She rolled her hips as our mouths met again.
I tasted her gasp as my fingers parted her and slid through the slippery wetness between her thighs.
“Fuck, you’re wet.” I stroked her from opening to clit once. Twice.
She cried out, her hips seeking friction.
“So.” I stroked. “Fucking.” Again. “Wet.” One last one that ended with a swirl and a light press of her clit. No more foreplay needed. I could thrust into her right now and she’d take my whole cock without the slightest problem—that’s how ready she was.
How did all this passion stay buttoned up all day?
“Logan!” Her fingernails bit into my biceps.
I slid one finger inside her tight heat slowly, watching her face as her lips parted, and she moaned. A second joined the first and I pumped her slowly.
She started to ride my hand.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Everything about the woman was perfect.
I used my thumb to tease her clit as I slid in and out of her with my fingers, never quite giving her what she’d need to go over the edge. If this was the one time I’d get to put my hands on her, then I was going to make this last as long as possible.
“That feels so good,” she moaned. “God, Logan. More.”
The way she said my name made me feel more powerful than I did on the ice. Fuck, I felt like a God between her thighs like this, driving her toward an orgasm that I fully controlled. If she wanted more, then I was going to give it to her.
I slid my hands free, and she protested until she realized I was tugging her pants down. Then she wholeheartedly nodded her agreement and lifted her hips to make it easier. A few seconds later, she was naked beneath me.
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
Then I put it to use.
Parting her folds with my fingers, I licked where my fingers had just stroked.
She yelled and arched, only pressing the flat of my tongue harder against her. She tasted so damn good—sweet and salt mixed into a flavor more intoxicating than liquor.
I settled between her thighs and flicked her clit with my tongue.
Her cry was sharp and needy.
I ignored the pulsing of my cock and focused on her, listening to her breath hitch, then repeating whatever made her do it. I brought her to the edge, where her thighs shook on either side of my head, then drew back and took it slower, until her head thrashed above me and my name became both a curse and a plea on her lips.
“Logan, I need you inside me,” she begged.
I locked my jaw and fought the instinct to do exactly as she asked. We weren’t even dating. As much as she said she wanted it—and her body agreed, I wasn’t going to be a regret. Fuck that. I had more respect for her than that.
But I wasn’t about to leave her request unfulfilled, either. If she wanted something from me in bed, then she’d get it.
I thrust into her tight pussy with my tongue and groaned when her walls squeezed me tight. I fucked her in the only way I’d allow myself, spearing into her again and again, drinking her down as she rocked against my face, riding my tongue with zero shame and a fuck load of need. She was exquisite, reckless in her passion and demanding her due. God, she drew me into her pleasure as if it were my own.
Her cries came higher and faster.
I replaced my tongue with two of my fingers and set my mouth to her clit as I pumped her closer to her orgasm. Her legs trembled again, and I let her have it, pressing against her clit with my tongue as I found her G-spot on her inner walls.
I pressed that small patch of nerves within her as I sucked on her clit.
She came apart, screaming my name. Over and over, she rolled through her orgasm, and I met her, stroking her onward and working my tongue so her first orgasm stuttered into a second.
She swore as that one overtook her.
I brought her down gently until I finally withdrew both my fingers and my mouth from the sweetest pussy I’d ever tasted. Was everything about the woman addictive?
“Logan.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she held out her arms to me.
I leaned into her embrace, planting soft kisses to her neck, relishing the race of her pulse against my lips. My cock demanded I take what she so willingly offered as she slid her hands in the pockets of my pants, her nails biting teasingly into my muscles.
A paper crinkled beneath the motion.
My stats.
I backed off the couch as quickly as possible, yanking my shirt over my head.
“What are you doing?” she asked, rising on her elbows.
“Leaving before I fuck you so hard that you’ll feel me when you walk for the next week.” I would do it, too. I’d take her over and over until we were both so exhausted that we couldn’t move.