Revealing Us (Inside Out #3)(64)

“I won’t move them.”

He holds my stare, assessing my words, and then—seeming satisied I mean them—his ingers leave my hands to trail up my arms over my shoulders. He surprises me yet again by squat-ting at my feet, his hands settling on my ankles. “I’m going to start logging you here and then move higher.” His hands caress over my calves, over my knees, to my thighs. “Then here.” He presses them apart and slides the Fingers of one hand into the V between my legs, exploring my sex.

“There? Won’t that—”

He dips a inger inside me. “Feel good? Yes.” The slow stroke of him pulling out of me is sweet torture. He cups my sex and kisses my hip.

“Chris.” It’s a plea, wanting his mouth where his hand is, and he knows it. But he doesn’t give it to me. I know he won’t.

Instead, he drags his lips over to my belly button, licking me, teasing me.

When he pushes to his feet, the male force of him overwhelms me. It’s arousing. He’s arousing. His hands glide from my waist to my breasts, and he teases my nipples, plucking at them. “And here, Sara. I’m going to log your breasts.” He plucks harder now, rougher, and I’m wet and aching, not thinking about the logger. I’m thinking about him inside me.

“And inally,” he murmurs, reaching around me to cup my backside hard against him. “Here. This is where I’ll log you right before I f*ck you.”

“Can we get right to that part?”

He smiles. “What fun would that be?”

“I think it would be lots of fun.”

He kisses me. “The wait always makes it better.”

“You always say that. It gets irritating.”

He laughs and licks one of my nipples. “I’ll work on that.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No,” he agrees. “I won’t.” His hands leave my body and he steps back from me. In a lash of movement he’s shoved down his pants and boxers and kicks them aside. A second later he is gloriously naked, his body a work of art, his cock jutting forward, thick and pulsing.

My gaze shifts to his dragon tattoo and settles on the logger in his hand. My heart seems to lodge in my throat, because I can’t breathe. How had I forgotten this is really happening? He’s going to log me.

Chris steps close and leans in, pressing his hands on the desk next to mine without touching me, the dangling tails of the logger teasing my arm. His cock between us taunts me, so very close to where I need it to be. Where I need him to be.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs near my ear. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“I know,” I whisper. “Just take good care of me quickly, before my heart explodes from my chest.”

A low rumble of sexy laughter rumbles from the chest that I yearn to touch right now. “We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”

I surprise myself by smiling. I’m about to be logged, and I’m actually smiling. Chris and I really are nothing like how Rebecca described herself and Mark.

“Then let’s get to it.” He pushes of the desk. “I’m going to start now. Ready, Sara?”

“No. Yes.” I take a deep breath. “Yes.” He arches a brow and I say, “I’m ready.”

“Close your eyes. You’re making yourself crazy, staring at the logger.”

He’s right, I am. I shut my eyes. Seconds tick by, and I’m just about to scream “Just do it! Just log me!” when I feel the silk brush my calves. I jump a little. Not much. It doesn’t hurt.

The logger lifts and hits me again. Then again.

The sound of the tails swiping at me becomes almost a song in my head, drugging, seductive, moving in the same rotation as it had on my arm. My skin starts to warm.

As if knowing when it does, Chris moves the tails up to my knees, and lingers there until the same warmth forms. Then he moves to my thighs, and I’m suddenly more than warm. I’m hot, and aroused, and arching my back. I know what comes next, yet when it does, I gasp.

The tails swipe my clit, the swooshing motions biting at the delicate skin and sending a burst of arousal through my entire body. I’m panting, nearly begging for more, not even knowing what I want more of. I just want it.

The tails move up my body, over my stomach and higher.

Sizzling sensations roll through me and I tilt my head back, anticipating what comes next. When it does, I forget to breathe.

The silk slaps over my sensitized breasts and then bites at my nipples. For the irst time, I feel pain. Another slap immediately follows, and another, and the pain spirals into pleasure.

Suddenly I’m squeezing my thighs together, my sex clenching, so close to coming . . .

Chris’s hands come down on my waist, his cock brushing my leg. “Oh, no you don’t,” he growls low in his throat. It’s sexy.

He’s sexy. I want him. “Not yet.”

“Yes!” I demand, but he turns me to face the desk, my hands on the glass.

“You come when I say you come. You know that rule.”

I heat at the memory of him spanking me for coming too soon. Please, yes. Spank me. “And if I don’t?” I taunt.

He nips my ear, and his cock presses against my backside.

“Come with me, baby. We do things together, remember?”