by S. H. Kolee
I tried to take more of him into my mouth, but I couldn’t stop gagging a little every time the head of his shaft hit the back of my throat.
“It’s okay,” Logan rasped, obviously finding it hard to talk. “Don’t hurt yourself. This feels incredible as it is.”
Regardless of his words, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more of him and I wanted to feel like I belonged to him. I grabbed one of his hands and guided it to the back of my head.
“Help me. Push my head down.”
Despite the harsh expression of desire on his face, I saw a flicker of concern in Logan’s eyes. “Are you sure? You don’t have to. This is more than enough.”
But it wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to feel wholly consumed by him.
“I’m sure. I’ll grab your hand if it gets to be too much. Otherwise, don’t stop. I want you to fuck my mouth.”
Logan groaned and put both of his hands on the back of my head, gathering my hair gently. He guided me down his shaft, pausing when he hit the back of my throat and I made a gagging sound. I gripped his thighs, urging him to continue. He pushed a little more, and I felt the head of his shaft enter my throat. It was a tight sensation but soon he was pulling out again. He repeated the movement, each time pushing in a little further. My throat muscles began to relax and it became a little easier, although I still had to suppress the instinct to gag. I found myself getting highly aroused as he quickened the pace, going in deeper and deeper with each stroke. Still, I could feel him holding back.
“Harder,” I demanded after he pulled back on a thrust. “Fuck my throat until you come in my mouth.”
My words seemed to snap his self-control. His grip on my hair became much tighter and he pushed himself into my mouth with more force. Logan was breathing harshly and the wet sounds of his shaft plunging into my throat filled the room.
I reached down to stroke myself, not surprised to find myself soaking wet. I had never let anyone control me so completely. I had never trusted anyone enough, and I reveled in the feeling of being completely at Logan’s mercy.
I heard Logan make a guttural sound, and I grabbed the base of his length, knowing that he was about to come. His shaft pulsated, and I kept him in my mouth so I could swallow all of him. He groaned loudly, his shaft jerking spasmodically. His eyes were closed, and he almost looked like he was in pain as he came inside my mouth.
He collapsed against the couch when he was done. His eyes opened, and he looked down at me with concern. “Are you okay? I kind of lost it there for a while.”
I crawled up his body and straddled his thighs. I kissed him on his jaw and whispered in his ear, “I’m more than okay. You taste yummy.”
I felt him stir underneath me at my words. I couldn’t believe how brazen I was being, but Logan brought out a side of me that I had never known existed. Our lovemaking had always been passionate, almost off the charts, but a new dimension had been added that I had never experienced before. He had always been inclined to take the reins and control what happened in the bedroom, but I never felt this intense need to be dominated by him. It was thrilling to feel like I was being used by him, that I belonged to him, yet it didn’t make me feel in the least bit degraded. Instead, it just added to my arousal.
“You don’t know what your words are doing to me,” Logan said in a gruff voice.
“Oh, I have an idea,” I said playfully as I rubbed against him. I could feel him starting to harden, which was exactly what I wanted. Giving him pleasure had aroused me and my ache demanded to be satisfied.
Logan’s head fell back onto the couch as I continued to rub my cleft against him, my wetness adding to the sensation.
“You’re insatiable,” he said with amusement, although his expression was quickly turning into desire.
“It’s not my fault that you make me want to be such a slut.” I didn’t know where that came from. I had never referred to myself as a slut before in my life, nor had I ever wanted to. At any other time, I would have greatly objected to being referred to as a slut. There had been a few instances in the past where I had been called that term, and it had stung badly. But in this moment, it felt right. I was Logan’s slut and I wanted to be used by him.
Logan groaned and grabbed my hips, taking control of my movements. He guided my wetness along his shaft, which was now rock hard.
“You’ll only be a slut with me,” he demanded. “You belong to me.”
“Yes,” I moaned as he increased the pressure. The friction was making me wild, and the ache between my legs increased to an almost unbearable level. I needed him inside me, or I would go crazy. “I’m your slut. I’m your slut to use. Please, fuck me. Fuck your slut.”
Logan growled as he lifted me up and guided the head of his now fully erect shaft towards my opening. I cried out when he pushed me down fiercely and thrust his hips up, sheathing himself fully inside me in one swift move. I gripped his shoulders as my head fell back, moaning as I stretched to accommodate him. Before I could fully get used to the feeling, he was pulling out of me and then slamming me back down. He twisted his hips, pushing up as far into me as humanly possible.
“Fuck. Your pussy feels so good. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be sore for weeks.”
“Yes,” I gasped as I made encouraging sounds. “Fuck me hard. Use me as your whore. Please.”
“Hang on to my neck,” he muttered. I barely registered what he said, but I did as he asked. He stood up in one movement with me still wrapped around him. I felt a sense of loss when he guided me to stand and he slid out of me, but I realized what he was doing when he turned me around and had me brace my hands on the arm of the couch.
“Arch your back so I can see your pussy,” he ordered.
I immediately complied, feeling a rush of wetness at his words. A shudder went through me as he swept one finger up my cleft.
“It’s almost too pretty to abuse.”
I arched my back even more. “Please, abuse my pussy,” I whimpered, barely aware of what I was saying. “Fuck my pussy with your cock until it hurts.”
I heard Logan exhale harshly and then he grabbed my hips and I felt the head of his erection pushing against my swollen folds. I pushed my bottom out to encourage him although I doubted he needed it. He slammed into me roughly and I made an inarticulate sound of pleasure. He pulled out almost completely and then thrust into me again, almost violently.
“More,” I begged. “Give me more.”
I was shocked when his next thrust inside me was accompanied by a sharp slap on one of my buttocks. Warmth bloomed where his hand had made contact, and the stinging added to my arousal, making me ache even more. I felt like I was going crazy with lust.
“Do you like being spanked while I fuck you?” Logan asked between gritted teeth as he continued to thrust into me. “Do you like being used for my pleasure?”
“Yes!” I panted. All thought had fled my mind. My nerve-endings were on fire, and I was nothing but a bundle of sensations. “Spank me. I deserve to be spanked hard for being such a slut.”
Another hard crack came down on my other buttock, and I moaned in response, pushing my hips back to meet each thrust. Logan reached down to stroke my clit and the sensation, coupled with his hard thrusts and the heat of my buttocks, was too much and the tension in my body broke. A shuddering climax consumed me with an intensity that was almost too much to bear. The sounds coming from me were primal and raw, but I was too lost in a sea of pain-edged pleasure to care. I didn’t think my orgasm could be even more powerful than my last one, but I was proven wrong.
As I was still shuddering, I felt Logan’s grip on my hips tighten. He groaned loudly as he pulsated deep within me, emptying everything he had inside me.
After a while, the only sound in the room was of our heavy breathing; neither of us said anything. I straightened, only to be scooped up by Logan in his arms and carried into the bedroom. He laid me gently on the bed and then stretched out beside me on his side. I burrowed my head in the cr
ook of his neck, breathing in deeply.
“Was that too much?” he asked softly as he caressed my stomach gently with one hand.
I shifted to my side so that I was facing him. I cupped his jaw with my hand and gave him a soft kiss. “No. It was probably obvious that I was enjoying myself.”
He gave me a half-smile, but it disappeared as his hand lightly grazed my buttocks. They were still tender, but it wasn’t painful. “Did I hurt you? I got a little carried away.”
I buried my face against his neck again. Now that we were out of the lust-filled moment, I felt a little embarrassed by how much I had enjoyed it, but I wanted to be honest with him.
“It hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt. It just made me hotter.”
I hadn’t realized that Logan’s body was tense until he relaxed at my words.
“Good. I loved what happened between us, but I want to make sure you know that it was in the heat of the moment. I don’t actually think you’re a slut or anything.”
I couldn’t help laughing at the earnestness of his tone. I pulled my head back to look at his face. “I know. Don’t worry; I’m not going to be siccing Gloria Steinam on you or anything. As you can tell, I was an avid participant in it all.”
“Just checking,” he said with a grin as he gave me a quick kiss. “Although, I did mean everything I said about you belonging to me.”
His words made reality crash down on me. I had been swept away by our lovemaking, and it had been easy to put our problems on the backburner. But now that we were clear-headed again, the problems were still there to be dealt with.
His smile disappeared as he watched me, obviously noting the change in my disposition.
“If you’re about to tell me that you’re still stubborn enough to believe things can’t work out between us, I won’t hesitate to barricade you in here and make love to you until you’re delirious and agree to anything I say.”
I shook my head. After what had just happened, I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could stay away from him. “No, that’s not it. I just feel bad about what this is going to do to Kristina.”
Logan sighed and pulled me close. “I feel bad about it, too. Hell, I should feel worse than you. I fucked up by bringing her back to Chicago with me, but it would be even more of a dickhead move to string her along when I know it’ll never work out between us.” He combed his fingers through my hair and I melted into him, the movement soothing me. “What was it you said before?”
“Which part?” I asked softly, my eyes fluttering shut as he continued to stroke my hair. “I said a lot of things. Some of it crazy.”
“Was the part where you told me you loved me one of the crazy things?”
I smiled against his chest. I would worry about everything later. Right now it just felt good to be with Logan and to know we had a future together.
“Yeah, it was one of the crazy things, but I meant it.” I opened my eyes and lifted my head to place a soft kiss on his neck. “I love you, Logan Delaney. I’m sorry it took me such a long time to admit it.”
He gently tilted my head farther back, and every emotion he was feeling was written across his face. He didn’t need to say the words for me to know, but they thrilled me nonetheless.
“It’s better later than never,” he said softly. “I love you, too, Madison Bailey.”
He kissed me gently, and a rush of emotions ran through me. It was almost painful how much I loved him. Just like in our lovemaking, the pain of my emotions heightened my love for him, and I prayed that our future would be just as sweet.
Chapter Twenty-One
We spent a blissful morning and afternoon together in bed. By unspoken agreement, we avoided any heavy topics and just reveled in each other’s company. I didn’t ask what excuse he had given Kristina for being gone, and Logan didn’t pressure me about what would happen next. But it became unavoidable when Logan’s phone started ringing in the late afternoon and I saw Kristina’s name flashing across his screen. I excused myself to the bathroom to give him some semblance of privacy, although I desperately wanted to hear their conversation. I could hear the murmur of Logan’s voice through the bathroom door but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Their conversation only lasted a couple of minutes, and I exited the bathroom a few moments after their call had ended. Logan was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully clothed. I felt vulnerable in just my t-shirt, which barely grazed the top of my thighs, and wished that I had put my shorts back on before going into the bathroom.
Logan looked up when I came back into the bedroom, his expression tense.
“That was Kristina.”
I nodded, unsure of what to say.
“I have to go home and tell her the truth.”
A tiny part of me had been scared that what had just happened between us was an illusion and he would tell me this was just a meaningless distraction and he was going back to Kristina. I was relieved that this was really happening, that we were really going to be together, but I was also apprehensive about his impending confrontation with Kristina. She didn’t deserve to be betrayed like this, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my happiness for anyone else’s anymore. More importantly, I wasn’t willing to sacrifice Logan’s happiness for a sense of misguided obligation.
I walked over to Logan and he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me down until was I sitting on his lap. His hand slid under my shirt, stroking my hip, and despite everything, I felt the stirrings of desire. I stamped it down because there were serious issues at hand.
“What exactly are you going to say to her?” I asked.
Logan sighed heavily. “I’m going to tell her about us. She deserves the truth. I’ll try to leave out the details, and just hope that she takes it well.”
I frowned at him. “I doubt she’s going to take it well. She’s in love with you, you guys live together, and she moved all the way from California to be with you. I’d say she’s going to take it very, very badly.” I wished I could tell him to leave me out of it, to not tell Kristina about us, but it was cowardly of me to want to be spared being involved in this. I had put myself in this position, and I had to face the consequences.
It was painful when Logan left, not only because I would miss his company but because I knew he was on his way to devastate someone who didn’t deserve it.
I was a mess for the rest of the day. Logan had said he would contact me to let me know how things went, but I still hadn’t heard from him by nine o’clock that night. When my phone was still silent at midnight, I started imagining worst-case scenarios. What if Kristina was able to convince him to give their relationship another chance? How could I win him back if that happened? Did I want to try to win him back if he decided he wanted to be with her instead of me?
Then my mind went another route. An insidious route that brought so much baggage with it. What if Logan wasn’t contacting me because Kristina was so upset that she tried to hurt herself? How could I live with myself if I was responsible for another destroyed life?
The thoughts swirled inside my head until I thought I would go crazy. It was well past one in the morning when my phone beeped, alerting me to a new text. I grabbed it, preparing for the worst, but Logan’s message was brief and vague.
I can’t talk tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.
My imagination went into overdrive. His text was so terse and emotionless that it scared me. It confirmed my fear about him changing his mind, and it took everything in me not to call and demand answers. I had told Logan I would trust him to handle his breakup with Kristina, and I needed to honor that. Still, couldn’t he have infused his text with at least a little bit of warmth? He had told me numerous times today that he loved me, but happiness with Logan had always been a mirage just out of reach. I was afraid that I would fall short again and lose him. Despite my fears, I tried to keep my anxiety out of my response when I texted him back.
Hope everything went okay. Talk to you tomorrow.
My te
xt didn’t require a reply, but my heart still sank when there was no answering text. I told myself it didn’t mean anything and that I had to have faith in him.
It was impossible to fall asleep that night. I tortured myself with what ifs until pure mental exhaustion made my eyes flutter close just when dawn was about to break.
I awoke with a start to a pounding on my door, confused that I hadn’t heard the buzzer for the entrance of my building. I was disoriented and I looked groggily at my alarm clock and saw that it was already eleven o’clock. The pounding on my door sounded again, and I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. It had to be Logan, and my heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him. He had probably caught someone coming in or out of the building and hadn’t bothered with the buzzer. I took a few seconds to make sure that I looked presentable enough and then went to the door.
In my eagerness, I opened it without looking through the peephole and my stomach dropped when I found Kristina standing there. In all the scenarios I had imagined in my mind, I had never anticipated Kristina coming over to confront me. I didn’t even know how she knew where I lived, but that was the least of my problems. To her credit, she looked completely composed and calm, but I didn’t miss the burning emotion in her eyes.
“Can I come in?” she asked in an even-keeled voice.
“Sure,” I said quickly as I stepped back. I didn’t consider closing the door in her face; I was the offending party in this situation, and I figured if Kristina wanted some answers from me, she deserved them. That didn’t stop me from feeling sick by whatever was about to happen.
