The Night Belongs To Lovers

by Lara Wilson

"Because the Night Belongs to Lovers" by 10000 Maniacs

Take me now baby here as I am Pull me close, try and understand
Desire is hunger is the fire I breath
Love is the banquet on which we feed

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel when I`m in your hand
Take my hand come undercover
They can`t hurt me now
can`t hurt you now
can`t hurt you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

Have I doubt when Im alone
Love is a ring on the telephone
Love is an angel disguised as lust
Here in our bed until the morning comes

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand when the sun descends
They can`t touch you now
Can`t touch you now
Can`t touch you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

Take me now baby here as I am
Pull me close, try and understand
Desire is hunger is the fire I breath
Love is the banquet on which we feed.

Her dad's out of town. Her need becomes too much.

A simple phone call brings him to her. It's dark and close in her room, shortly after midnight on a school night. As she closes the door behind him, she can smell him, all heat and man and Logan. There's a hint of salt and sea, beer and nachos, and, of course, lust.

His scent turns her on. When he leans close and she's enveloped by that delicious combination of aromas, she's lost. Her knees buckle and she clings to him, drawing his mouth to hers in a kiss nowhere near innocent.

Lips locked, tongues dueling, moans swallowed, they drop to their knees, the carpet in her tiny bedroom muffling any sound.

His hands slide up her back, peeling her perspiration slick top from her heated skin. The air conditioning is on the fritz and the breeze oozing through the open window is humid. The fan does nothing to cool them down.

Breaking the kiss, Veronica tugs his t-shirt over his head, then splays her hands across his chest as her lips find the hollow of his throat. She feels the muscles shift beneath her fingers, his heart begin to race, and she bites, gently, smiling as he moans helplessly. He hardens against her belly and she revels in the power she has over him.

"Veronica...we shouldn't..."

She ignores him, not even wondering why he's making a protest. He does it every time.

And every time, he gives in to her touch.

They're not together. They're not boyfriend and girlfriend. There's nothing that sweet and young about them. He's still having his tawdry affair with Kendall the cheerleading tramp. She's still with...Duncan.

Logan had been right with his snide comment about cuddling, but she'd been the one to go to him the first time. When they'd been together, they'd never taken that crucial step. Too many crises, too much angst. She'd turned to Duncan for normalcy.

And she'd gotten...not what she needed.

Shaking away thoughts of Duncan, ignoring the tiny pang of guilt that she refuses to accept, Veronica pushes Logan to his back and straddles him. Rising over him, she pulls her top over her head, unhooks and tosses away her bra. Her breasts are in his hands before she can take another breath and his touch makes her moan. His fingers pull at her hard nipples, making them tingle and ache. Her womb clenches and her clit throbs and she wants him so very much.

Wriggling and rolling, they divest each other of the rest of their clothes, until nude and glistening with sweat, they clutch each other and hungrily kiss.

Veronica's the one to reach for a condom in the hidden stash under her bed. As she lifts herself off him, she takes his cock in one hand and rolls the latex sheath down the shaft. Leaning down, she presses a kiss to his taut stomach, then guides his cock into her body.

She's so hot and wet and ready she sinks down easily. His knees rise to support her back and his hands return to her breasts.

Their eyes meet and hold for a long, breathless moment, all their lust and need shining from them, then she closes hers and rocks her hips.

"Veronica," Logan breathes, a low groan of pleasure as her inner muscles clench and caress and her nipples react eagerly to his fingers.

Her response is a whimper as she bites back the desire to yell. Her father's out but the walls are thin and the neighbors are nosy, which is why they always have sex on the floor and not the squeaky bed.

The open window is risky but their lust for each other is too great, so the remain as quiet as possible.

The forced quiet makes the sex more erotic than ever.

Veronica shudders, her pelvis smacking against his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Her breath hisses from her as she moves faster, feels him arch up to meet her. He's grunting, the sound so soft it's nearly drowned out by the wet slapping, and she bends down, kisses him again into silence. As her body shifts, her clit rubs against him in just the right place, and she feels her muscles tighten and the pleasure peak.

As she comes, Logan eats her cries, his hands on her hips, guiding her through her orgasm, building his own.

When he comes, he collapses with a groan, shaking from head to foot, exhausted and sated.

Veronica sprawls on top of him, breathing hotly into his neck, until the stickiness and heat becomes too uncomfortable and she pushes herself off him. Her body's still trembling and it's hard to catch her breath, but she feels so good.

She also desperately wants a shower.

Rising to her feet makes her stagger and his chuckle earns him a glower.

"You try it."

"Nah, I prefer the view from down here." He pillows his head on his hands and watches her butt as she leaves her room for the tiny bathroom next door. As he hears the shower start, he gets an idea and levers himself to his feet, staggering just a bit, too. Disposing of the used condom, he grabs another one and goes to join her beneath the lukewarm spray.

Later they lay in her bed beneath a loosened sheet, the only sound her fan oscillating and stirring the warm, lust-scented air. Their hands are clasped, their heads close together on one pillow, but they don't speak.

There's not much to say. They don't have a relationship. They aren't in love. They have sex-- great, mind-blowing sex--and outside of bed snark at each other and pretend to hate each other. Outside of bed, she's dating his best friend and he's jealous and hateful.

In the dark of night they are lovers but Veronica knows that by the time the sun breaks the horizon, Logan will be gone.

Until another night when the tension and lust becomes too unbearable for both of them and they seek each other out and it begins all over again.

End

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