Chapter 35 #2
He leaned over her again, bracing himself on his forearms, and hooked his fingers under the lace of her panties. He pulled them down slowly, watching her face the whole time. When he dropped them to the floor, she was completely bare beneath him.
Rachel reached for him, hands sliding to his hips, feeling the flex of muscle beneath her palms. She drew him back down to her, needing to feel his weight, his warmth. She guided him against her, and when his hard length pressed against her slick heat, they both went still.
He was right there. Right where she needed him. Nothing between them now. She felt every inch of him, hot and thick, resting against her entrance. The head of him nudged at her, and the sensation made her breath hitch.
Ghost braced himself on his forearms, caging her in. His face was inches from hers, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, could see the way his pupils had blown wide with desire. His breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling hard.
He rolled his hips, sliding along her entrance without entering.
Just dragging himself through her wetness, letting her feel every inch of him.
The friction was maddening. She could feel the ridge of the head catching at her entrance before sliding up, rubbing against her clit with just enough pressure to make her whole body tense.
Rachel's hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into muscle. "Logan..."
He did it again, that same devastating rhythm.
Sliding through her folds, coating himself in her wetness, the head of him catching at her entrance and making her think he was finally going to push in, but then he'd slide up instead, rubbing against her clit again.
She was already so wet, could feel it on her thighs, and he was taking his time. Making her feel every second of it.
She moaned, louder this time. Her hips lifted to meet him, trying to change the angle, trying to take him inside. But he kept the same rhythm, teasing her, making her body arch and strain beneath him.
"Please," she gasped. "Logan, please."
He caught the sound with his mouth, kissing her deeply. One hand braced beside her head, fingers curling into the pillow. The other slid beneath her neck, cradling her head. His thumb moved along her jaw in a gentle rhythm, grounding her even as he drove her higher.
Then he stopped. His forehead pressed to hers, and she could feel his breath hot and ragged against her lips.
"Baby," he said quietly, "I don't have any condoms."
The words hung between them. Rachel's chest was heaving, her body aching for him, but she heard the question underneath. The vulnerability. The trust he was asking for.
She looked up at him. His eyes were searching hers, dark and intense and completely focused on her.
"I'm on birth control," she said. "And I'm clean. I trust you, Logan."
He stayed completely still. His thumb kept moving gently along her jaw, that same grounding rhythm, but she felt his other hand curl into a fist against the mattress beside her head.
"I've never..." He paused, swallowed hard. His voice was rough when he continued. "I've never been with anyone without protection. I'm always careful, Rachel. Always. The Navy tests us every six months. I'm clean."
She could hear the hesitation in his voice. Not from desire, that was obvious in every rigid line of him, in the way his cock pulsed hot and hard against her. This was something else. This mattered to him. She mattered to him.
He swallowed hard. "I just... I don't want to hurt you. You're..." He trailed off, like he didn't have the words for what she was to him.
Rachel lifted one hand to his face, fingers tracing along his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble beneath her palm. "You won't hurt me," she whispered. "You're not going to hurt me, Logan. I want this. I want you. All of you."
His face changed. She watched his eyes close briefly, watched relief and need and something that looked like awe cross his features. When he opened his eyes again, they were wet.
"Rachel," he breathed, then leaned down and kissed her, slower this time, deeper, like her trust meant everything, like she meant everything.
His kiss grew more urgent, more desperate. His tongue swept into her mouth and she met him, tasting him, feeling the barely controlled need in the way his body trembled against hers.
He shifted his weight, nudging her thighs wider with his knees. The heat between them was impossible to ignore. Her body was slick and aching, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His length was hard and heavy, pressing against her inner thigh, and she could feel the heat radiating off him.
Rachel watched as he reached between them, wrapping one hand around himself. His jaw clenched as he stroked once, then guided the thick head to her entrance. The moment he made contact, the moment he felt how wet she was, his breath caught audibly.
"Jesus, baby," he groaned. "You're so wet for me."
She nodded, unable to form words. She could feel him there, the blunt pressure of him right where she needed him, and her body was already trying to draw him in.
He pushed forward. Just the head at first, and even that stretched her. A groan tore from his chest as he sank deeper, inch by slow inch, her body stretching to accommodate him. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure edged with the slightest hint of pain as she adjusted to his size.
He paused halfway, his forearm braced beside her head, bicep flexed with the effort of holding himself still. His other hand was still cradling her neck, thumb stroking gently along her pulse point. Like she was something precious. Something he couldn't bear to break.
Rachel's head fell back against the pillow. Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping as he sank deeper. He was thick, filling her in a way that bordered on too much. She felt every inch of him, the stretch and burn and fullness. Her body fluttered around him, adjusting, accepting.
When he was fully seated inside her, buried to the hilt, he stilled. She felt impossibly full, like there was no room left inside her for anything but him.
"You okay?" he asked. His voice was strained, barely controlled.
Rachel's eyes fluttered open. She was dazed, breathless, overwhelmed by the sensation of him inside her. "I've never felt this full before," she whispered. "You're so big, Logan."
She felt him pulse inside her at her words, felt him grow impossibly harder. He lowered his head, brushing his mouth along her cheek, down to her jaw. His lips were soft, reverent, at odds with the rigid tension in his body.
"I'll go slow, baby," he murmured against her skin. "Let you adjust. I don't want to hurt you."
But she was already moving, hips shifting, drawing him in somehow deeper. Her body clenched around him and she heard him groan, low and guttural.
"Please," she said, her voice breaking on the word. "I need you, Logan. Need you to move."
A sound rumbled from his chest. Pulling out slowly, so slowly she felt every ridge of him dragging along her inner walls, he pushed back in, filling her completely. The sensation stole her breath.
"Rachel…" he breathed.
He did it again, that slow, deliberate withdrawal, feeling every inch of her gripping him, trying to hold him inside, before he drove back in, deep and sure and devastating.
His rhythm built, heat spiraling through her. Her body arched to meet his, needing more, taking every inch he gave. His name slipped from her lips, barely a whisper, but she felt him react to it. His movements grew harder, deeper, more demanding.
Pressing his forehead to hers, their breath mingled in the small space between them. "You feel like heaven, baby," he groaned. "So damn tight. So perfect. Like you were made for me."
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding tight as she rose to meet him, "Don't stop," she gasped. "Please don't stop."
"Wouldn't dream of it." His voice came out rough against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
When he moved again, sinking as deep as he could go. The angle had him hitting something inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. She cried out, and he swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing her deeply as he claimed her again.
The bed creaked beneath them with every movement. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room, the slick slide of skin on skin, her breathy moans mixing with the low growl he made every time she clenched around him. The room smelled like sex and sweat and them.
He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and dropped one hand between them. His thumb found her clit and she nearly came apart right then. The dual sensation, him filling her completely, stroking deep inside while his thumb circled that bundle of nerves, was too much and not enough all at once.
She cried out, back arching off the bed, and he caught her mouth with his. The kiss was messy, desperate, all teeth and tongue and need.
"Mine," he said into the kiss, voice thick with possession. "You're mine, Rachel. Say it."
She moaned against him, her body already climbing toward release. "Yes, Logan. All yours. Only yours."
He held her tighter, one arm wrapping beneath her back, pulling her closer.
The other hand gripped her hip hard enough to bruise as he drove into her.
Each stroke reached deeper, more powerful, more relentless.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him impossibly deeper.
She was trembling now, every muscle in her body coiled tight. Her face buried against his shoulder, and she could taste the salt of his skin when her lips brushed against him.
"Logan—I'm close," she gasped. "I'm so close."
"I've got you," he breathed. His voice was thick, strained, like he was barely holding on. "Let go, baby. I'm right here. I've got you."
His thumb pressed harder against her clit, circling in tight patterns that had her vision whiting out. His movements grew harder, faster, chasing both their releases.
She shattered. The orgasm crashed through her in waves that stole her breath and made her body clench around him so hard she heard him curse. She cried out his name, over and over, as pleasure rolled through her in devastating pulses.
Above her, he tensed, his rhythm faltering before he buried himself deep, as deep as he could possibly go, and came with a groan that turned into her name.
His pulse inside her, the warmth of him spilling deep, the way he pressed himself as close as he could get, forehead dropping to her shoulder, his whole body shuddering with the force of his release.
They stayed tangled together, breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other. She could feel him still inside her, could feel his chest heaving against hers. Her hands were still on his back, fingers tracing idle patterns along his spine.
For a long moment, Ghost stayed completely still, just breathing. His hand found hers between them, fingers lacing tight. He squeezed once, a wordless communication she felt all the way to her bones.
When he finally pulled back enough to see her face, his eyes were soft.. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
Rachel nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Better than okay."
He kissed her temple, lingering there. "I've never done that before," he said quietly. "Not like that. Not without..."
"Me neither," she whispered.
He pulled back to look at her, searching her face. "Really?"
She nodded. "Really."
Something shifted in his expression. He leaned down and kissed her again, slow and deep and unhurried. When he finally pulled out of her, they both gasped at the loss. She felt empty without him, and from the way his jaw clenched, she thought maybe he felt it too.
He rolled onto his side, pulling her with him until they were facing each other.
His arms came around her, pulling her close until she was tucked against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her ear, strong and steady. His hand stroked through her hair, fingers gentle against her scalp.
For tonight, they had time. And for the first time since this nightmare started, Rachel felt safe enough to believe in tomorrow.