Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Camden
Logan’s stare becomes downright blistering, two bronze pools of molten lust and desire, as I push off the bed to strip.
He watches me the whole time, eyes greedily taking in every inch of skin that’s exposed as I shed my clothing.
The only time he looks away is when he pulls his shirt off and leans over to his nightstand to grab the lube, but his gaze finds me again a few seconds later, still burning with need.
My heart thunders behind my ribs with every move I make, and there’s a sharp pain at the back of my throat when he offers me the bottle after crawling back onto the mattress.
My fingers tremble ever so slightly as I take it from him, only to stare at it like it’s a foreign object I’ve never seen before.
Part of me can’t believe this is happening—that he still wants me—even after stripping myself bare.
After explaining all my reservations and hang ups when it comes to sex, to relationships…
to this. And while those insecurities are far from gone with a single conversation alone, I keep replaying his words in my head, over and over.
“You’re not a night or two. Not to me.”
I’m terrified to put my trust in them, knowing promises like those are so easy to break, but I can’t bring myself to stop this path we’re barrelling down either. My want for him is too great to resist at this point, manifesting in a bone-deep ache I can’t ignore.
“How do you want me?” Logan whispers, drawing my attention back to him.
For all my uncertainty, he appears to be the picture of calm and secure. It’s a complete switch from our standard narrative, and for whatever reason, it puts me a little more at ease.
Taking a moment to think it over, I finally tell him, “On top.”
I shift on the bed and lean back against the headboard, only to notice his lips twitching into an amused smile.
“I’m pretty sure my fantasy included you doing the fucking.”
“And I will fuck you,” I promise, popping the cap on the lube. “But I wanna watch you ride my cock first.”
Logan being Logan, I’m prepared for another smart comment or rebuttal, but from the way his nostrils flare as his teeth snag his lower lip, he’s more than okay with the idea I’ve laid out.
Nerves have me dousing my cock with far more lube than necessary, and I spread the cool liquid up and down my shaft as he watches intently. And while he stares at my hand moving over my length, I wait for him to change his mind. For him to talk himself out of it.
For him to talk me out of it.
Yet there’s not a hint of hesitation in his gaze when it meets mine again, nor as he straddles my thighs, allowing me to position myself against his hole a couple seconds later.
It’s only when his palms curl around the sides of my neck, drawing my attention back to his face, that his expression flashes with the smallest bit of concern.
“You’re sure?”
My heart stumbles in my chest, but I smirk through the discomfort before murmuring, “I think that’s supposed to be my line, Little Reed.”
“I’m gonna take that as a yes?”
Pushing aside my apprehension, I nod in answer, and he graces me with one of those breath-stealing smiles.
His lips find mine in a searing kiss—one equal parts reassuring and passionate—as he slowly lowers himself down, allowing the blunt head to push past his rim.
A little moan comes out, though I don’t know if it’s him or me that makes it, before he lifts up and drops his hips again.
I slide in farther, about halfway this time, and the pressure around my cock is insane already, but it’s nothing compared to when he rolls his hips a few more times, fully sheathing me inside him.
He holds still, allowing his ass to adjust around me, but the pulsing heat has my eyes rolling back in my head.
“You’re so goddamn tight, Lo. Holy shit.”
He smirks as he goes to move again, but I grab hold of his hips, wanting to keep him still for a few seconds while basking in the tightest heat I’ve ever experienced.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asks instantly, and I shake my head.
“Not a damn thing. Just wanna feel you like this for a minute.”
There’s another damn smile before he kisses me again, with more hunger this time. More desperation and desire as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, stealing my ability to think—or rather, overthink.
Instead, it spurs mine into action, the two of them tangling together in a teasing, erotic dance of give and take. At some point, he starts moving, his hips lifting off me before sliding all the way back down, and I whimper into his mouth.
“I love that sound,” he murmurs against my lips after breaking the kiss. “I could listen to it all fucking day.”
He moves again, eliciting the same pathetic noise from me, but I don’t have it in me to be embarrassed.
I’m too lost in the way he feels wrapped around me, squeezing the daylights out of my cock.
In the way he looks as he leans back, pressing his palm against my sternum while slowly fucking himself up and down on my shaft.
His pupils are blown wide with desire, the black nearly taking over any remnants of brown, and I swear, I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life.
And it’s not just the way his body takes me, my entire length disappearing inside him.
It’s the confidence and certainty as he moves, driven by lust and need, that has pleasure flooding my veins until it reaches every inch of my extremities.
“You’re a sight to behold, Lo.”
“Yeah?” he muses, a haughty grin appearing. “You like watching me ride you? Seeing your cock disappear inside me every time I drop down?”
I nod, a little zap of lust shooting straight to my balls at his question.
“God, yes. I never want you to stop. Wanna just live inside you.”
“Mmm, I think that sounds like a great plan,” he agrees before lowering his mouth to mine. “I won’t even charge you rent as long as you make me come.”
A raspy chuckle leaves me, and not just because of his joke.
If he thinks I’d ever fuck him without getting him to come, he’s sorely mistaken. And if this first time is anything to go off of, we’re gonna be testing just how quick of a refractory period he has.
My palms skate over his smooth skin, first taking in every inch of his body, mapping and committing it to memory, before finding his cock.
The full length of him glides through my fist with ease as I stroke him in time with his thrusts, every little drop of his hips sending more sparks shooting through my extremities.
From the way his teeth bite into his lip while he moves over my length, I can tell he’s in the same boat—already struggling to hold his release at bay.
But I don’t want him holding back.
I wanna feel every ounce of his pleasure right alongside my own—watch as he falls apart on my cock while it’s deep inside him. And more than anything, I want him clinging to me after it’s over, every atom of our bodies melted together in a puddle of bliss.
I roll my palm over his tip, paying plenty of attention to his crown—to the little bundle of nerves beneath it that never fails to make him leak even more. His head falls back in pleasure from my ministrations while his hips arch forward, seeking more friction.
“God, that feels so good. You feel so fucking good.”
Spurred on by his words, I continue lavishing his cock with attention while his pace quickens, riding me a bit faster now, driving us both up the mountain toward the edge of impending bliss and ready to jump off the cliff into ecstasy.
Releasing him, my hands grip his thighs, tightening there as I start meeting his movements with thrusts of my own, fucking up into him with every drop of his hips.
Soft pants fall from his parted lips, and the hand not pressing on my chest takes over where I left off, wrapping around his dick and stroking.
“Oh, fuck. Baby, I…I—”
His incoherent babbling cuts off as I peg his prostate on an upward thrust, his expression shifting into a euphoric state: lips parted in pleasure, and hazy-eyed with lust. Pants and moans escape his sinful mouth as I drive into him, wanting nothing more than to see the look on his face when he finally falls apart.
And I can’t take it anymore.
Can’t wait another second to feel him clenching and pulsing around me, so I sit up, slide an arm around his lower back, and quickly flip our positions. Still seated inside him, I lose all control, my hips snapping forward at a frenzied pace. Fucking him harder.
Faster. Deeper.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. “Right there, baby. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”
As if I could fucking ever.
His hand moves at a frantic speed over his cock, bringing himself closer and closer to release with every stroke. More indecent sounds spill from his lips, and I lean forward, capturing them and swallowing the noises down with greed and hunger.
The new angle must change things for him—hitting in just the right spot—because his cries and moans become more pronounced, more carnal, ripping from his chest as I slam my hips forward with every thrust. They send my own need into overdrive, my hips pistoning into him relentlessly now.
Brutally, driven by nothing more than primal need.
“Cam. I…I—”
“Come for me, Lo. Let me feel you,” I plead, imploring him with my gaze. “I’m not gonna last much—”
I don’t even get the words out before he lets out a guttural moan unlike anything I’ve heard before, but is sure to remain locked in my memory for the rest of my life.
His ass squeezes around me as he comes, his release bursting from him, pooling on his chest as he strokes himself through his orgasm.
And the clamping, pulsing heat of his body is exactly what I needed to fall over the edge after him.
My climax takes hold of me, drawing a long, low groan from my chest as my pace falters, and I hold myself buried to the hilt. I almost collapse on him from the pleasure flowing down my spine like white-hot lava, barely able to hold my weight up on my forearms as I empty inside him.
He uses my proximity to his advantage, slipping a hand into my hair and taking possession of my mouth while I fill him with cum, claiming me as much as I am him.
And even after I’m fully wrung dry, I don’t move.
Don’t pull out. Don’t do anything but keep kissing him.
He doesn’t seem to mind, though, his lips and tongue melding with mine in a way that’s shifted from passionate need into something more leisurely and sweet.
Like neither of us can get enough of the other.
But when the sweat clinging to my back begins to cool, making me shiver, I finally find the strength to pull back just enough to see his face.
He’s still flushed from the orgasm high, bringing out the freckles dotting the apples of his cheeks, and his hair is a mess, damp with sweat and sticking up in all directions.
Shifting my weight to one arm, I brush some of the strands off his forehead, carefully checking him over.
“You okay?” I whisper. “I know I got a little rough there at the end.”
“A little?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his tone.
I let out a breathy laugh before brushing a kiss to his nose. “Okay, or a lot.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not one to complain about taking it a little rough.”
“Duly noted,” I murmur, smiling now. “I just hope you didn’t wake the girls all the way in the basement with how freaking loud you were.”
He chuckles, not the least bit embarrassed or self-conscious. If anything, he looks…freer. Happier, even. And it’s a high unlike any other, knowing it’s because of me.
“Yeah, it’s probably a good thing we have the floor to ourselves. God knows we wouldn’t hear the end of it if Bailey were here and we kept him up at all hours of the night.”
Arching a brow, I gripe, “Oh, so sacrificing my sleep schedule for sex is okay; it’s just Bailey’s that you draw the line at?”
“Mmm, but you reap the benefits from the lack of sleep. He wouldn’t.”
It’s fair logic, but I still let out a scoffing noise and shake my head before kissing him again.
I can’t seem to stop kissing him, actually.
Every time he looks at me, teases me, fucking breathes in my direction, I’m just filled with this need to plant one on those pouty lips I can’t stop thinking about.
Even after I pull away, it’s still there.
God, I’m so fucking screwed.
I’m talking ass up, balls deep, fucking screw—
“You’re not half bad for a late bloomer, by the way.”
The comment takes me by surprise, and I drop my forehead to his shoulder, shaking with laughter. “Ah, God. Well, thanks. Glad to know all the time I spent making up for it wasn’t completely in vain.”
“And I, for one, am grateful for it,” he says matter-of-factly. I can hear the smile in his voice before I lift up to see it for myself, and it makes me smile too. “Apparently you athletes are right about one thing: practice really does make perfect.”
“Careful, there, Lo. You’re treading awfully close to compliment territory. And giving it to a hockey player, no less.”
He covers my mouth, amusement shining in his eyes when he playfully whispers, “Shh, don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Oh, and we can’t have that,” I say from behind his palm, only for me to lick it.
He laughs, instantly pulling it away to wipe the saliva on my face. “Ugh, you’re a menace.”
But I’m your menace.
He’s right about one thing, though: Everything about this, us, tonight…was pretty perfect. Except it has absolutely nothing to do with my previous experience or prior partners.
The perfection comes from the person still lying beneath me.