Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(77)

He moved down to her clitoris, rubbing it between two of his slick fingers and stimulating it. Bront? jerked again, her h*ps flexing, and her gasps became rapid and wild, as if she were unable to control herself. She worked her h*ps against his hand, and he continued to rub her clit, then pushed his thumb into her core.

She went wild, writhing against his hand and moaning his name as he continued to work her. He could feel her p**sy shuddering with each shallow thrust, and he pushed the pad of his thumb forward, increasing the friction even as he continued the measured, steady rubbing of her clitoris. “Logan,” she cried. “Oh, please! I—”

Her entire body clenched under him, muscles quivering, and she made a soft, keening sound. Her p**sy clenched around his thumb, milking it with the force of her orgasm. He continued to rub, wanting to prolong the pleasure for her, and she continued to make that low keening noise that made his c*ck throb with wanting her.

The orgasm seemed to go on forever, but then Bront? gave one final shudder and sagged against the blankets, resting her cheek against them. Her legs were sprawled, her sex gleaming wet from her pleasure. “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, Logan.”

He licked his fingers, tasting her pleasure on his skin. “Beautiful.”

A soft, sated smile curved under the blindfold, and it made his c*ck jump with need. “Condoms?”

She stilled, reaching for the blindfold. “Oh . . . I don’t think I have any . . . I don’t—” He spanked her ass lightly, and her hand flew away from the blindfold. “Pill. I’m on the pill.”

“Right. Good.” He was pleased to see that her hand had slipped between her thighs and she was playing with her flesh, lightly rubbing along her clit. She bit her lip as he waited, watching her. She let her hand slide away.

“No,” he told her. “Keep touching yourself. I like seeing that.”

He could see the hot blush stealing over her cheeks under the blindfold, but her hand returned between her legs and began to move slowly again. He watched her, fascinated by the sight of her pleasing herself. His c*ck jerked with need again.

Logan moved behind her on the bed, moving between her spread legs. Her ass was so beautiful, perched in the air, that he couldn’t resist running his hands over it again. “Are you still touching yourself?”

She sucked in an excited breath and nodded, as if unable to trust her voice.

He thrust into her in one swift move, hands gripping her hips. She jerked in surprise, a choked moan escaping her. He stilled immediately, worried that she’d been too surprised and he’d somehow hurt her. “Bront??”

“Move,” she moaned, her h*ps bucking up against him. “Oh, God, move.”

He groaned in response to that, thrusting hard again. He’d wanted to be so controlled in his movements, slowly driving her back up the peak of desire, but it seemed that, sheathed deep in her warmth, he’d lost all control. His thrusts were rough and wild, his hands gripping her h*ps to anchor her back against him. And she was out of control, too, pushing back against him to add force to his thrusts, a low scream building in her throat.

“Keep touching yourself,” he demanded, his voice ragged as he continued to pump into her.

Her only response was another muffled scream, and he felt her p**sy clench all around him. Logan uttered a curse, trying to retain control, trying to keep his rhythm, to make this as good for her as possible. Make it last until she was mindless with pleasure. Show her how much he f**king loved her and her body.

She made a soft sound that was almost like a sob, and then she spasmed around his cock, sucking him tight as she began to come again, her body trembling all over with the force of her passion.

He lost control. Thrusting hard into her again, he groaned her name and went over the edge, his own orgasm exploding from his body with a fierce intensity that shocked him. It seemed to go on forever, coming hard and fierce, until it left him as breathless and wrung out as the woman beneath him.

Logan pulled out of Bront?, ignoring her small noise of protest, and rolled the condom off, tossing it into a nearby trash can. When he turned around, she was sitting up in bed, her hands pulling at the blindfold. He moved toward her, gently undoing the knot at the back of her head and then leaning in to kiss her when she smiled up at him.

“I love you,” he told her, his voice gruff. “I mean that.”

Her smile faltered a little. “Thank you.”

She didn’t say it back. For a moment he was surprised, and then angry. And then he chuckled at himself. So this was how she’d felt when she’d confessed and he’d ignored her. Fair enough. It was a good lesson for him to learn. “You don’t trust me yet.” It wasn’t a question.

She bit her lip, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just really . . . I just—”

“Don’t apologize. You can’t help the way you feel. Just know that I do love you, and I’ll prove it to you somehow.” Logan sat down on the edge of the small bed and grabbed the blankets. “You’d better move over if you want to get any sleep tonight.”

Bront? gave a small squeal and shifted on the bed, elbowing him by accident as they tried to make all of their limbs fit in the twin bed. “We both won’t fit,” she protested.

“We will,” he said with determination, and pulled her h*ps against him until their bodies were flush. The fit was tight but pleasant, and it allowed him free rein to nibble on her ear.