33. Daphne
33
DAPHNE
“When they said having sex the first time could be painful for women, I thought they meant physically. I didn’t realize they meant painfully awkward.” I roll my head on the pillow to glance over at Logan coming in from the bathroom, having disposed of the condom and cleaned up. His chest is heaving, his hair tousled.
He climbs back in our bed with a laugh. “It would’t have been so awkward if you hadn’t mooed!”
My laughter bursts forth. “I’m sorry! When you were sucking on my nipple, it felt so good. Then I got thinking of the time we were at that farm. The calf latched on to nurse, and the mommy cow let out a surprised ‘ Mooooo!’ —I couldn’t help it.” I roll to my side and snuggle up, resting my head on his chest and feeling his arms encircle me. “I admire and appreciate your ability to focus and get the job done, even with my silliness.”
He leans down and kisses me. “Next time I’m going to make you so crazy you won’t think of anything but me.”
I run my hand down his torso and fondle his cock. “So, what you’re saying is I shouldn’t cry out for you to give me your cock-a-doodle-doo while I’m in the throes of passion?”
His chest is making my head bounce from how hard he’s laughing.
“Oh my God, Daphne, don’t you dare! I’m afraid it will quickly become a cock-a-doodle-don’t.”
I squeeze his cock that is hardening in my grasp and search Logan’s face. “How long before it’s a cock-a-doodle-let’s-do-it-again?”
Rolling me onto my back, he kisses me deeply. “I didn’t think of you as the insatiable type.”
“It’s your fault for being so good at this.” I can’t suppress my moan as he kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. This time, when he takes my nipple in his mouth, I arch my back and beg for more. He keeps his promise. I’m so focused on him, I can’t think of farms we visited or funny jokes or anything other than his body making love to mine. All this glorious skin—every last inch, even the parts that aren’t twelve inches but are totally wonderful however many inches they are—stretched over his muscular body is available for me to touch. There is no awkwardness. We’re both quick learners. I discover running my nails from the nape of his neck and through his hair, massaging his scalp, causes him to shiver and let out a low moan that does things to me. It’s not just the moan, it’s the way his fingers skim down my side and skate past my belly button to my clit. He knows the perfect motions and just the right amount of pressure to bring me to the edge. As he eases his cock into me, stretching me, filling me, his lips move from my breast, across my collarbone, up my throat, raining little kisses, little nips, and soothing licks on his way to kiss me. His mouth is firm but gentle against mine, his tongue caressing. I grab his ass and try to flex my hips against him to get him to start moving. I know why he’s being slow and gentle, I’m new at this, but I want it all. So what if I’m sore or walk funny for a day or two? I packed Tylenol and I’m a tourist. No matter what I do, I’ll be met with a certain amount of French disdain. When Logan breaks our kiss to bury his head where my shoulder and neck meet, I lean my head to give him more access.
“Logan, more,” I pant. “I love you, give me more. It’s okay. Love me.”
That’s all that needed to be said for Logan to give a low, sexy growl, move his hands to my hips to anchor me, and start moving harder and faster. His thrusts are deep and rhythmic and hitting spots I didn’t realize needed hitting. My breath comes faster, and I feel my release bearing down on me. I’ve had orgasms before, I know how to pleasure myself, but to have them with someone…with Logan…is everything. I cry out as my orgasm hits and I tighten around him, his thrusts become more staccato as he comes too, shuddering as his release pulses through him. His weight is heavy on me, but I love it. If we could stay like this forever, I’d have everything I’ve ever wanted.
* * *
I’ve missed waking in Logan’s arms. Not that we slept much last night, but the sleep we got was restful. I don’t want to leave the warm cocoon of our bed.
Logan reaches out and runs a finger along my cheek, his gaze tender. “I love you.”
I will never tire of hearing those words. “I know. I’m irresistible.”
Jumping up to avoid being tickled by his questing fingers, I throw over my shoulder, “I love you too. Now get your fine ass out of bed and get ready.”
We already showered after our last lovemaking session, so we’re presentable with a minimum of fuss, thank goodness. I’m starving. We had room service sandwiches last night for a late dinner, but our activities worked up quite an appetite in me, and not solely for food. But food is the most pressing need.
The continental breakfast served in the hotel’s dining room was delightful, but I’m famished for lunch after walking all morning to the Cathédrale Notre Dame de Strasbourg and then touring the magnificent Gothic cathedral. It was breathtaking. I’m awestruck by all the history here. Toto, I’m not in South Jersey anymore.
After lunch at a café, we stroll back to our hotel. I’m still jet-lagged, and neither of us got a full night of sleep. We decide a nap before dinner is what we need. Dinner ends up being room service again.
Oops. Not sorry.
“I have a surprise for you,” Logan whispers in my ear to wake me the next morning.
“Again? Are there still condoms left?” It’s too early for me to do mental math, but I think we’re close to running out.
Chuckling, he nuzzles that spot that makes me giggle and causes me to squirm. “We need to pick up more while we’re out. But first, I’ve arranged for us to be given a private tour of the hotel.”
He presses a kiss to my neck, and I hope the tour isn’t soon. That dream is dashed when he rolls away and gets out of bed. I appreciate the view of his gorgeous body, but I wish it was still here in bed with me.
“Time to rise and shine, sunshine—breakfast, tour, and then Christmas markets. I know I’ve turned you into a sex fiend, but we can’t spend all our time in here boinking. We need to experience this beautiful town.”
“Logan,” I whine, “come back to bed. I miss you!”
It doesn’t work because that fine ass walks into the bathroom and closes the door. Ugh. When the door opens a few moments later, I think I’m going to get my way, but no. Logan is being a gentleman, asking if I need to use the bathroom before he gets in the shower. We may be best friends and lovers, but our relationship is most definitely not at the let’s pee in front of each other stage. We should save some things for after marriage…or for never.
I start the shower in hopes Logan will join me. Like always, he doesn’t disappoint me. Many soapy minutes later leave neither of us disappointed—getting clean has never felt so dirty. Rising from my knees, I finish rinsing off and step out of the shower into the warm towel Logan is holding open for me.
“Daphne, these have been the best days of my life. I love you so much,” he tells me while he folds me in the towel.
I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. Hearing his heartbeat is one of my most favorite sounds in the entire world. I place a kiss on his pec and melt a bit when he kisses the crown of my head. I love hair kisses. I never knew that was a thing for me, but coming from Logan, it is. Okay, kisses anywhere coming from Logan do it for me, but the gentleness and affection of those kisses make my tummy flip.
“C’mon, we need to dress so we can have breakfast and do our tour. Lots of things to do today,” he says, securing my towel and pulling away. He hands me a second towel so I can run it over my dripping hair. The towel wrapped around his trim waist drops to the floor when he turns to walk into the bedroom. I enjoy the view before moving to the bathroom counter to get ready.