Free Matter of Time by Alannah Lynne Page B

he lowered his head and swept his tongue across her lip to clean up the mess left behind. Muttering against her lips, he said, “Open for me, Lizbeth. Let me inside where I belong.”
    And just like when he asked her to give him a second chance, she wouldn’t even think of refusing him.
    This kiss was slower, sweeter than the one they shared in the bar, but she knew it wouldn’t stay that way. And she didn’t want it to. She’d never been one for slow, sweet seduction, but rather enjoyed hard and fast complete dominance that resulted in him taking what he wanted.
    The problem was no one else satisfied her sexual appetite like Logan. She’d tried to find it with other lovers, but no matter how rough things got—and at times, it hadn’t been pretty—she never found the soul-deep connection she shared with him. Now, back in his arms, she realized it wasn’t the technique that made the difference; it was the man.
    As the kiss grew hotter, she grew more restless, and when his hand snaked inside her robe to pinch and tweak her nipple, she nearly shot off his lap. Breaking away from his lips, she kissed and sucked the side of his neck… his collarbone… down the center of his chest.
    He hissed and dropped back his head on a groan when she licked one nipple, teasing the other with her nail. His electric response injected her with an all-consuming need to touch and taste him everywhere, and she slid to the floor like Jell-O slipping out of a bowl.
    Reading her intentions, he lifted his hips and eased down his sweatpants as she pressed hot kisses to his stomach, his hipbone, then down to his thighs. Only he could satisfy her years of starvation, and the second her tongue swept over his engorged head and she got her first familiar taste, her eyes closed with rapturous delight and she nearly wept with joy as memories and emotions assaulted her.
    When his fingers speared her hair, locking her in place, she flipped her gaze up to meet his. His eyes were nearly closed, but the heat and desire blasting from him was unmistakable.
    “Open wide, baby.” She eagerly followed the command, but when she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, he surprised her by shaking his head no. “Grab the front legs of the chair.” A cocky, lopsided grin curved his mouth, causing the scar over his upper lip to pull tight. “And hold on tight.”
    Oh God. Yes, yes, yes. The chant echoed through her brain as he flexed his hips and pushed into her mouth. The burn in her lips and jaws as they stretched to accommodate his size was a welcome discomfort, and she took a slow, deep breath while allowing her throat muscles to relax.
    “Damn, baby girl. That mouth of yours is still amazing.”
    She whimpered in protest when he slowly withdrew, then moaned with pleasure as he pushed back in. With each thrust, he fed her a little more, and she shuffled forward on her knees, trying to get as close as possible so she could take all of him.
    “Christ, Lizbeth, your mouth should be registered as one of the world’s greatest wonders.”
    She would’ve laughed if said mouth hadn’t been so gloriously full. Her palms tingled with the need to touch him. To run her hands along his thighs and feel the raw strength and power of them as he drove into her… or cup his balls in her palm to increase his pleasure. But more than that, she wanted to bask in the glory of pleasuring Logan by following his rules, so she tightened her grip on the legs of the chair and held on tight.
    The angle of her head limited her sight, so rather than trying to see his face, she concentrated on the view before her: still-toned abs, rock-hard thighs, and the occasional peek of his cock before it slammed back into her mouth again.
    His muscles contracted a little tighter with each thrust, and her excitement grew as he inched closer to orgasm. Her bag of tricks for pushing him over the edge was limited since she couldn’t use her hands, but she wasn’t completely incapacitated.