Page 52 of The Alpha's Sin
Then I feel him parting my lips, revealing my inner folds. For some reason, he frowns.
My heart stutters in my chest at the expression on his face.
“Is…is everything all right?” I falter.
“Yeah, baby.” His voice is calm, though thoughtful. “I just thought I came a lot inside you—felt like I was shooting a gallon of my seed in your tight little pussy. But I don’t see much at all.”
“Is…is that a bad thing?” My voice is small, uncertain.
“No, baby—it’s fine. No big deal.” His eyes soften. “Are you ready for me to give your soft little pussy a tongue bath now? Inside—nice and deep?”
I nod quickly, relief flooding me.
“Yes, please.”
He gives me a hungry grin.
“Such a polite little kitten. Always saying ‘please’ when you need to be fucked or licked.”
His dirty words send a new shiver of need down my spine. I don’t know how to answer him, but he’s already back to bathing me with his tongue.
His mouth returns to me, and I arch my back with a helpless moan. He laves my inner pussy slowly, reverently, teasing my clit with each stroke until I’m trembling.
The pleasure builds differently this time—slower, sweeter, like a wave rolling in from far out at sea. When it finally crests, I cry out, bucking against his tongue as it crashes over me.
“Oh, God, Logan!” I moan his name like a prayer.
Logan holds me steady, his hands on my hips to keep me from bucking, guiding me through the pleasure and licking me until I collapse in the sheets, trembling and gasping.
When I finally look down, his eyes are lazy with lust and his mouth is shiny with my juices.
“God, I love the taste of us mixed together,” he growls. “And you were such a good girl, spreading your pussy for me so I could give you a tongue bath.”
I blush fiercely, but the praise makes me glow inside. No one’s ever praised me before. No one’s ever wanted to taste me, to make me feel good and safe.
“I…I want to be your good girl,” I confess.
“You already are, baby.” He places a sweet, hot kiss on my inner thigh.
Suddenly, I can’t wait any more. I hold out my arms, shivering now that the heat of my orgasm is fading.
“I’m cold—come warm your good girl up,” I beg softly.
Logan doesn’t hesitate. He climbs into bed beside me, sliding his big, hard body close, wrapping me up tight in his long, muscular arms. I rest my head on his broad chest, listening to the deep, steady beat of his heart.
I feel utterly content—utterly safe.
And though neither of us dares to say the words, I feel it anyway—I feel loved.
With that thought, I drift off to sleep in his arms.
41
LOGAN
The first thing I notice when I wake is warmth. Soft, delicate, perfect warmth curled in my arms.
Poppy.
