He spins me around, and I don’t waste a second. I jump up and wrap my legs around his hips, hooking my feet behind his back.

“Where’s the bed?” he asks, grinning against my lips.

I can’t wait for a bed. The couch is closer. “Couch,” I say. He didn’t see my lips, so I point to it.

He sits down with me straddling his lap. I lift myself high enough to work the buckle of his belt. He lets me, and he looks somewhat amused as he watches my frantic fumbling. He’s hard beneath his zipper, and if I can ever get it down, I will be able to take him inside me. Logan lifts his hips when I finally get the button free and the zipper undone, and he shoves his jeans down a little. Not far. I don’t give him time.

“Em,” he says as I position myself on top of him. He tips my chin up. “Do we need a condom?”

Oh God. He would think of that. He’s just that good. “We didn’t use one last time,” I remind him. Or the time before that.

“You said we were okay those times,” he reminds me. He takes his dick in his hand and rubs it along my slit, notching it in my cleft where it bumps my clit. “Are we okay now?”

“I can’t think when you do that,” I tell him, trying to count the days. My period just ended a few days ago, but then I remember that I’m on the pill. My mom took me to the doctor as soon as I went home. I don’t want to think about my mom right now. I tap his shoulders and bounce in his lap. “We’re okay,” I say.

When the words come out of my mouth, he aims himself directly at my opening and takes my naked hips in his hands, pulling me down onto him. He groans aloud, filling me slowly as he looks into my eyes. “God, I love you.”

My stomach clenches, in a good way, at the naked emotion on his face. He leans forward, pushing me back, as he realigns our bodies. I brace myself, leaning back with my hands on his knees, pushing my br**sts forward. With a nearly feral gleam in his eye, he licks across my nipple, and then sucks it quickly into his mouth, drawing deeply on the turgid flesh. He shoves his pants down to his ankles, kicks off his shoes, and wiggles his legs until his pants and boxers hit the floor. He rolls me to the side and onto my back, laying me on the couch with a gentle arm behind my back. He never pulls out of me. If he pulled out at this point, I would have to scream.

Logan brushes my hair back from my face with tender fingers. “I like it when you’re on top, but you’re going too fast,” he says. He looks into my eyes, waiting for my acceptance.

We’ve only made love twice, and both times were in the same night, the night before I left. Yet I feel like he’s been making love to me forever. I trust him with my everything, and I give my everything to him. I nod and pull his head down to mine. He kisses me as he begins to move slowly between my thighs, and I open wider for him. Logan tilts my hips, cupping my bottom in his palm, and goes deeper. My breath rushes from my body as he slides in and out, in and out, in and out. His head travels to my breast, and he pays my ni**les the same amount of attention as he did my lips.

“Jesus Christ, Em,” he says. His breath hitches. “We might have to go back to being fast.” He closes his eyes tightly, his lips pressed together. “I want to come inside you.”

His blue eyes open, and he looks at me through a cloud of passion. I can barely think, much less talk to him. Logan lifts my leg and presses it toward my chest, putting his weight on it, and our position suddenly changes. My breath leaves my body. I turn my head into his forearm, which is beside my face, and nip his wrist with my teeth. He chuckles.

“Like that?” he asks. He sits up a little and looks down at where we’re joined, holding my leg close to his chest. His strokes are slow and deep. Then quick enough to take my breath. Then slow. Then quick.

“Jesus, Logan,” I cry. “Stop tormenting me.”

I open my eyes and look into his. “Be patient. I’ll take care of you,” he chides. He watches our bodies as one, and he rims my opening with his fingertip, circling around his dick. “So tight,” he breathes. I’ve never shared such intimacy with anyone. Ever. And I know I’ll never find a feeling like this with anyone but him. It’s more than sex.

He leans down, covering my body with his, and his hips lift quickly, pistoning his c**k inside me. I clutch him to me because I’m afraid I’ll shatter. He rocks to his side, and his hand slides between us. He touches my clit, his finger wet from where he just stroked me. He strums my clit. Once. Twice. Three times. Then I shatter with a keening cry.

He lets my leg go, and it falls to the back of the couch. But Logan’s not done. He massages my clit, milking every last quiver and shake from my body, working me until I can’t take anymore. I pull his hand from between us, whimpering and shaking my head. He thrusts one more time, and then he grunts in my ear, coming inside me, soaking my walls as he grinds out his orgasm. Into me.

Logan collapses on top of me, spent, his breath heavy. My eyes are closed because I don’t have enough strength left to open them. But I feel his gentle hands as he tilts my head to face him. “Look at me,” he insists. His voice is hesitant. “I need for you tell me everything is going to be all right.”

I don’t know what he means. I’m back, aren’t I? I shake my head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He searches my face. “You promise?” His eyebrows draw together tightly. “You’re certain?”

I push his shoulder so that he has to sit up a little. “Certain about what?” I ask.