His lips brush the shell of my ear as he speaks, and I shiver. All the nerve endings in my body seem to be on high alert, screaming for more.
But instead of giving me what we both know I want, he backs off and teases my clit with light, feathery strokes. It's maddening. Delicious. Torture.
Each tiny touch sends sparks careening through me, lighting every nerve ending like a firework display. But it's not enough. Not even close.
I need more. Him. Now.
With a growl of frustration, I buck my hips back, yearning for the hard slide of him deep inside me.
Logan's hand stills at the same moment his lips find the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Feisty. I like it," he murmurs, his hot breath fan across my skin.
He grinds his hips forward, just a fraction, filling me a little more. "You're so tight, sweetheart. So wet. This pussy was made for my cock, wasn't it?"
