Chapter 12: The Logbook

His mouth was slow, and then it was not.

I grabbed the edge of the desk above my head and found the leg of it with one hand.

He held my hips down with both of his and made me feel every second.

His tongue pressed flat against my clit.

I heard a sound come out of me that I had never made out loud.

"Talbot."

"Louder."

"Talbot, please."

He hummed against me, pleased, and sucked.

My thighs shook on either side of his shoulders.

I came so hard that the lamp on the desk above me swam.

I said his name into the dark room until my throat hurt.

He kept his mouth on me through all of it, easing me down.

I lay boneless on the rug.

Then he sat up, with his mouth wet and his hair wrecked.

He looked at me as if he didn't believe I was real.

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him over me.

"Now," I said.

"Carrie."

"I mean it. I want you inside me. Now."

He unbuckled his belt with one hand, and I helped him with the other.

His cock was hot and hard in my palm.

He groaned as I stroked him.

"Look at me," he said.

I looked.

He pushed his cock into my wet pussy in one long thrust, and we both cried out.

For a moment he did not move.

His forehead rested against mine, and his arms shook on either side of my head.

"You feel," he said, and stopped.

"What?"

"I don't have a word for it."

I wrapped my legs around his waist and rolled my hips.

"Then fuck me, and find one."

He laughed, helplessly, against my mouth.

Then he began to fuck me, his cock sliding deep into my wet pussy, and the laugh turned into something else.

He fucked me on the studio floor, with my sweater shoved to my collarbones.

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