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reacting so strongly. Wanting him so much…
    She gritted her teeth and ground her pussy into the hard seat of the chair. She wanted relief, but she also wanted it to last as long as it could.
    She wanted more of this, more of him.
    “ More .” She didn't even recognize her own voice.
    One hand released her breast and slid along her belly to dip down into the loose boxer-briefs. Logan's fingers played along her damp pubic hair, close, but not touching where she needed him.
    Still blinded, she felt along his arms to his chest and brushed her palms over his nipples. His were just as hard as hers. She smiled into the darkness of the shirt.
    Punishment, her ass.
    She tweaked both of his nipples and tentatively flicked the nipple ring with a finger. She felt him shift. She'd had no idea that such a small piece of gold jewelry would make his nipple so sensitive. The ring was more than decoration; it was a source of pleasure. Or possibly pain?
    His finger found her hot button, and she forgot everything she had been doing.
    He circled her hard, supersensitive clit with his thumb, while parting her pussy lips with his index and middle fingers. Her hips surged forward. She wanted him in her. She didn't care what part of him, anything—fingers, tongue, cock. The emptiness inside her desperately needed to be filled. Now.
    His fingers played along her labia and continued to tease her clit, keeping a rhythm that made her rock her hips in time.
    “Fuck!” exploded from between her clenched teeth.
    His slick fingers found the small stretch of skin between her pussy and her anus, and he stroked it. He stroked back and forth, back and forth, occasionally touching her anus, making it clench, then back again to the edge of her pussy. Her pussy opened for him, wanting him, needing him.
    “I'm going to fuck you,” Logan murmured.
    She tried to clear her mind. Bring herself back to her senses. But she couldn't…
    “Okay.”
    “Not when you want. When I want.”
    “Okay.”
    His thumb dipped into her pussy slightly; her hips jerked forward to meet it.
    “Patience,” he murmured. She was shocked to find the heat of his breath right above her mouth. His lips brushed hers through the fabric. She'd never felt a kiss like this before. It was like kissing through a veil. The shirt prevented her from touching her tongue to his, from tasting him. His lips moved over hers, the cotton dampening from the contact.
    He pulled away, and Quinn felt a sudden sense of loss. She wanted to taste him without the barrier; she wanted to explore his lips, his tongue.
    He had other ideas for his mouth. He leaned over to cup her left breast; he raised it until she felt the suction of his hot mouth on her nipple. His tongue flicked against the hard tip, making her cry out.
    She arched her back more, raising her chest to him. He sucked and pinched and nipped her breast.
    Words were coming out of Quinn's mouth, but she had no idea what she was saying. She didn't even care. All she cared about was that he not stop.
    Logan slipped two fingers inside her at the same moment he bit down on her nipple. Quinn cried out and blindly reached out to him, making contact with his rib cage. She dug her nails into his skin as he plunged a third finger into her and pressed them as far as they would go. Her nails raked against him, and she felt him shudder.
    Her hips lifted off the chair, thrusting against his fingers; she was so wet and slick, they met no resistance.
    Then, unexpectedly, he was gone.
    He had stepped back out of her reach, and Quinn whimpered.
    Before she could protest, he lifted her out of the chair and pushed it out of the way. Once Logan set her on her feet, he nudged her forward until her hips jammed against the heavy wood table. With a hand on her back, he pushed her over. With one yank, his borrowed boxer-briefs pooled around her ankles, and cool air tickled her heated skin. He grabbed the back of the T-shirt and slipped it over her head so it was now around