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“Seems like something she would do.” He laughs for a moment, his hands cradling my face, but then he quickly turns serious and he kisses me.
This kiss starts slow, delicate, but there’s too much bursting at the seams, and it quickly turns greedy. He cradles the back of my neck as my hands find their way around him. We meet flush, kissing and kissing until we’re out of breath. And then we pull back and do it again. Hands are traveling everywhere in messy chaotic movements. My kisses are uncoordinated in the best way: his neck, his ear, his forehead, his nose. Everywhere I can kiss him right now, I do. Everywhere I can shower him with affection, I do.
He reaches for my dress, unwrapping the knot in a quick move. I reach for his sweatpants, yanking them off. Once we’ve been rid of our clothes, we fall into bed, my legs wrapping around his waist. This feels like a dream: wanting, and wishful.
“Definitely not letting you go now,” he says, as he gently settles over me.
I hold him close as he places the softest kiss on my neck, and reaches over for his drawer again. This time I take the condom from him, gently opening it and rolling it on. He watches me with that small smile as I guide him inside me.
He eases inside, and my legs shake from the sensation, from the desire and the anticipation.
“Julieta,” he says with wonder.
“Say it again.”
He smiles and I trace it lightly with my fingers, wanting to commit this to memory. “Julieta.”
I pull him to me and kiss him. Our bodies start to move and it’s intoxicating how good it feels.
“Look at all of this passion,” he whispers in awe. “Look at you.”
“I don’t want this to stop,” I blurt out.
“It won’t,” he shakes his head. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head gently, pushing in slowly, making me crave it.
“You and me, Logan,” I breathe out. “This is the best thing.”
That tenderness is back, the look on his face that is saying too much for me to decipher. He thrusts in harder, and it feels so deliriously good, I don’t want this to ever stop.
“I want all of this,” I beg, in between moans. “I’m selfish for all of you.”
“I’ll give you all of me, sweetheart.” He bites my neck, driving in harder. I wrap my legs around him tighter, crying out.
He lets go of my wrists and sits back on his heels, bringing his fingers between us to bring me over the edge. He watches me with that smug smile, one that’s probably saying, I’m good with my hands, remember?as he keeps his fingers moving in tight circles. I didn’t think I could come again, but now I’m so close I desperately want it.
“Right there,” I gasp, a moan slipping past my lips.
“Yeah?” He keeps the pressure, he keeps thrusting harder, and then I’m pushed right over. He follows, crashing into me, shaking from his own release.
My mouth meets his and my fingers grip his hair and my body pushes against his. All these things that are sayingthis is where you belong.
I feel dizzy and disoriented in the best way.
“I’m …wrecked,” I say, breathing heavy.
“That good, huh?” He laughs, his own breaths coming in short spurts.
Quietly I realize that a word can take on a whole new meaning here, in the silence, in his arms, in being near him.
“I’m grateful for you,” I tell him.
I don’t expect a response, but he lifts up on his hands to look at me, and says seriously, “I’m never letting you go.”
And maybe I’m wrecked in more ways than one.
Chapter twenty-seven
Logan
