other girls who knew how to do their hair or what to wear, and I never knew what to talk about. I never knew what movies were popular or what was on TV.
But Logan, he was one person I could actually talk to. And he was so handsome. Girls liked him. They liked both him and Adam. But Logan spent time with me. We’d talk for hours sometimes in the lab while we waited for lab results. I was so much younger than him, I knew he probably thought of me as a dorky kid sister, just nineteen while he was in his late twenties.
But now to find out he liked me, too. Liked me, liked me.
And now he has his hands on my—
He slips a hand down between my thighs and—
My back arches off the bed and I cum hard. Fucking hard. Logan. Logan. Oh fuck, this is Logan. Logan wants me. Logan called me his. He said no one else could have me.
The orgasm keeps going and he rolls my clit. “That’s right, baby, keep calling my name.”
Oh shit, was I saying all that out loud? But screw it. I’m finally with Logan. Logan’s about to be my first.
“Logan,” I scream even louder, lifting my legs up to get as much contact with his body as I can. “Please, please,” I’m begging even before the orgasm comes all the way down. “Please, Logan. I want it all. I want you inside me. Please, I dreamed about this. I want to be with you. I want you to do it. To make me yours. Please, Logan.”
“Oh fuck, Daphne.” He presses his forehead to my breasts. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” I hear the vulnerability in his voice, the dominant man sounding suddenly conflicted. “I’m not sure if this is right, if you know what—”
Damn him. “I know what I want. Don’t tell me I don’t know what I want.” He’s stripped me bare in so many more ways than one. So for once in my life, I’m going to ask for exactly what I want. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me with your huge cock. I want you—”
“Oh,” I cry out as he shifts and impales me.
“Like this,” he breathes out, voice dark. All I can do is nod and focus on all the foreign sensations flooding my body and mind.
“Your sweet little cunt is gripping me like a vise,” he hisses, “and I’m barely an inch inside.”
There’s more to go? This isn’t it?
Maybe panic flashed on my face or something because he’s immediately soothing. “Shh, you’re all right baby. You can take me. Let yourself go. Give yourself over to me.” His voice deepens with command. “Stop thinking. Give the thinking over to me.”
I nod fervently. Yes, that’s what I want right now. I want him but I don’t want to have to make decisions. I’m so tired of making decisions. I want him to lead and I want to follow because oh, I know it’s so good to follow where he can take me.
“That’s good,” he croons, shifting his hips and pressing relentlessly further inside me. I cry out in surprise at the invasion, widening my legs and cradling them around his hips. Finally, a touch he’ll allow. I wrap my legs around him and lock my ankles around his back.
As if this drives him crazy, he grunts low and his hips piston forward, shoving the last several inches in. My chest arches up at the intrusion, thrusting our chests together, my hard, pebbled nipples rubbing against the bristling hairs that dust his chest.
“You’re inside me,” I whisper in amazement. “Logan, you’re inside me.”
“The first and the last,” he says darkly before grabbing my face and crushing his lips to mine. And then, like he has to imprint his words on my body like a solemn vow that needs a ceremony to seal them, he begins to piston in and out of me.
I don’t know how to describe it. It’s uncomfortable at first but not exactly painful. He’s so large. I cherish it. I’ve never felt more feminine. But not delicate. He’s not treating me like some little delicate piece of glass to put up on a shelf for fear of breaking.
No, I’m a woman now. Raw. A woman to be fucked. And that’s what he’s doing. He’s fucking me and…and making love to me at the same time, I think. Or maybe I’m over-romanticizing it. Maybe I’m—
“I must not be fucking you