23. Serena
23
SERENA
L ogan’s mouth is warm and hard against mine, his hands tugging me into him.
“Was this a ploy just to get me in your bed?” I tease as I pull away.
He leans his forehead against mine and chuckles.
“No, but I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me,” he jokes. “I’m not sure what came over me, but I had this quick notion of what it might be like if you had not forgiven me, and I just needed—I just needed to feel you.”
I pull back a little further so that I can see his face better. I reach up and touch his cheek.
“I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.”
I sit back against the seat, and Logan tugs me into him, sliding his arm across my shoulders. I lean my head on his chest. We’re quiet in the backseat as the driver takes us to Logan’s house.
Twenty minutes later, he opens the back door for us and Logan helps me out of the car. He holds my hand as he leads me into the house. The second the door is closed behind me, he grabs me in a hot kiss, pressing me against the door with both arms caging me in.
Without breaking the kiss, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me up the stairs to his bedroom. The room is dimly lit, casting a soft glow over us as he gently lays me down on the bed.
“Change of plans—you’ll be dinner tonight.”
I gasp and instantly feel the heat pool between my legs.
“Yes, please,” I murmur as I watch him tug his shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled abs.
I reach for his belt, but he grabs my wrist and moves it away. The way he looks at me makes me hold my breath.
He removes his pants, stepping out of them and kicking them away before he kneels at the foot of the bed. He grabs my feet, sliding my body to the edge of the bed as he does. His eyes are locked on mine as he kisses the bottom of one foot, then makes his way upward.
His fingers trace the delicate lines of my inner thigh, sending shivers up my spine. The anticipation and lust in his eyes make my heart race, and I struggle to maintain eye contact.
He gently kisses the inside of my knee, then the other, trailing his fingers up my leg as he goes. His touch is feather-light, sending electrical pulses straight to my core. I can feel the moisture pooling between my legs, making me desperate for him.
When his fingers finally reach the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, I arch my back, eager for more. He grazes the edge of my panties, and I whimper, desperate for him to go further.
"Please," I beg.
He smiles, a smug, satisfied look on his face that turns me on even more.
His fingers trace gentle patterns on my thighs, and I can't help but let out a small moan. He smiles, knowing he has the power to make me feel this way. As his fingers move higher, I can feel the tension building between my legs.
He continues to trace a path upwards, and his fingers finally reach their destination. He gently brushes the sensitive button below my waistband, and I gasp at the feeling. My hips arch towards him, begging for more.
He doesn't disappoint. With one swift motion, he removes my panties, tossing them aside.
As he slowly leans forward, I close my eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. I can feel his breath against my skin, warm and soft, as he kisses and licks me, tasting every part of me. His fingers, still feather-light, send electricity coursing through my body.
His tongue darts out to taste me, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.
My hands grab the sheets beneath me.
He continues to stroke me, and I can feel my climax building. My breath hitches, and my eyes flutter shut as I become lost in the pleasure he gives me.
His touch becomes more insistent, and I can feel my body responding to him. My hips buck, pushing myself towards him, desperate for more.
Just as I'm about to reach my peak, he stops. I open my eyes, expecting to see a look of satisfaction, but instead, a look of hunger and desire replaces it. His eyes lock with mine, and I can feel the intensity of his stare.
"Please," I whisper again, my voice a mere breath in the air. "Please, Logan, I need you."
He gives me a wicked grin that sends shivers down my spine. Without any further hesitation, his head is between my legs again. His tongue and fingers work in tandem as he licks my juices while his thumb presses against my clit and two fingers curl against my G-spot. I’m ready to come off the bed. I need him inside me!
As he continues to pleasure me, I can feel my climax building, stronger and more insistent with each passing second. My hands now fist the sheets beneath me, and I let out a soft moan of pleasure.
Finally, as my body reaches the brink of orgasm, he stops. I open my eyes to find him looking up at me. His expression is sin, friendship, love—erotic. And then he dives in, wrapping his arms around my legs and pulling me closer to him. His mouth doesn't leave my center until he’s ready to enter me. I can feel the tip of his cock at my entrance, the head pushing against me, eager to be inside.
As he enters me, I let out a small cry, feeling the immense pleasure. My hands grip the sheets tighter, and my hips arch towards him, eager to feel every inch of him.
His movements are slow and deliberate, making sure to take in every part of me. I let out a small moan, feeling the pleasure building inside me.
He begins to pick up his pace, his motion more fervent. My breath hitches, and I let out a small cry, feeling the sensations build up even more.
He reaches down, kissing me hungrily as he does. His mouth goes down to find my breasts, his tongue licking a circle around my nipple. I throw my head back.
“Logan!”
He chuckles against my skin, the vibration sending a ripple of pleasure through me. His kiss travels down my chest, his hand sliding between us, finding me slick and wet.
As he enters me again, I gasp, my hands gripping the sheets so tightly my knuckles turn white. My hips meet his thrusts, matching his rhythm. The tension escalates, the pleasure increasing with each thrust.
His eyes lock with mine, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down my spine. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
His movements become more frenzied, and I can feel my climax approaching. I throw my head back, moaning his name, unable to control my body's reaction.
He moves faster, his breath quickening, and I can feel the pleasure building inside me. I'm about to explode, the sensation overwhelming.
“Yes, Logan, yes!”
He grunts, his face a picture of intense focus as he thrusts into me. His hands grip my hips, pulling me towards him with each movement.
The tension finally reaches its peak, and I cry out, my body trembling as I climax. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me, leaving me breathless and spent.
As I lay there, recovering from my orgasm, Logan’s breath hitches, and he lets out a soft moan. His movements slow, and he pulls out of me.
He collapses beside me on the bed, our sweaty bodies pressed against each other. His heart is pounding, and his breathing is ragged.
He leans over and kisses me softly, his lips tasting of me.
“That's not all, is it?” I tease.
He chuckles as he pulls me into him.
“If you’re going to be a brat like that, yes,” he kisses my head.
“Well, I’m starving.”
“Then let’s go into the kitchen so I can cook for you or eat you on the table. I’ll decide.”
I gasp, shocked and extremely turned on by his flirting.
“Is that an option?”
“Yes,” he chuckles as he rolls out of the bed.
I follow him, bending down to grab my dress. He grabs my wrist again and shakes his head.
“No, ma’am, we’re not getting dressed for this.”
“You want me to walk around your house naked?”
“Absolutely, I want to be able to taste you and take you whenever I want.”
My knees almost buckle as I suck in a breath.
Okay, I can get used to this.
There’s something so hot about a man who can’t keep his hands off you.
As I walk through his house naked, I feel a sense of liberation and excitement. Every step I take, I can feel his eyes on me, and it only makes me want him even more.
We go to the kitchen, and he starts preparing a meal. I can't help but watch his muscles flex as he works.
He turns around and grins at me, catching me staring. "You're making me hungry," he smirks.
I blush, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "You'd make anyone hungry," I respond playfully.
He chuckles, and I can't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over me. This is what I wanted, what I needed—a man who can make me feel desired, alive, and happy simultaneously.
As he finishes cooking, I can't help but feel my stomach grumble with anticipation. The scent of the meal he's prepared fills the kitchen, and the anticipation of our next encounter heightens my senses.
He sets the table and pours us each a glass of wine, the red liquid swirling and deepening the already intense atmosphere. We sit down and begin to eat. The food tastes exquisite, and the wine is smooth and full-bodied. But no matter how much I eat, I just grow hungrier.
Perhaps it’s the way he keeps glancing at me, his eyes dark with desire. Or the way he finds any excuse to touch my skin. I can't help but wonder what he's planning next.
Will he always look at me like this, or is it just because this is our makeup period?
Does it matter?
I blow out a breath and focus on enjoying the moment rather than overthinking everything.