Page 50 of Exposed

Cock. His cock. A new word. I’ve heard it, of course, but I’ve never said it. “I love touching your cock. I can’t wait to watch you come, Logan.”

“You talk dirty like that, I’m gonna come even sooner.”

“You like it when I say those things?”

“Fuck yeah,” he rumbles. “It’s hot. Everything you do is hot. But this? Hottest fucking thing ever.”

I’m stroking him hard and fast, plunging my fist down his length as fast as I can. When he starts to grunt and I watch his jaw clench and feel his cock throb in my fist, I slow.

“Fuck, Isabel, I’m right there, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” I whisper. “I promise.”

I want to watch this. Feel it. Experience every moment of his orgasm, and the delirious joy of knowing I’m giving it to him. Nothing matters now but bringing Logan to orgasm.

I feel it begin.

I’m feathering slow soft gentle strokes, shallow ones, and he’s going mad, thrusting, and I know he wants it hard and fast, but I know he’ll feel it all the more intensely if I give it to him slow and gentle. And I want to make it last. For me. This is selfish, what I’m doing. Dragging it out. Memorizing it.

So good.

I’m still touching myself too, and I’m reaching climax as well, but that’s subsumed beneath the tsunami of ecstasy I feel watching him.

Sweat dots his upper lip, his forehead. Shines on his chest. His hands are on my thighs for balance as he thrusts up into my fist, seeking more.

“Oh . . . Oh fuck. Isabel . . .” His voice is ragged, guttural.

I pull him closer, and he rises up, plants a knee on either side of my body, and now I can taste him and touch him at the same time. I take him into my mouth and stroke him at the root and finger my clit and groan, and he gasps. I feel him tense, feel his body tighten.

“I’m coming, Is . . .” he groans.

“Mmmmmmm.” It’s all I can manage, because I’m writhing with my own climax and because I’m too carried away with his to form words, and because I’ve got his cock filling my mouth.

He thrusts, and I like it.

I taste him.

But I want to watch.

I back away and he’s kneeling upright, grasping the headboard of the bed while I’m lying down. I stare up at him, and his eyes fly open to meet mine. I finger myself and feel climax rip through me, and it’s a hot knife slicing me apart.

I’m bucking and writhing, coming, coming, coming, moaning, whimpering.

And then Logan comes.

He grunts, and his seed gushes out of him. I watch it spurt between my fingers and slide over my knuckles and splash onto my breasts. He watches this as well, and groans, thrusts hard into my hand, and I lean up and take him into my mouth and suckle as he grunts a curse, thrusting into my mouth.

Orgasming still, now shooting his come onto my tongue.

I taste his essence, smoky and thick and salty, and I like it.

He’s got more, and I want to watch him come some more.

So I let him fall out of my mouth and caress his length, plunge my fist to his base and pump him hard, and another jetof semen shoots out of him and onto my breasts in a white-hot sticky line on my skin.

So much come, and looking up at him, watching him thrust, I see that he’s not yet done.

I mouth his cock and taste skin and semen, take him deep and suck and stroke his root and cup his testicles and touch him and suck him and take the come that lands on my tongue and swallow it and suckle him yet more.