Authors: Elizabeth Finn
What most people consider foreplay was how we made love for the better part of a year, and we do this so well together. I’ve needed the taste of him on my tongue, and I’ve needed the touch of his tongue on my most intimate parts. This is how we found intimacy when making love wasn’t possible, and complete in one another we drift off to sleep. I am complete. Not just satiated and relieved of my need; I’m complete. I have everything I need, and the promise of more to come. He belongs to me now.
Chapter 31
When I wake it is morning, and sunlight is filtering in through the windows. I panic for a moment when I realize he’s gone, thinking perhaps it was all a dream. But as my eyes take in these new surroundings, I’m comforted by how much Logan’s imprint is everywhere. The sheets smell of him, his clothes from the night before are lying over the nearby chair, and his furniture is all here. I can smell coffee brewing somewhere in this strange new house, and it beckons me as only coffee can. As I sit up, I realize my dress is no longer on the floor, and I’ve been left with nothing to put on. Fortunately, Logan’s clothes are already put away in the chest of drawers, and I grab a T-shirt, pulling it over my head.
As I look around at the room, I find it is large with the beautiful, thick, old woodwork of the time period. There is a bank of four windows overlooking the front yard that is shaded in two huge oak trees. The bed sits along the back wall of the room facing the front windows. The headboard is situated between two dormer windows that look out over the back yard, which I now see is also surrounded by the same black iron fence. It is large and well manicured with a paving stone patio. The walls are a warm tan color and empty at this point of any artwork. There is a connected bathroom that includes a soaker tub, a separate shower, and a double sink as well. The bathroom has obviously been renovated, but appropriate small hexagonal tiles were used on the floor, and there is a perfect subway tile on the walls of the shower and tub. I appraise myself in the mirror before running a comb through my hair.
As I leave the bedroom, I see two more bedrooms on the other side of the hall across from the open stairwell. There is a bathroom situated between the two rooms. When I hop the last of the stairs that end at the entryway of the house, I’m finally able to explore the downstairs. The house is filled with unpacked boxes and Logan’s furniture. Off to one side of the stairs is an office with a desk and more boxes. On the other side of the stairs is a large great room that is open to the kitchen. It has high ceilings with cross beams showing. There is a large picture window looking out over the front yard and porch. The kitchen is open with a large island in the center.
Logan is just pouring himself a cup of coffee, and as he sees me approach he pours me a cup as well, leaning down to kiss me sweetly. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of old sweatpants, and as he moves away from me to carry some dirty dishes to the sink, I admire his strong and beautiful back muscles that taper perfectly down to his trim waist. I have to peel myself away from this view to continue exploring his new home. Off the kitchen, and along the opposite back corner of the house, sits the formal dining room. It has a new mission style table and chairs that seat six, with two additional chairs in the corners. Again, the ceiling is high, and a beautiful stained glass chandelier hangs over the table. The room is spacious with lots of windows and French doors that open to the paving stone patio beyond. There is a small half bath between the kitchen and the dining room in the landing that contains another door to the back yard and the stairs leading to the basement. The paint in the downstairs is as neutral as it is upstairs, and the same thick, old woodwork continues throughout the house.
As I return to the kitchen, Logan regards me with a raised eyebrow. He wants to know what I think, and as I smile excitedly at him he breathes a sigh of relief. He was worried I wouldn’t like his new home, and I’m struck with just how vulnerable he can be sometimes. I have so many things I want to say to him. My heart is overrun with joy that I had truly given up having in my life, and I want him to know just how much all of this means to me. But I don’t know where to begin.
In my usual absurd fashion, I just start rambling. “Logan, I love it. It’s perfect … beautiful. I still can’t believe you’re here.” And as I approach him, he lifts me to the counter, pulling my knees apart and pushing his way between my legs.
“Rowan, I need to say something to you.” Worry etches my face at his words before he clutches my cheeks softly in his hands and hastily continues, needing to reassure me. “I love you. There is no question in my mind that I want to spend my life with you, but I need you to understand…” He’s choosing his words carefully. “I’m still worried you’re too young to make that type of decision right now.” My face scrunches up as I start to object, to reassure
him
, but he stops me before I can say a word. He wants to be heard, and difficult as it is I’m going to have to be patient. “I’m terrified you may think this is what you want right now, but you may not a year or two from now. And that’s a fear I’ll have to live with until I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to decide for certain if you want your life to be with me. But I’ll deal with that. You don’t owe me forever right now, but God, I hope you’ll give it to me willingly some day.”
Well, so long as we’re giving speeches, I launch in on my own. “I love you, too … and not because I’m some flighty, emotional kid prone to flighty, emotional decisions. I know what I want, and if you don’t believe I could want to spend the rest of my life with you, then I’ll have to spend every moment I get with you convincing you otherwise.” At that, a wicked smile crosses his face. “The past couple of months have been … agony. Gut-wrenching pain. I’m just not good at being away from you.”
“So my family has told me…” The quizzical look that crosses my face is all the question required for him to explain. “Sara’s been worried sick—mom has been, too. They knew something was wrong but just didn’t quite get it until I filled them in. I assure you, Colorado was filled with my own torture, too. I know how impossible it is to be apart.” He smiles gently, sharing this understanding.
“Logan, what exactly did you tell your family?”
“I made the decision to move back the second I saw you in the hospital. But I didn’t tell anyone until I had a job offer on the table and knew for sure when I’d be moving. I told mom and dad on the phone. Mom already suspected something had happened between us, but she had no idea we’d lived together for the better part of the past year. They weren’t thrilled we’d been lying for so long, but I think they understood my reasons for having you there—even if they didn’t necessarily agree with my decision not to involve them. I didn’t tell them every last detail of our relationship, but I’m guessing they don’t think we were just holding hands.” He says this last part with a sarcastic smile. “My parents told Sara about a week or so ago about my moving back and the reasons. I still can’t believe she managed to make it this long without saying anything to you.”
“But what about Colorado? You’ve wanted that for so long, and now you’ve given it all up?”
“Colorado will be there in four years.” He smiles challengingly.
“That’s a good point I suppose.”
“Yeah? Well, you can thank my mom for it. She’s the one that said it… Not that I wasn’t completely set on abandoning it already. Do you suppose you’d ever be interested in moving there with me some day?”
“You gave up your entire dream of living there for me. Hell yeah, I’ll move there for you.”
At that, I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him greedily. But as my lips claim his, he suddenly pulls away and looks at me. “Just so you know, I’m going to be poor for a while.” He raises his eyebrows as a small smile creeps across his face. The question in my eyes is all he needs. “Oh, and I might get sued for breach of contract … but probably not. Hopefully…” The smile remains on his lips, and it is apparent whatever concern he may have about this financial/legal issue he may or may not face is the last thing on his mind at the moment. And then he explains.
Apparently, breaking contracts with law firms is frowned upon in the industry. Though he doubts they’ll put any substantial legal force behind it, he will end up paying a year’s salary to them for breaking his contract early, and that year’s salary is, or should I say was, pretty excessive. Given the fact he’ll be paid far less, still far more than I can fathom, at his new job in the public sector, he’s expecting it to take a few years to settle his contract buy out. And even after telling me all of this, he’s still smiling. I love this man. I’m still in awe of the fact he actually loves me, too—loves me enough, in fact, to go broke to get back to me. There will never be a day I don’t want to be with him, and I hope he’ll realize it sooner rather than later. It’s difficult to stomach the idea of him questioning that for the foreseeable future, for no other reason than the fact I’m eighteen and not twenty-five. But convincing him of my feelings for him will absolutely be a most exquisite pastime. And there’s no time like the present.
*
Our kisses turn desperate and passionate in no time, and as swiftly as I moved her to the counter, I lift her back up and carry her through to the dining room, settling myself in one of the armless side chairs. She’s straddling me with nothing on but an old T-shirt of mine. I lift my hips swiftly and pull my sweatpants down my legs and past my knees to drop to the floor where I step out of them. I pull her T-shirt over her head and take in her body in the morning sunlight. The houses are far enough apart, and lots of trees separate the yards, so I don’t have to worry about sharing her with my neighbors. I want her badly; my desire from so much time apart hasn’t diminished in the least, and it will be some time before I stop wanting to make up for lost time with her.
I make sure she’s not too sore to make love again, which she assures me she’s not, before standing her up, turning her around, and bending her over the table. I’m left with the most amazing view of her ass and the lips of her pussy at the juncture of her legs. I brush my knuckles over the lips, which sends a shiver through her entire body. I then dust kisses over her bottom and the backs of her thighs. When I ask her to spread her legs, she doesn’t hesitate before stepping her legs out to the side. She’s equally obliging when I ask her to spread her lips open for me.
Once finished, I have an incredible view of her waiting pink entry, and I can barely restrain my fingers from invading her body. But I manage to keep my fingers out of her and instead lower my mouth to her hole, plunging my tongue inside. I lick around the entry as she moans quietly, and when I finish with her pussy, my mouth finds its way up to her ass. I press her cheeks open and spit on my finger as I caress the tight puckered skin of her anus. She holds her breath in nervousness. It may not be the first time I’ve tasted her here, but it still gives her pause when I do.
I put my mouth on her anus and lave the tight hole with my tongue before pushing my tongue past the tight ring of her incredibly private entry. She moans again as she adjusts to my intrusion, and as soon as she relaxes to my mouth I push my finger past the tight rim of her anus and into the smooth, hot passage of her rectum. She tenses again, but as I push and pull slowly and shallowly in and out, she begins to adjust again to my new touch. I add more spit to my finger working the wetness into her hole, wanting to slide easily in and out.
And when I’m done with her bottom, I stand her back up, turn her to face me, and pull her back down to straddle my hips. She looks at me shyly, still weary but accepting of my close attention to her backside. I want her to ride me, and I want to watch as she impales her tight hole on my cock. I reach for her calves, planting her feet on the side rungs of the chair before clutching her hips and raising her bottom off my lap. She reaches back to the table behind her to stabilize herself, and as I use one of my hands to guide my cock to her pussy, she knows what I want.
She slides her entry down the shaft of my cock incredibly slowly as we both admire the beauty of our coupling. She hisses as she reaches her limit and pushes down hard against my body. She lifts her body slowly as I watch my cock withdraw from her passage, and she moves her hand down, spreading the lips of her vagina so we can see every inch of our joined bodies. It is exquisite. She is stretched taught around my shaft, and as the entry of her body meets the head of my penis it pops past the taught skin of her hole. I guide my cock once more to her entry as she pushes down over my erection.
After many more agonizingly slow and incredibly intimate penetrations, our rhythm quickens. But she continues to hold her body angled back from mine so we can watch the penetration together. Her breathing is speeding up, and I know she’s close to her threshold. As I approach my own, I pull her body to my chest and tilt my hips upward, sliding my ass down the seat. She rides me now, holding on to the back of the chair, and our bodies close, and as she continues to slide up and down my cock I grab the cheeks of her ass and gently but insistently force my finger into her still wet anus.
Her body freezes with shock and a gasp passes her lips, but I don’t withdraw. I leave my finger buried in her anus, demanding she fuck me. And she starts to move again. I wiggle my finger and thrust with shallow and gentle movements as she fucks my cock, and when she comes she cries out, clutching my shoulders—digging her fingernails into my skin. And as I come I lift her swiftly from my cock, pulling her body tight to mine, releasing streams of cum between our bodies as I clutch her close to me.
She snuggles into my neck, and I hold her tightly in my arms, and she speaks. “I don’t suppose you know where my clothes are?”
I chuckle against her neck before responding. “I tossed them in the wash this morning. They’re drying. I thought that was better than letting you wear a dress covered in cum when my family shows up in a while.”
“Good thinking… Speaking of your family, what is the plan today?”
“They’re bringing lunch and will stay to help unpack and organize. Sara’s coming, too, of course. They’ll go home tonight.”