Core Drive: A Westworld Story

Reverie 2015-G: Joy

Joy let out a breathy laugh as she tightened the fuzzy cuffs around Logan's wrists. He tugged on them for good measure and the headboard shook lightly.

"I should get you out of the office more often, dove," he bit his lip in that way that made Joy's mind raced with the most lascivious thoughts.

"Would've been hard to do since your secretary told me you were in Milan," She eyed him with cheek, a little vexation hiding behind her blush.

Logan saw it and relaxed further into the pillows, "Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?"

"Maybe you are," She kissed his neck and moved lower down, unbuttoning his silk shirt at the same time. Logan let out an approving moan when she reached his belt. The sound of the buckle unclasping was like an erotic rush across her body.

She'd been so overworked and dog-tired lately, she didn't know just how desperate she was for an escape from work and the slow brewing chaos that was unfolding in Theresa and Arnold's marriage. To think, all Logan had to do after a week of radio silence was send her a raunchy text to get her knocking on his door at two in the afternoon.

Joy was so wound up in her thoughts, she barely noticed how quickly she'd done away with their clothes. She could see the veins on his dick throb with anticipation. It was easy to imagine that delicious escape that awaited her once she slid down onto him. How all-consuming their sex tended to be. No thought besides what was unfolding in Logan's lavish bedroom.

She could feel the heat of him all the way down to her uvula when she took him in her mouth. The headboard made straining noises as she tasted every inch of him, fingers bracing down on her thumb to keep from gagging. He tasted of pre-cum and the headiness of arousal. Logan let out a grunt, and Joy trailed her fingers as high up as they could go, nails toying with the dark hairs on his chest.

Their sex was different this time around. Joy took the reins, snaking her waist and setting the pace. Logan seemed to revel in her.

"Enough... teasing, dove," Logan could barely get the words out, his tone was airy, light and full of desire. The cuffs made a clanking sound as he tugged against them. "The cuffs. I want to touch you."

Joy laughed, tickling his ear with a breathy moan, "Beg."

"Fuck... You are something else, you know that?"

"I do."

"Please, dove, let me touch you."

Joy undid his restraints, making sure to give him a show of her soft breasts gliding over his chest. He groaned, deeply.

Logan was careful to knot his fingers through her hair so he wouldn't disturb the delicate way her curls spiralled. He tugged, beckoning her to stop her slow torture. As if to drive him to the edge, she took him deeper into her mouth, until she let out a tantalising gasp. "Jesus. Christ. Joy!"

Joy looked at Logan's face, contorted in exquisite pleasure. Mouth slick with saliva. Hair tousled from the friction of the pillow. Hand grasping at the sheets for dear life. A euphoric grin spreading across his face as their eyes met. She made a show of swallowing before his gaze.

In the breadth of that instant, where Logan's dark eyes seemed to cloud with the same heady fog that descended over Joy's, her heartrate picked up, fingertips prickling with a charged energy, and she became all too aware of the tender throb between her legs. Her thighs were slickened, as glossy as Logan's parted lips.

He hooked his index finger, calling her forward. "Come and kiss me, dove. I want a taste."

She did as he asked, moving catlike as she skimmed over his body, kissing a few pressure points that undulated with heat.