that. Tell me.
I already did, she wailed.
Tell me again. His voice was deeper, shadowy and brooked no disobedience. For a second, she wondered about this fantasy, about the dominance and darkness of it. It was so different from anything she had ever experienced before, anything she had ever thought she wanted.
You don’t like it? her fantasy lover asked. I can go.
No! She all but screamed the objection. Don’t leave me.
I’m not going anywhere. She could almost see his fallen-angel smile. I just needed you to know it, too. Now tell me what you’re feeling.
I need more. It feels like I’m being ripped apart from the inside. I need . . . I need—
What do you need, Cecily? Tell me. His voice snapped like a whip across her consciousness, stoking the flames even higher.
I need you! she wailed.
Where do you need me? On your breasts? For one, hot second she felt his teeth on her nipple. She clutched at him, tried to keep him there, but came away with only air.
In your mouth? He was there, his tongue thrusting past her lips and tangling with her own.
Or do you need me lower?
His lips skimmed down her neck to her shoulder. Then it felt like he was beside her, his lips trailing sweet, hot kisses down her shoulder to her hip. She was trembling with the overwhelming pleasure of his touch, shaking apart from it.
Do you need me here? he asked.
She gasped, barely able to hold back a scream as his finger slipped beneath her and circled her anus before slipping inside.
She clenched around him as threads of pleasure shot through her in all directions. What he was doing was wicked, was nothing she had ever imagined before. But the feel of it, the sensations, were incredible. Unbelievable. Like nothing she had ever dreamed existed.
Is this what you want, sweet Cecily? he demanded, and his voice was a growl, barely recognizable now. Or do you want more?
More? There’s more ?
Oh, A stor, there’s always more. And then he was between her legs, his mouth on her hot, wet sex.
She did scream then, arching and struggling against a pleasure so overwhelming that she was certain she would shatter at any moment. She started to cry, great sobs shaking her body as her fantasy lover—as Logan—took her higher and higher.
Baby? Cecily? Are you okay? For the first time since this whole, crazy roller-coaster ride had started, he sounded uncertain. Do you want me to stop? The pressure and pleasure eased, but its absence only made her crazier.
No! No, no, no. Don’t stop. Please— She thrashed against the chaise, arched and trembled and begged. In those moments, nothing mattered but him and the pleasure—the incredible, overwhelming pleasure—that he could bring to her.
Are we there already, A Ghra ?
Yes! Oh, God, yes! she answered him, desperate for some relief from the agony and the ecstasy of her arousal.
All right, then. He lowered his mouth to her again, thrust his tongue deep inside her sex, and she went insane, bucking and twisting and pleading with him for more. For everything.
One of his hands came down on her abdomen, held her in place as his tongue stroked her from the inside. Once, twice, then again and again before he pulled out.
No! She clutched at his hair, held him in place. Please—
But she’d misunderstood. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was just readjusting, changing position.
Suddenly she was on her knees, facing the tall back of the lounger and he was lying beneath her, one hand on her hip and the other on her ass as he sucked and licked and nibbled his way from the bottom of her pussy to her clit.
She screamed when he touched the little button for the first time, her hands clenching the chair as she rocked against his chin, his mouth, his nose. Logan, Logan, Logan. It was a chant, a mantra, a prayer. The only word she could hang on to in the crazy maelstrom of pleasure that surrounded her.
Wave after wave of ecstasy swept through her, took her away, as orgasm hit—huge and wild and totally
I already did, she wailed.
Tell me again. His voice was deeper, shadowy and brooked no disobedience. For a second, she wondered about this fantasy, about the dominance and darkness of it. It was so different from anything she had ever experienced before, anything she had ever thought she wanted.
You don’t like it? her fantasy lover asked. I can go.
No! She all but screamed the objection. Don’t leave me.
I’m not going anywhere. She could almost see his fallen-angel smile. I just needed you to know it, too. Now tell me what you’re feeling.
I need more. It feels like I’m being ripped apart from the inside. I need . . . I need—
What do you need, Cecily? Tell me. His voice snapped like a whip across her consciousness, stoking the flames even higher.
I need you! she wailed.
Where do you need me? On your breasts? For one, hot second she felt his teeth on her nipple. She clutched at him, tried to keep him there, but came away with only air.
In your mouth? He was there, his tongue thrusting past her lips and tangling with her own.
Or do you need me lower?
His lips skimmed down her neck to her shoulder. Then it felt like he was beside her, his lips trailing sweet, hot kisses down her shoulder to her hip. She was trembling with the overwhelming pleasure of his touch, shaking apart from it.
Do you need me here? he asked.
She gasped, barely able to hold back a scream as his finger slipped beneath her and circled her anus before slipping inside.
She clenched around him as threads of pleasure shot through her in all directions. What he was doing was wicked, was nothing she had ever imagined before. But the feel of it, the sensations, were incredible. Unbelievable. Like nothing she had ever dreamed existed.
Is this what you want, sweet Cecily? he demanded, and his voice was a growl, barely recognizable now. Or do you want more?
More? There’s more ?
Oh, A stor, there’s always more. And then he was between her legs, his mouth on her hot, wet sex.
She did scream then, arching and struggling against a pleasure so overwhelming that she was certain she would shatter at any moment. She started to cry, great sobs shaking her body as her fantasy lover—as Logan—took her higher and higher.
Baby? Cecily? Are you okay? For the first time since this whole, crazy roller-coaster ride had started, he sounded uncertain. Do you want me to stop? The pressure and pleasure eased, but its absence only made her crazier.
No! No, no, no. Don’t stop. Please— She thrashed against the chaise, arched and trembled and begged. In those moments, nothing mattered but him and the pleasure—the incredible, overwhelming pleasure—that he could bring to her.
Are we there already, A Ghra ?
Yes! Oh, God, yes! she answered him, desperate for some relief from the agony and the ecstasy of her arousal.
All right, then. He lowered his mouth to her again, thrust his tongue deep inside her sex, and she went insane, bucking and twisting and pleading with him for more. For everything.
One of his hands came down on her abdomen, held her in place as his tongue stroked her from the inside. Once, twice, then again and again before he pulled out.
No! She clutched at his hair, held him in place. Please—
But she’d misunderstood. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was just readjusting, changing position.
Suddenly she was on her knees, facing the tall back of the lounger and he was lying beneath her, one hand on her hip and the other on her ass as he sucked and licked and nibbled his way from the bottom of her pussy to her clit.
She screamed when he touched the little button for the first time, her hands clenching the chair as she rocked against his chin, his mouth, his nose. Logan, Logan, Logan. It was a chant, a mantra, a prayer. The only word she could hang on to in the crazy maelstrom of pleasure that surrounded her.
Wave after wave of ecstasy swept through her, took her away, as orgasm hit—huge and wild and totally
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