Blow(71)

Logan glanced around the room. “Follow me.” His voice was just as soft as it had been a few moments ago.

It didn’t bother me that he’d told me what to do; in a way his words had almost been posed as a question, as if he knew I wouldn’t take being ordered around well.

The space was vast but surfaces to f*ck on were not. We had the couch, which could work, but it was rather narrow; we had the wall, or . . . I spotted it right away . . . we had the table, and condom in hand, that’s where he was taking me.

Both of us completely bare in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, he led me to the corner table with no hesitation. My breath grew louder with each step. When we reached our destination, I bent myself over the slick surface without daring to look at Logan. It was the position that made the most sense and I really just wanted him to f*ck me already.

The heat of his body radiated behind me and I could hear his own ragged breaths. They mimicked mine. I waited for him to touch me with an anticipation that surprised me. With the sounds of our mingled breaths the only noise in the room, I placed my palms flat on the cool surface. Time seemed to take forever to pass. What was he doing? I wanted to look but didn’t at the same time.

Finally, I heard the tearing of paper, the manipulation of latex, and then his hands were on my hips, followed quickly by the warmth of his chest all over my back. The feeling rocketed though me and I felt every muscle in my body clench in need. He felt amazing on my skin. The kind of blanket I never wanted to shed.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His mouth was warm and at my ear again.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the freak-out I was certain my brain would have, but it never came. I was okay with this—with him talking to me during sex. Well, technically we weren’t having sex yet, so maybe that was why.

Gripping the edge of the table, I nodded and spread my legs wider, pressing my naked body farther back against his very ready one.

His exultant groan echoed in my ear, but then his mouth was gone. Luckily, it hadn’t gone far. His teeth began grazing my shoulder and his fingers found my clit at the same time. Twin bursts of pleasure sizzled under his touch. I bit my lip to stop from crying out.

He played with me—his fingers outlined my clit and his tongue moved across my back in slick, steady waves.

“Please.” The faintly spoken word slipped out. I’d never begged for someone to take me, but I was begging him now.

I wasn’t certain he’d heard me, but then the hand that was on my hip was gone and moments later I felt the thickness of his cock between my legs. He pushed into me painfully slowly. I contemplated taking control and slamming myself back, but his hands were on my hips, holding me in place.

With steady movements he eased in and then out again. In, then out. Giving me a little bit more. Going deeper each time. When he was completely inside me, I thrust my head back. “Please,” I repeated, “I need more.”

His low groan was at the sweet spot he’d found behind my ear and as if he wanted to make sure I got just what I wanted, he stood straight and with his hands tightly gripping my hips, he slammed into me. Hard. Slow and easy was gone. Fast and furious took over.

Again, I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out.

It felt so good.

I wanted great.

His fingers gripped me, pinched me almost, as he slammed into me. Still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted him deeper. I wanted him faster. I wanted all of him. He was holding back, I could tell. I needed to feel this. Wanted it so badly, I could taste it like I could taste the blood from my bitten lip as I licked it away.

Feeling unleashed, I fought against his hold on my hips and pushed my ass back. Everything exploded from there. He pulled back and thrust. His cock slid so deep inside me, deep into places I was certain no one had been, and I felt like I was soaring.

My toes curled into the carpet at such an angle they were cramping. My hands gripped the edge of the table so hard that it was cutting into my skin. His fingers were pressed into my hip bones so deep I was certain I’d bruise.

I didn’t care about any of that.

This was the first time I’d ever let myself go. The first time in the twelve years since I’d lost my virginity that I’d even wanted to. That night was a night I’ll never forget, but it was anything but unforgettable. I had two months until high school graduation, until I was free of my father, and still I acted stupidly. I let all the strength I’d built up to guard myself crumble without a fight and gave in to his sadistic way of life.



My father was up to his typical f*ckery, but that night the sounds were louder than usual. He was f*cking some whore in our living room. He never took his women into his own room. No, they always stayed in the main parts of the house and it was always late at night. I didn’t understand it. We’d moved back to California by then and his room wasn’t the same room he’d shared with my mother. Maybe it was the bed, or the memories. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was used to the endless women, but since my mother’s death he hadn’t been overly vocal, and I’d grown used to that too.

That didn’t mean I didn’t know what he was doing. The occasional “Oh yes” was hard not to hear, and the “That’s it, don’t stop” told me more than I needed to know. Sure, I heard him often enough, but nothing like I’d endured during my childhood. And to be honest, I didn’t care about those women or what he did to them.