E. Montes - Perfectly Damaged

You can’t let it go.

Because deep down you know without it you’re nothing .

Lifeless .

This is madly, passionately, and without a doubt falling in love.

With every part of me, I’m falling in love.

And now that I have it, I just want to grip on to it for dear life. Because I know once it’s gone, I’ll be back to where I started: in a tomb, feeling numb . Before Logan, I thought if I stripped away any chance of feeling at all, I could keep myself from getting hurt. But I’d rather feel every single emotion, where it pains me so much to love, than feel nothing at all.

Logan makes me feel alive .

I’ve fallen in love with this man, this man that looks past my imperfections and accepts me .

I want to give him all of me. I’m in love with him. I am truly, without a doubt, deeply in love with Logan. It’s a feeling I thought I had experienced before with Eric. A feeling I thought I knew. But I never really knew this feeling. What I have for Logan sits deep in my chest, rooted at the center of my heart, submerged and hidden for no one else but him. It’s within my soul.

If I die today, my soul will forever be his.

So many emotions twirl deep within me. Tears filled with the love I have for this man obscure my vision. I’m unable to control it any longer. Sitting up, I lean in, shutting my eyes as I kiss him. The tears collect along my lashes and drip down my cheeks. Logan sucks in a breath as he awakens. It doesn’t take him long before he registers what’s happening and his lips respond, perfectly united with mine.

It’s a kiss unlike any we’ve ever shared. It’s sensuous yet obsessive and urgent. Though he’s taken off guard, he doesn’t pull away. His lips naturally mold to my mouth as if kissing me is the most natural thing in the world. He tenderly sucks on my bottom lip, gently tugging my flesh between his teeth. I lose control. I need to be near him, closer. Never breaking contact, I position myself across his lap, straddling him.

In the dark lit room, his hands find their way up and frame my tearstained face. He brushes his thumbs along my moist cheeks, but when he realizes I’ve been crying, he tries to pull away. I force our lips to hold. I don’t want to lose his touch. “Why are you crying?” he mumbles against my mouth, his fingers gripping at my face.

“Because of you ,” I hum against his lips. “Because of you… I love you, Logan.” Tears sting the corner of my eyes. I shut them tightly and dig my nails into the flesh of his shoulder blade, pulling his chest against mine.

He groans at my confession. Dropping his hold from my face, Logan grips my thighs and grinds me against him. I whimper as I feel his immense hard-on. The two thin cotton layers of our pajama bottoms are the only things interfering with what we both clearly desire.

Logan slightly lifts my shirt. His fingertips taunt the flesh of my hipbone, lingering, but he doesn’t attempt to go farther up. He’s trying not to lose control within our kiss. Our tongues savor this moment in slow, long licks. He tastes sweet and salty, and I want more . A strong pull, a tug deep below my waist, pushes me closer to him.

I want to feel his skin against mine.

I want to experience his touch.

I want his lips on every inch of my flesh.

My nails rake through his hair. My breathing grows rapid; I try to catch my breath, but our kiss intensifies. I weep over his mouth—with one hand, I grab his wrist and dare him to explore under the hem of my shirt; but he maintains his hold on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin there. Does he not want this?

I pull away, my lids flash open. His hooded eyes burn with want. I shake my head, confused. “Don’t you want me?” I pant out.

Logan sucks in a breath and blows it out roughly between his words. “I want you so fuckin’ bad”

His words kindle a throbbing pleasure below my waist. I grind, rubbing against him. I slowly rotate my hips, feeling the swell in his pants. He certainly wants me, and as wet as I am, I want him just as much. “Then why are you holding back?” In a bold gesture, I tug at his wrists. He releases his hold on my hips and allows me to guide him underneath my shirt. At the hint of my bare skin, he groans, and I match it with a charged exhale as his fingertips dust a scorching trail along my flesh. I guide him up my sides, around my back, and on to the clasp of my bra strap.

His fingers linger. “Jersey Girl.” He hisses, sucking in a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. I can’t—”

“I want this, Logan,” I cut him off. I gently rest the palm of my hands along his chest. “I want this more than anything.”

Before we can utter any more words, we lose our breath as our lips collide. His hand still grazes the clasp of my bra, wavering. Within a heartbeat, he unclips it. Finally. My breath hitches.

This is it.

This is really happening.

Heart racing, I pull away, gripping the edge of my shirt and tugging it over my head. I moisten my lips and stare down at him. So much is written in his eyes. He’s panting as his stormy blues dance around my face. It’s as if he’s mesmerized by every single carving of my features; and he seems to be analyzing what’s going through my head at this moment. I lift my hands and remove the straps of my bra, slowly dragging them down my arms and exposing my swollen breasts.

Logan’s struggling, fighting back the urge to lose control. He sucks in his bottom lip, stalling for time. His gaze drops down to my chest, but he doesn’t make a move. He brings his eyes back up to mine as if he’s seeking approval. I smile and lightly nod, wanting him to, needing him to. Desire has completely taken over. I need a stronger connection.

An intimate connection.

His hands softly slide up the side of my torso, and I arch my back, rocking against him as his fingers graze over my ribs. Logan stops just beneath my breasts. There’s a long pause between us where nothing but the sound of our panting can be heard. His lustful stare penetrates through mine, shooting flames of longing deep into my belly. His tongue darts out over his dry lips and he traces his thumbs over my nipples. Before I can react, Logan rolls us over so that my back is flush against the mattress.

He quickly removes his clothes and kneels before me, totally naked, and without a doubt the most beautiful male I have ever laid eyes on. Aching for him, I reach down to remove my bottoms, but his hand stops me. I freeze. My heart’s pounding and I’m trying to figure out what—he pulls at the string of my pants, hooking his fingers over the sides by my waist, and gently tugs them down along with my panties. They’re on the floor in a matter of seconds.

Logan touches and caresses me with his eyes, learning every inch of my bare skin. And I allow him to. I’m entirely naked before him, embracing every part of this perfect experience. For so long, I wondered at what it would feel like to be exposed before Logan Reed, to bare it all and have him soak in every fragment of my being.

I thought I’d be scared or ashamed because of who I am, because of the darkness that is a part of me. But in this moment, as affection pools in his eyes and acceptance in his heart, I feel nothing but free . Until now I hadn’t realized that Logan has been undressing me from the very first time we met. Slowly, layer-by-layer, he removed the facade that hid the real me beneath. The me I thought would always be concealed. But not anymore.

My love for him surges. The separation between us is too much. I sit up, my hand wraps around his neck, and I pull him down to me, connecting our lips once again. Instantly, we’re back in a trance, lost in our kiss, savoring each stride. I fall back onto the mattress, bringing his body down with mine, enthralled by the beat of his heart along my chest.