Somehow I manage to make it to my room, Logan following so close behind me that his muscled chest and thick erection never break contact from my back.
He catches me before I crawl onto the bed and takes my mouth with his. So hot I feel like I'm being branded. Like when he finally stops fucking my mouth with his tongue, my lips will be stamped with his name.
I want that. I kiss him back furiously and when I feel his fingers twisting in the elastic over my hips, it doesn't even phase me when it gives way in his hands.
Then I'm on my back and Logan is between my legs.
His button down shirt is open all the way and I'm not sure when he left his pants behind but when I lift my head to look down at him I get a nice view of his ass covered in black boxer briefs. The weave of his Oxford shirt stretched across his back as his arms wrap under my thighs, the way the coarse, white fabric crumples to reveal a strip of tanned flesh, then the black cotton briefs stretched over the hard contours of his glutes and down his thick thighs, every inch of this man is power and strength.
I want to reach out and run my hand down his back, but he's got those arms locked around me, giving me little choice but to lay back and let his mouth work against my sex.
He's freshly shaven today and the smooth skin of his cheeks is a new sensation against the inside of my thighs. I miss the friction of his beard but the feel of his skin against mine is delicious. Warm and smooth as I feel him move between my legs while he drags his tongue between my swollen folds and over my hardened clit in a series of slow, torturous movements.
I try to hook my heels over his back so I can force his mouth harder against me, but he has a tight hold on me with his muscular arms wrapped around my thighs so he can keep me pinned exactly where he wants me.
His tongue draws down my seam and delves inside me, feeling so good I can't help but moan.
When did I start making noise in bed? Seriously? I've never been able to really let go and I didn't even know it till Logan. Something about this man makes me forget myself. I forget to be self-conscious, forget to worry about whether I look fat when the lights are on or if my boobs aren't sexy when they sink into my armpits on my back or--
I arch my back and squirm in his arms, reaching down to grasp at his hair even though it's too short to get a good grip on, from far away I feel the sensation building like thunder rolling through me.
Logan's hand joins his mouth. I feel two fingers slide into me even as I feel the pressure building up to that perfect, impossible tension and I feel my walls immediately clench down on them.
"That's it," I hear his dark timbre vibrate against my clit, "tell me you want to come."
My hands clutch desperately at the sheets beside me. His hand goes statue still with those strong, capable fingers still poised against my g-spot and the control he has in this moment is maddening. The control he has over me at this moment, it's enough to make me whimper.
"Kendra," he whispers, letting his breath warm my aching flesh. He tightens his hold on my body with the arm that remains wrapped around my hips so my attempts to finish what he's suddenly decided to put on pause are futile.
I swear I hear him laugh, just a low chuckle under his breath, "All you have to do is ask for it."
I feel his fingers press into that sensitive area along the front of my insides just slightly, just enough to make it clear that he's in control right now-- and I am so clearly not.
"Please," I moan, feeling a little stupid and a lot frustrated.
"Please what?" He drags his tongue over my clit, pushing all the air out of my lungs, making me forget stupid and remember how bad I need to get off.
"Please make me come," I feel less stupid now, more desperate.
He does that thing with his tongue, just enough to keep me balanced on the edge and panting, "Hmm," he makes a thoughtful sound, letting the hum vibrate through me in a way that makes me think I'm going to explode, "OK, but first you have to promise me something," he combines his tongue with a stroke of his fingers inside me.
I'm not even sure I can make words anymore, I may have already sustained permanent brain damage from the fever heating my blood, but whatever I have to do to make him let me come is exactly what I'm prepared to do.
"Anything," I whine.
"Good," he purrs, "promise you'll never try to leave me again."
"OK, I promise, Logan, anything, just for fuck sake stop killing me!"
At least, I think that's what I say. I may also be slobbering a little with tears pooling in the corners of my eyes and I might be just babbling "Ohgodpleasemakemefuckingcomealready" on a continuous loop.
I think I hear him groan, or maybe it's another laugh, but his fingers begin to stroke inside me, and his mouth clasps down over my clit as his tongue flicks across it in time with the strokes of his hand till I'm riding his face and coming in hard, wet, frantic spasms.
Logan
I know she means it, too. Whatever reasons Kendra has for trying not to get caught up in this thing that's getting started between us went out the door yesterday. I just want to tease her, take my time bringing her up and holding her there on the edge. I like watching her hover on the brink like this, showing her how well I know her body already. Proving that she belongs to me.
I want her to know that it's never going to be this good with anyone else.
"Just for me, Baby," I whisper against her as I drink down her climax, letting my fingers slip from her body and dragging my tongue through her quivering folds one last time, "you only come for me from now on."
Kendra's limp under me, a fine sheen of sweat adding a hint of saltiness to her skin as I move my way up her body.
Her stomach is smooth and flat and as my mouth makes its way across her abdomen to her navel I'm overwhelmed by the thought of how sexy she'd be pregnant. The idea of feeling her middle rounded with my child is enough to send my dick kicking in anticipation of being inside her.
I run my hands over her and groan into her skin, fighting the desire to skip the condom. We've had this talk, I know she's not on anything right now. If I come inside her, there's a good chance of getting her pregnant.
The thought should not be turning me on as much as it is. The thought of having Kendra bound to me, of us being tied to each other that way has my balls tight and aching to fill her with my seed.
When I tear myself away from her smooth stomach and move my mouth to her tits, I picture them swollen with milk. I think of the gentle way I'd have to handle them when they're tender and full and it's damn near enough to bring tears to my eyes.
By the time I have my mouth on hers again it takes more control than I thought I had in me not to thrust into her in one, quick, raw, stroke.
I pull myself from her fevered lips, ready to reach down for the pants that I left pooled on the floor beside her bed.
"You don't have to," Kendra's arms wrap around mine, tugging on me insistently as if she had the strength to force me to stay in place. Her legs widen and her hips roll, her movements cause my body to settle into place against hers, poising the slick tip of my cock at her hot little door. "I went back on birth control."
My throat works in a hard gulp, fighting every instinct to accept her obvious invitation and slide into her despite knowing better.
I stay frozen in position, feeling the the heat of her body, the wetness between her legs that tells me how ready for me she is, how much she needs me, but I shake my head and manage to find my voice, "Not long enough though, we should still use something."
Kendra's smile is pure sin and delight as her nails rake down my back and dig into my ass. The only reason she doesn't succeed in pulling me inside her is because I outweigh her and she can't budge me, but I swear if she pulls that move again-- all bets are off.
"I got the shot, right after my last period," she wiggles and I don't have the will power to keep her from pressing herself over the throbbing head of my cock, "we're good to go for at least 3 months."
I don't need to hear
it again. My jaw drops open and I hold my breath as I let her velvet heat envelop my shaft in slow motion.
We're skin to skin and the sensation is so intense I have to hold Kendra's hips in place while I work my way back slightly before I trust myself to go further, deeper.
My fingers tighten on her flesh as I push all the way in, only stopping when our bodies run out of space to give each other.
I have to wait. I have to catch my breath and force myself to calm down. To think about something other than the feeling of Kendra's walls clenched around my cock.
Something other than how hot she is, how smooth she is, how wet she is.
How I can feel every bit of her and how her hands are pulling at my hips as though there was any room inside her left for me to fill.
I catch her eyes and take her lips gently with mine.
"This feels...." she whispers.
"So right," I finish for her. I'm not sure those are the words she was going to say, but they're the ones that I'm thinking. The only ones that fit.
Kendra smiles at me and her eyes flutter closed slowly, like she's fighting to keep them open, and then her mouth pops open in a little O and her hips move against mine, "Logan," she coos, "Please Baby," her hips rock under me and I know the moment of simply enjoying being joined together is about to break apart by our need for one another, "It's too good, I need you to fuck me."
Something about the way she looks as she says it, her hair scattered around her and her face flushed and yearning, undoes me.
I pull back, savoring the sensation of her sheath along my bare cock as I pull away from her just long enough to give me space to thrust back inside her again.
Her hips meet mine with each stroke, Her knees wide outside of mine and her heels in the mattress while her hands grip tight in my ass, pulling me into her roughly each time I thrust.
I can feel myself getting close but I want Kendra to go first. I need to know what her tight little cunt feels like when it's clamped down on my naked cock while she comes. I press my thumb over her hardened clit and add the friction that will drive her out of control.
The feeling of her tightening up on me, her walls constricting and her moans turning to screams as she comes all over my cock has me so close to spilling that I'm not sure I'm going to be able to ride out her orgasm to the end.
I feel my balls tighten and then I'm pounding into her, silently counting the days since the last time I was inside her. She could be wrong, the timing could be all off, we might not be in the safe zone for her birth control yet.
Instead of slowing me down, the thought makes me erupt, pouring cum into her as her pussy spasms in a series of insane movements that milk the seed from my body till finally, there's nothing left to give her.
Kendra
"So are you and my dad dating now?" Mariah asks while she helps me prepare the surgical implements for the autoclave.
I shrug. "Yeah, I think so," I tell her.
It's only been a week but it's been a week of laughing and talking and discovering each other in ways other than being naked. Not that there hasn't been plenty of that too.
Mariah is thrilled. She confessed that she'd been trying to figure out how to get her dad to meet me since the first week she worked with me.
When he'd told her he'd met someone-- that night I ditched his invite to come over and meet his daughter-- she said she'd been "pretty butt-hurt" that he'd been seeing someone and hadn't told her, but mostly she was upset because she really thought I was "perfect" for her dad.
Now that it turns out she was right, she hasn't let either of us forget it.
It only gets annoying after the first 70 times she says it each day.
"So, is Dad your boyfriend now?" She seals scalpels into the little pouches.
"Uhh... yeah?" Do 30 year old women have boyfriends? I laugh. Who cares? Maybe they don't, but I think I do.
I have a boyfriend. I laugh again. OK. I giggle. Like a 14 year old. Because-- as Mariah would say, "ohmygodIhaveaboyfriend!"
"Are you going to marry him?"
Well now, didn't that just take the air right out of my glee. It's not the idea of marrying Logan that sobers me, it's the way Mariah says it. Her tone has a hard edge behind it that makes the question feel much more serious than I thought we were being.
"Oh," I take the pile of sealed tools that she's stacked on the table and set them in trays to be sterilized, "I don't think we're ready to discuss that yet."
Honestly, I'm not sure what she wants me to say. I feel a tension rolling off Mariah that I wouldn't have thought she was capable of.
I can tell the question is important to her, I'm just not sure what the right answer is yet.
She heaves a dramatic sigh and launches her eyes into the back of her head, blowing her bangs off her forehead, "But you do love him, right?"
At this point, I'm looking around the back room for a job to give her that will let me escape back to the kennels to check on the animals.
"Mariah, your dad and I have been dating for a week," I rarely have to use my grown up voice with her but I feel like this might be something she doesn't quite get.
"Duh, no. You've been dating for like," she squints her eyes and counts on her fingers, "6 weeks."
I raise my eyebrows in surprise, "6 weeks? How do you figure?"
The eyes roll again and she counts the weeks off on her fingers, "You met Dad at that place he plays the guitar when I'm not at his house. Right after the carnival." She wiggles a finger, "then I was at Dad's," she wiggles the next finger, "then I was at Mom's," another finger, "then Dad's and that's when I made him shave-- oh my God, Kendra! I can't believe you like it when he lets his face get all furry!-- and then you guys finally stopped dicking around--"
Mariah's eyes pop wide open and her hands fly over her mouth as she stares at me and waits for me to scold her.
"Did you just say we were 'dicking around?'" I'm just a little too mortified at her for calling me out to start laughing right away.
Her head bobs up and down and then she pulls her hands away to reveal a toothy grin, "Please don't tell Dad I said that," she pleads.
"I can't believe you just said that." Now I'm laughing, still mortified, but laughing.
"Well it's true," she shrugs, "otherwise you would have come over for dinner and I would've known who you were and I wouldn't have had to trick Dad into coming inside to get me so I could set you up. But you were together, it totally still counts. 6 weeks. That's more than enough time to know if you love somebody."
"How long do you think it takes to know when you love someone?" She sounds so sure of herself, I have to know her philosophy.
Mariah looks at me for a long minute and I realize I'm getting a look at smart, almost-grown-up Mariah. "Some times you know you love someone before you ever even meet them," she tells me wisely, "Sometimes it's love at first sight, or something else. It's not a matter of when it happens, it's a matter of when you're willing to admit it to yourself."
The kid shrugs like what she just said wasn't pure Zen master material and waltzes out of the back room, leaving me to set the timer on the autoclave and absorb what she said.
I get the back room set up so we're all ready for Monday while I mull it over.
6 weeks. Is that really long enough to know whether or not you love someone?
Alone in my office, I sit down at the computer to log in the day's final notes while Mariah helps Lilly out in the front.
I know some people believe in love at first sight. I think back to the first time I saw Logan. The very first time, manning the pizza oven for Mariah's 8th grade class carnival while his brother, Paul, was taking break.
He was handsome. And sweaty. I remember shutting down my immediate reaction to him. No point in getting my hopes up because he probably wasn't available.
No. I can't say it was love at first sight.
It took us a few days of catching up on getting to know each other before I realized he was also the guy I
saw at the restaurant that day.
"So you're an insurance salesman?" I think back on our conversation last weekend.
Once we remembered each other from the carnival, I was curious about the mobile pizza oven business-- it turns out to be his brother's business. Paul is retired military at 41 and now he drags the pizza trailer to farmer's markets, Renaissance faires, and middle school carnivals when he gets tired of fishing and hiking apparently.
Logan was just there to help out that day for Mariah.
"Insurance agent," He corrected.
After Mariah's mom kicked him out, he realized how right she'd been. He hadn't shouldered near as much of the responsibility of having a child and a wife at such a young age. While Mariah's mother had accepted that she needed to grow up early and shoulder the responsibility of being a wife and a mom, Logan had thought of it more as playing house.
He had a wife at home that he thought of more as getting to live with his girlfriend. He had a little girl that he loved, but thought of more as a pet at that time. He'd been working full time and he thought that he was doing pretty well since none of his buddies could find full time hours, but he was driving a delivery truck for an appliance store for minimum wage with no insurance for him or his family and no opportunity to advance the job into anything better.
When he turned 21, he wanted to spend his weekends at the bar partying with his bros. None of his buddies had wives or kids to take care of, so Logan thought that's what men did. Hang out and drink.
Till Mariah's mom set him straight. Packed his shit, kicked him out, and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not acting like a real man.
He lucked out and got offered a job by an insurance agent that paid for him to get his license. Then he worked his way up his own agency.
"Agent? So you don't sell insurance?"
"Well, not directly anymore, I have minions that do that for me now."
"OK, insurance agent and evil genius."
A Real Keeper: Arranged Marriage Romance Page 7
