Chapter 12 #3
Climax descends on me without warning, and Logan shuts me up by holding his palm over my mouth. I moan into its warm flesh as he rides me, but then I’m done, spent and brainless as I watch his face tense. His thrusts are much shallower now, but no less fast, and I watch him, enchanted.
“You’re so damn handsome,” I mumble through his fingers before I can catch myself, but fuck it. It’s true. I have never seen porn more arousing than the look on his face when he comes, still slamming into me.
It might just be my frazzled imagination, but I can sense the heat of his cum as his hard, throbbing dick slows down.
He had to bite his lip to hold in his own noise, and it somehow makes me proud to be the cause of his lust. He couldn’t stay away from me even today.
I might not be in any way special to him, but this is enough for me. I’ve never felt more desired.
Logan relaxes, resting his elbows on my body, and as he lets go of my legs, letting them lower on either side of his hips, his dick vacates my body, making me wince. Somehow, I only feel sore now that I’ve come.
Smiling, I stroke his hair, and his warmth comforts me so well I might just doze off, sandwiched between him and the desk.
I should despise him for coming here just hours before my wedding, but instead, I’m so high on pheromones I could fall in love with him before this day is over.
He disposes of the rubber, but barely takes his eyes off me, as if he shares my elation.
“That felt so good,” he whispers, giving me another kiss as his fingers find their way to my slippery hole and tease it on the outside.
I moan, overstimulated yet greedy for being touched.
My hole is tender, and I wonder how it would feel if he inserted his digits now and thrust them in and out.
Could I come again like this? Could I come without touching my cock?
There’s still so many things I want to get from him, but there’s no time, so I hug him, trying to remember his scent.
“You’ll need another shower,” he chuckles, pulling me back to reality despite my brain kicking and screaming.
He even pulls away his fingers, as if to signal that we’re done.
But his comment makes me aware of the damp sensation on my chest, and I go cold when I realize my shirt is still on.
And it’s soaked with a pool of my own cum.
“Fuck… oh no…”
Logan notices what I’m referring to as he pulls away with a hum, zipping up his pants.
“You wanna… swap?” he asks hesitantly.
He’s bigger, the shirt is a bit different, but as least it’s not covered in spunk, for fuck’s sake. Also, a needy part of me wants his shirt, soaked in his smell.
“Yes. Please. Thank you.” I’m a mess, and my voice is about to break, so I just nod when he removes my dirty shirt for me. I should have considered this, but I was too horny to care about anything but getting Logan’s dick.
I feel pathetic, because now I want him to kiss me again, and stay. But we have already taken too many risks. Someone could have heard us. And what if Mom knocked on the door while we had sex? It would have been a disaster.
Logan hands me his shirt, then picks up his hat and bends over again when an envelope falls out of it. I can’t help but stare at the way the dark blue suit pants hug his ass. I’m so gay I can’t believe I’ve been able to lie to myself for so long.
I smell Logan’s shirt when he’s not looking, and I could get high on this scent.
But I’m stalling, and everyone knows I’m here.
If I don’t withdraw now, I might risk falling into him again, and maybe even getting walked in on, so I mutter a quick goodbye and run into the bathroom with my pants still pooled around my ankle.
I can only breathe freely once I’m back in the safety of the damp room.
Logan can walk himself out.
Just like he did that first night at the stables.
This is over.
Me being gay is over.
The shower is a blur, because I don’t have much time left. It’s for the better that I have to rush, because otherwise my mind would be spending far too much time dissecting my life.
Even when I’m washed and ready to get dressed again, my skin feels overstimulated and sensitive as if Logan were still touching me.
When I spot Logan’s envelope on the desk, I itch with the need to take it to him. I even hope that it could be something he left on purpose as an excuse for me to follow him, but when I turn it in my hands, I’m disappointed to see my name on it.
Inside is a simple wedding card and I’m torn between wanting to read it, tearing it to pieces and screaming, but I’m too curious of what spiteful wishes Logan could have for the cheating husband, so I open it.
Three photos slide out into my hands and I go numb at the sight of Holden on top of Madison. I even know where that daybed is. There’s no other explanation for their position and expressions on their faces?they’re having sex.
She’s cheating on me.
I glance at the card with my mind blank, and all it says is:
I hope you find the love you deserve,
Logan