, rough sex, this man turns tender, asking what I need. It’s the most sensual thing a man has ever done to me. Ask.

“Yes. Now. Fast,” I say, urging him on.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he says, his hand sliding between my legs, stroking and making me mindless. Stars burst behind my eyes. Pleasure swamps me and the telltale signs of an orgasm build tight in my body.

I cry out, letting him know I’m coming, and then as I do, I tell him to come on me, because that’s what I want right now. He pulls out, and seconds later, hot streams of his pleasure hit my back, and I am just lost.

I am lost in this crazy, epic pleasure as he slides a hand up my spine, spreading his release all over me.

It’s erotic and filthy, and I feel marked.

I feel like his .

Like he wants to be with me, and I want to be with him, and we’re together.

With each other.

And maybe with one other mammal. Because when I open my eyes, a fluffy black-and-white cat is on the edge of the bed, twitching her tail, staring at us.

I swear she’s smiling.