Chapter 25: Fucking Caroline 2
He fucked her like that for long minutes, never rushing, never giving her the frantic pace she seemed to be starting to crave.
Every time her moans climbed higher he slowed just enough to keep her from tipping over, grinding deep instead, rolling his hips so the base of his cock rubbed her clit on every stroke.
The wetness between them grew louder, messier. Slickness coated his thighs and dripped onto the duvet.
When he finally pulled out it was sudden. Caroline made a needy sound of protest. Logan didn’t give her time to form words.
He flipped her onto her stomach with easy strength, hauled her hips up until she was on her knees, chest pressed to the mattress, ass presented high.
He spread her open with both hands, admiring the way her pussy fluttered, still stretched and glistening from him. Then he lined up again and sank back in with one smooth thrust that forced a sharp cry from her.
This angle let him go deeper. He gripped her hips hard enough to leave faint marks and began to thrust in earnest—longer, harder strokes that made the mattress creak and her body rock forward with every impact.
The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. Caroline’s fingers clawed at the sheets. Her moans had turned into a continuous, broken stream of sound, half words, half pure need.
Logan leaned over her back, one hand sliding under her to cup a swaying breast, pinching and rolling the nipple while he fucked her. His mouth found the side of her neck, teeth grazing, tongue soothing.
The skill kept every touch electric. Caroline’s body shook under him, thighs trembling, pussy clenching tighter and tighter around his cock.
He kept the relentless pace until her orgasm finally crashed through her—hard, shaking, a long cry muffled against the duvet as her walls pulsed and fluttered wildly around him. Logan didn’t stop.
He fucked her through it, drawing the climax out until she was whimpering, oversensitive, still pushing back against him as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted more or relief.
Only when the last tremors eased did he slow. He stayed buried deep, hips rolling in small, grinding circles while she caught her breath. His hand stroked down her spine, soothing, possessive.
"We’re not finished," he murmured against her ear. "Not even close."
He eased out of her carefully. Caroline collapsed onto her side, chest heaving, legs weak.
Logan stood, cock still rigid and shining with her release, and walked to the en-suite bathroom door. He left it open. The soft sound of water running filled the quiet for a moment as he turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature.
When he returned he simply scooped her up again—one arm under her knees, the other around her back—and carried her toward the steam already beginning to curl from the bathroom.
Caroline’s head rested against his shoulder. Her voice was soft, almost dazed. "Logan... the door..."
"Already locked," he answered, stepping into the warm, humid air of the bathroom. "No one’s coming in. You’re mine for the rest of the afternoon."
He set her on her feet on the cool tile just outside the glass shower enclosure. Water cascaded inside, steam rising.
Logan’s hands moved to the remaining clothes still hanging off her body—skirt, open shirt, ruined bra—and peeled them away until she stood completely bare.
His eyes traveled over her slowly: the flush across her chest, the marks already forming on her hips from his grip, the shiny evidence of how thoroughly he’d already used her.
He guided her under the spray. Hot water sluiced over both of them, rinsing away the sweat and slickness of the bedroom.
Logan’s hands followed the water’s path, soaping her skin with deliberate care—shoulders, breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, the insides of her thighs. Every touch lingered.
When his soapy fingers slid between her legs again she shivered, still sensitive, yet her hips tilted toward him almost helplessly.
The Perverted Hands skill made even the gentle cleansing feel intense. Caroline braced one hand against the tiled wall, the other against his chest, eyes half-closed under the falling water.
Logan rinsed the soap away, then dropped to one knee in front of her again. The water ran down his back and shoulders as he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder, opening her to his mouth once more.
He licked her slowly this time—long, thorough strokes meant to soothe and stoke at the same time.
Caroline’s fingers threaded into his wet hair. Soft, helpless sounds echoed off the tiles. Logan took his time, tasting her under the warm spray, tongue dipping inside, circling her clit with patient attention until her breathing grew ragged again and her standing leg began to tremble.
Only then did he stand. He turned her to face the wall, guided her hands up to press flat against the cool tile above her head, and kicked her feet apart gently.
The head of his cock found her entrance from behind once more. He pushed in slowly, watching the way her body accepted him, the way her back arched under the falling water. Once he was fully seated he began to move—deep, measured thrusts that made soft wet sounds beneath the rush of the shower.
One hand slid around to cup her breast, the other dipped lower to stroke her clit in time with his hips.
Caroline’s forehead rested against the tile. Her moans mixed with the water, low and continuous. Logan kept the pace steady, unhurried, building her again with the same relentless patience he’d shown in the bedroom.
The steam thickened around them. Water streamed down their joined bodies. Every time she tightened around him he felt it multiplied, the skill turning the simple act of fucking her under the shower into something almost overwhelming for them both.
He leaned in close, lips against the shell of her ear, voice rough with restraint.
"I’m going to keep you in here until your legs give out. Then I’m going to carry you back to that bed and start all over again. Understand?"
Caroline’s answer was a broken, breathless sound that might have been his name. Logan smiled against her wet skin and thrust deeper, settling in for the long, thorough claiming he had promised.