the faucet.”
She did as she was told. Placing both hands on the faucet, bracing herself for his entrance, she remembered what he wanted to hear from her. The problem was his hands on her body, feeling like they were everywhere—In her hair, on her hips, cupping her breast, helping her shimmy out of her soaked shorts—she couldn’t formulate a single thought other than if he would just get inside of her.
His large hands came down across her ass, rubbing her butt cheeks, slightly pulling them apart as his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin between her cheeks. He rubbed the flesh between her legs, finally making his way to her clit where he flicked it with his fingertips. It was almost enough to bring her to orgasm. Still holding herself up by the faucet, he shoved his fingers inside her aching channel. She cried out in ecstasy.
“I’m not hearing anything, Cinderella,” he reminded her. “Do you want me to stop?”
He began pulling his fingers out of her, inch by devastating inch.
“No. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Talk to me then.”
He slid his fingers back inside her, pushing hard enough on her g-spot, giving her the pressure she’d been craving.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted.
“You’ve already told me that.”
“I haven’t been eating good enough.”
“I can feel in my hands that you’ve lost weight. Tell me something I don’t know.” He continued his slow assault, pulling his fingers out, rubbing her clit, and pushing them back in.
“I…I tried touching myself, hoping it would feel the same as when you do it.” That answer got her more sweet goodness. He rubbed her clit, harder and harder, nearly bringing her to the brink.
“Did you imagine it was my fingers? Doing this to you?”
“Mmmm-hmmm. Keep going, I’m almost there.”
“You keep going. Tell me more. You are so fucking beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing right now.”
She turned her head as much as she was able to, seeing his hard cock and the dark gleam in his eyes nearly brought her to orgasm. One more rub from him and she would fall into the depths of surrender. His erection bobbed against her butt, his hands fluttered around her backside, her stomach, the slickness between her legs. She was getting ticked off again and she wasn’t sure why. Why was he doing this? Why was he bringing all of this out of her?
It was hard to think. Her body moved against his hand with each thrust of his fingers. He was fucking her with his fingers. Full on thrusting and hitting just the right spot. She was so close to coming.
“I fucking love you so much it hurts, Logan and I can’t fucking have you. Is that what you want to hear?”
He rubbed her clit once more, creating fireworks of painfully good pleasure that soared through her body. Her toes curled, her nipples ached, and she felt her knees begin to buckle as she rode his fingers and came harder than she ever had before.
Chapter Thirty
Was she fucking crying? You’ve got to be kidding me. How can a woman cry out in ecstasy from an orgasm one minute and the next be crying…in pain? The water was no longer hot, and it was obviously time to get out. He shut the water off and pulled her towels off the rack. He gently began to pat her dry. Starting with her legs, he worked his way up her body, passed her luscious sex that was pink and red from his heavy assault, and up to her shoulders where he wrapped it around her, securing her arms inside. “Why are you crying?”
“Why did you make me tell you that?” she pushed her finger into his chest. Ouch. “I didn’t want to tell you that. It changes nothing, do you hear me?”
Damn, yeah, loud and clear. But screw this, he was tired of being Mr. Nice Guy and he wasn’t letting her off the hook. “Stop running away from everything, Gabriella. You are not shutting me out of your life like you did your parents. It’s not happening.”
“Me? You live in New York, Logan! I have to shut you out, don’t you get it? If I don’t, all that will happen will be me sitting here pining over you, praying for something to happen between us and it’s not happening.” She threw her arms up at him and walked off.
Fuck, she pushed his buttons. He stormed after her, wanting to put this argument to rest. “It could.”
“No, it