by Drew Elyse
“Not tonight, honey,” I forced out, even as my body screamed in protest. “You’re very drunk. We can both get what we want tomorrow.”
She looked ready to strike up a protest that I knew would crack my resolve.
“Please, angel,” I half-begged. “I’m trying to be the good guy. Come lay with me. I’ll give you anything you want in the morning. Right now, you need to sleep this off.” I could hardly believe the words were leaving my mouth. In my mind, the mantra “do this for her” was on constant loop to keep myself from falling victim to the pleas of my solid dick. I could be the good guy, and damn it all I was going to prove that to her. I would be the best man I could be for her.
Somehow – the grace of God himself, perhaps – I got through to her. There was still disappointment as she lowered on the shirt, but hell, I was feeling that, too.
We settled onto the bed, Charlotte’s body immediately relaxing against mine. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how important that test of my will was. Not just for her, but for me, as well. I’d done it. I’d put her before my own desires, despite the epic case of blue balls I was well on my way to. Deep down, I knew she would always come first, but proving it to myself was something else entirely. Maybe I really could be worthy.
“You’re so good to me.” Her voice was a bit garbled against my chest, but I could just catch each word. “He never would have said no. He’d have taken advantage.” A pause as she pulled herself tighter into me was punctuated by my stilled heart. “He was good at that.”
No. This wasn’t happening. Blood pounded in my ears so violently that I thought I might burst. Every muscle in my body was so tense, that I could feel them strain down to where they connected with my bones. Never in my life had I been so all consumed by rage as I was in that moment.
Maybe I was overreacting. I had the warnings from Eli, from Alex. I’d watched her fight her way through a panic attack. I’d felt her stir awake in the middle of the night, obviously frightened by what was in her dreams. Maybe I should have expected this at some point. Maybe I should have been more prepared. But as Charlotte drifted off beside me, I knew one thing for sure: I was anything but prepared to hear those words. I highly doubted I ever could have been.
Instead, I forced deep breaths that burned like acid in and out of my lungs. Instead, I held fast to my beautiful girl and tried to fight the fury, the fear, the tears that itched in my eyes. Instead, I let my angel fall asleep beside me, knowing with a sickening clarity how deeply I loved her, and how far I would go to keep her safe and happy.
I experienced two things before I opened my eyes the next morning. First, the headache that felt like my skull was shrinking in on my brain, second that the room was permeating with the drool-inducing smell of bacon. It wasn’t until I pried my heavy eyes open that I even realized Logan wasn’t beside me. Too bad, waking up to a half-naked Logan had become my favorite part of every morning.
The ache in my muscles fought for supremacy over that in my head as I worked my way upright. The room shifted dizzyingly to my eyes, but at least it didn’t send my stomach rolling. I tried to piece together my night after Logan came to pick us up, but had more than a little trouble. It wasn’t fuzzy so much as just… gone. Alex really had gotten me way too drunk.
Just as I swung my feet off of the bed in an unsteady attempt to stand, the door opened to reveal quite possibly the most delectable sight of my life: a shirtless Logan carrying a tray of delicious smelling breakfast. Exactly which was causing my mouth to water to dangerous levels wasn’t clear.
“Good morning,” he beamed. “I guess I was just in time with this.”
Not even the most vibrant sunlight could brighten my morning like that smile.
I pushed myself back to the head of the bed and sat against the headboard. Logan situated the tray across my lap and placed a kiss on my lips that got my heart racing in that way that only he could. As delicious as it smelled, breakfast lost some of its appeal compared to the idea of devouring Logan. Focusing on the omelet in front of me instead of his abs as he settled onto the bed, I tucked in. The food was so welcome and so tasty that I couldn’t suppress my moan of appreciation.
“If I knew you would react that way, I’d have made you breakfast in bed a long time ago,” he laughed.
I blushed despite myself when he adjusted the length that had already begun to stretch his pajama pants.
“Oh God, now you’re blushing,” he groaned. “You’re killing me, babe. Moaning and blushing are a little more than I can take in the morning. Eat you breakfast before I toss it off the bed and find other ways to occupy you,” he ordered. My thighs tightened against the tingling he elicited between my legs.
While I ate, he watched with an expression that was at once adoring and predatory as he inched slowly onto my side of the bed. Wait. My side of the bed? When had I started thinking that way? When had I laid claim to half of his space?
I kept picking through my food, hoping Logan would not pick up on the direction of my thoughts, mot that he would mind. No, he was only too open to the “what’s mine is yours” arrangement. I was the hesitant one. It wasn’t that I didn’t like things the way they had become. What made me uncomfortable was that, whether he realized it or not, Logan had more power over me than anyone ever had before. As extraordinary as it felt, I still hadn’t fully shaken that twinge of fear that accompanied it.
When I looked over again, he was lazily smiling at me still. The fear didn’t matter when I looked at him. Foolish or not, I trusted Logan even with my most precious possession, my heart.
After I finished off as much of my feast as my body could hold, I moved the tray cautiously to the floor. With it safely out of the way, I would thank Logan the way I wanted before I lost my nerve.
I went to lay against his side and pressed a soft kiss to his chest.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I murmured before peppering more kisses across the warm expanse of skin. I could see the heat building in his eyes, but he remained still. I hoped he’d continue to. Anxiety ate away at me with the knowledge of what I was going to do. Old fear leered from the edges of my consciousness, trying to take control. I didn’t want to give in. I wanted to give this gift to Logan. “And thank you for getting me to bed last night.” My kisses sunk down his abdomen causing his body to coil tightly under my hands. “You are always so good to me,” I kept my voice low. “I want to be good to you.”
His breathing had been reduced to uneven pants. “You are,” he half-moaned. I skimmed my fingers lightly down his sides, tracking my descent. “Oh hell, yes,” he grunted. “You are so good to me.”
The rough ridges of his muscles had heat gathering in my body. The desire pushed the fear further from my thoughts. I embraced the sensations pulling Logan and I under. Leaning over him, I licked down the center of his stomach until I reached the thin line of hair that led down below the waist of his pants. His pelvis thrust upward towards me and my mouth watered. I wanted this, to taste him.
Forcing the trepidation back, I focused my mind entirely on the man before me. Every sensation, his taste, his scent, the luscious feel of his skin beneath my fingers, kept the demons of the past at bay. I wouldn’t let my memories meld with this moment.
When I tugged on the drawstring of his bottoms, he lifted to pull them off for me. His cock sprung free from its restraints. My stomach tightened at the sight, but not from apprehension. His rigid length had desire cascading through me, driving my onward towards my goal.
I crawled down his body until I was kneeling between his legs. As I bent down, Logan’s eyes grew wide and his hand shot out to cup my cheek.
“You don’t have to do this, baby,” he said in a voice hoarse from need.
“I want to say thank you.” I tried to keep my voice steady and hoped the distress that started taking hold again didn’t show in my eyes.
His cock twitched at my words, but his hand stayed firm. “I don’t expect anything in return. I do things for you because
I want to, to make you happy. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded. With Logan, I did know that. He would never expect anything like this from me, he’d never say it was “my job to please him,” or that I “owed him.” It was what gave me the strength to do this with him. I met his eyes, trying to assure him, but he still seemed reluctant to let me go.
“I know that, Logan. I want this, though. I want it with you,” I tried to placate him.
He held me a moment more, his eyes blazing as lust overcame his indecision. His hesitation caused the last of mine to dissipate. He would never push me, would never think of hurting me. That trust was unlike anything I’d ever known. It was exactly what I needed. Logan must have recognized the confidence he’d given me, his hand finally falling away.
Being so close to his erection, which had not slackened at all, had my heart pounding. I relished the exhilaration that overcame me as I wrapped my hand around the base. He was solid, and yet tantalizingly smooth. He was so powerful, and yet allowed me to take control. I ran my hand up and down his length and marveled as every muscle in his body contracted. The curved lines that led down his hips drew my gaze. Those muscles had driven me crazy since the day we’d met. For the first time, I gave in to their pull and traced each with lush kisses before allowing my tongue to explore. Logan’s deep groan vibrated through me.
Knowing what I was doing to him pushed me over the edge. I wanted to finally have him inside my mouth, to give him everything I’d been promising. Gripping tighter at the base, I pressed a kiss to the tip before darting my tongue out to caress the entire crown.
“Charlotte,” he hissed. The plea in his voice and tension in his jaw told me everything I needed to know.
Slowly, with my eyes locked on his face, I sucked the swollen head into my mouth, laving it with my tongue. More sounds of pleasure escaped him. His eyes tracked my lips as I took him deeper, pulling back and taking him further in each time. When his length brushed the back of my throat, I froze. Hesitation took over. I knew it was possible to go further, knew that men enjoyed it. I couldn’t do it. The memories of gagging, choking with no way to stop came back. I wasn’t ready to try.
Instead, I bobbed my head over the length I’d taken. I watched him with each pass, learning where he liked more attention, how fast he wanted me to go.
The sight of him taking his pleasure from my mouth coupled with the incredible feeling of is strong, pulsing length against my lips made me feel powerful. His slightly salty, slightly sweet, slightly musky taste was one I knew I’d never tire of. Somewhere in my constant motions, I no longer thought of going down on him as just a way to please him. I pushed on, harder, faster, milking him for not only his pleasure, but for my own as well.
I could feel him growing thicker, longer, so stiff I could hardly believe it was possible. Moments later his low groans were broken by him gasping out, “I’m going to come, baby. You need to stop.”
Stop? I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him to come just like that. I wanted to take all he had to give me.
“Baby, it’s time to stop,” he said more desperately.
I shook my head slightly around him. A roar so arousing I thought I might just combust echoed through the room just before his flesh began to pulse. He seemed to come forever, forcing me to swallow several times and relax my gag reflex to keep up. I couldn’t breathe and my jaw was beginning to ache, but the sound of Logan lost in absolute bliss kept me going. I had done that to him.
When the pulsing finally ebbed, he pulled himself from my mouth and hauled my body against his.
“That was incredible,” he puffed against my neck. “Just… absolutely… ugh. Thank you, baby.”
Where that came from, I have no idea. Charlotte had rocked my world. Even as the awe-inspiring pleasure receded from my body, I still remained adrift in the high she’d given me.
I was starting to think she might kill me.
Lying with her in the afterglow, it was all I could do not to beg for a repeat performance. There was no getting enough of her. I wasn’t even sure I could come that hard again so soon, but I sure wanted to try.
My mind was so clouded by replaying every moment that I was acting like a pig. It wasn’t until Charlotte shifted her pelvis restlessly beside me that I shot back down to Earth, remembering her needs. Her eyes held barely contained desire. She needed me to get her off. I can honestly say there has never been a job I was more excited to fulfill.
“Do you need relief, angel?” I wanted her to say it. Char needed encouragement to vocalize her desire.
She bit down on that bottom lip that could bring me to my knees. It was still swollen from the indescribable treatment she’d gifted me. That sweet blush spread across her face and she nodded. Oh no, a nod wasn’t going to do it. She had found the words to tell me she’d wanted to please me; I wanted her to do the same for herself.
“You have to say it.”
My fingers tickled down her back before returning upward, towing the hem of my t-shirt that she wore with them. I teased along the edge of her panties, trying to coax her past her insecurities.
“Please,” she moaned. That pleading voice nearly had me giving in.
“Please, what?”
“Logan,” she groaned in frustration. “Please, touch me. Please.”
Close. So close.
“I am touching you,” I taunted.
“Please,” she repeated, sounding more desperate than I’d heard her. “Lower, Logan.”
I dropped my hand to her upper thigh, but didn’t stray high enough to give her any relief.
“Here, baby?”
“Ugh!” Her frustration only had me growing hard.
“Tell me,” I demanded again.
Suddenly her hand was wrapping around my wrist, pulling it up the short distance to where the wetness could be felt through her panties.
“Here,” she moaned. “Touch me here. Make me come.”
Hell, yes. That, I could do.
While Charlotte showered, I cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. With the high of our orgasms fading from me, I was fraught with tension again over the things Charlotte had said the night before. I wanted to understand what she was always hiding, where that fear in her eyes came from. I wanted her to let me in. No, I needed her to. Love is like that. It may have still been a shock to my system, but I knew I was in love with her all the same. That love demanded that I have all of Charlotte, including her past. Like some primal instinct, I was driven to possess every part of her.
The sound of glass shattering stopped me in my tracks.
“Char?” I called. She probably just knocked something over, I told myself, but it didn’t slow my racing pulse.
When I got nothing back, I started towards her room.
“Baby, you okay in there?”
Still nothing.
Pushing the door open felt ominous somehow. Like that scene in a low budget horror movie where the audience knows there an ax-wielding murder on the other side, but the fool on screen slowly enters anyway.
What I found was no Hollywood horror scene, though. In fact, there was nothing horrific in my sights at all. Just Charlotte’s room exactly as it had been since the day she finished unpacking. Everything was where it belonged. What was out of place, though, was the unusually strong scent of Charlotte’s perfume in the air.
I turned to look into the attached bathroom. The first thing I saw through the open door was the shattered glass and the small puddle of liquid on the floor, the fractured remains of her perfume bottle. That explained the sound and the smell. What it didn’t explain was Charlotte’s silence or the way she stayed completely still a few feet away. It certainly didn’t explain the unadulterated fear I could see in her eyes as I moved closer. I’d seen that look once before, right before she rushed away to hide in Eli’s bathroom.
“Charlotte, are you okay?” I hedged gently.
She showed no indication that she’d heard me at all. That sent my nerves skyrocketing
.
Cupping her cheeks in my hands, I forced her gaze up to mine. It was as if she wasn’t even looking at me. There was terror in her eyes, but not even the slightest glimmer of recognition. I realized in that moment that this was worse than it had been before, so much worse.
“Charlotte, look at me,” I commanded. “I’m right here, honey. Everything is okay.”
Nothing but dead eyes met me in response. I felt sick to my stomach. Desperation took over. I shook her, gently at first and then more forcefully, hoping for any response at all. Her stoicism ratcheted up my fear until I could only think of one option. Moving behind her, I turned the shower back on before hauling her taut body into my arms, taking her under the relentless spray.
The spark of life was almost immediate.
“Logan?” she sputtered, the panic just barely receding from her eyes.
“It’s okay, angel. I have you. You’re safe.”
Her clothes were quickly soaked through as the demons continued to battle beneath the surface. I wanted to kiss her, to fill her with the same serenity she gifted me with every touch, but I was afraid. If she was still too deep in her nightmares and my kiss became a part of that, it would shatter me. I couldn’t handle if she pulled away from me in fear. No, there was too much as stake to risk kissing her, but I had to find a way to comfort her. I settled for running my fingers through her increasingly wet hair, lightly massaging her scalp they way she liked me to while she was falling asleep.
“Focus on me, Charlotte. Focus on my voice, my touch.”
Her eyes zeroed in on mine at last. My voice was getting through. It gave me an idea. Maybe it was foolish, but it was a straw to cling to and I’d take it. Keeping my eyes on hers, I softly sang “Make You Feel My Love.” The song had brought her to me once; maybe it could work its magic again.
And it did.
Just a few lines and I had her back.
Those brown eyes I adored lost their frightened fog and stared clearly at mine again.
