Chapter 9 Todd #2
I move to do it, fumbling slightly as I sit up as much as possible with him hovering over me, but Logan grabs the wrists and peels it off my arms for me, slow and deliberate, his fingers grazing my skin.
It sends a pulse of awareness to my balls, and I bite back another whimper.
Fuck, he has me on edge from a brush of his skin against mine.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
I look away, embarrassed. “I’m fine.”
He tips my chin back toward him. “You’re allowed to be nervous. But you don’t have to be scared. I told you—I’ll take care of you. And none of this leaves these four walls.”
God, why does that hit harder than anything else? With all of the teasing and little jabs on and off the rink, I wouldn’t have pegged Logan as a…what? Sensitive Dom? A Daddy Dom? Okay with letting this just be between the two of us?
He leans down, kissing me again—slower this time. Steady. Deep. Like he’s trying to make good on that promise already.
Then his hand slides down, fingers trailing over the waistband of my sweats.
He meets my gaze and waits.
I nod.
“Say it,” he reminds me.
“Yes.”
That’s all it takes.
He slips his hand inside.
And my brain short circuits.
His fingers wrap around me, and I suck in a breath so sharp it burns.
“Fuck,” I whisper, head falling back as Logan strokes me—slow at first, then tighter, more purposeful, like he already knows exactly how I like it.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, lips brushing the underside of my jaw. “That what you need, Captain?”
I nod frantically, barely breathing. “Yeah.”
He pumps again, thumb dragging over the head of my cock, slicking the motion, making my whole body jerk.
“You’ve been holding this in for a long time, haven’t you?” he asks, voice like smoke against my skin. “All that control. All that pressure. Bet it gets heavy.”
My eyes flutter closed. “You have no idea.”
“Sure I do.” He squeezes just enough to make my hips buck. “I see it on the ice. In the locker room. You hold yourself like you’re afraid to be seen. Like letting someone touch you would make it all fall apart.”
I can’t even deny it. I can barely think.
He kisses me again, tongue sweeping into my mouth as his hand works me harder, faster, in perfect rhythm with my racing heart.
“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs. “Letting go. Letting me take care of you.”
I moan into his mouth. It’s not soft or quiet.
But he likes it—I can feel that in the way his lips curl against mine.
“You gonna come for me?” he whispers. “Right here, like this still inside your sweats?”
I whimper.
“Use your words, Todd.”
“Y-Yeah. I’m—fuck—I’m close.”
He shifts just enough to murmur against my ear, his teeth catching my earlobe before he whispers, “Yeah? Show me.”
His hand stills, fingers tightening just enough to make me whine.
Then he shifts down, dragging his mouth along the curve of my jaw, to my throat, pushing my shirt up with his free hand and kissing down my exposed skin. “Not in your pants,” he murmurs. “I wanna taste it.”
I barely process what he said before he’s hooking his fingers in my waistband and tugging my sweats and boxers down in one smooth motion. My cock springs free—wet and flushed and aching—and the cool air makes me shiver.
Then his mouth is on me.
Hot. Wet. Deep.
“Fuck,” I choke out, hips jerking up instinctively, but his hands are already on my thighs, holding me down. Controlling the rhythm.
His tongue flicks under the crown before he sucks me in again, slow and steady, like he’s savoring every second.
I tangle my fingers in his hair, not pulling—just anchoring—because I don’t think I can breathe without something to hold onto.
“Logan,” I gasp. “I can’t—”
He hums around me, the vibration shooting straight through my spine.
I break.
Hard.
Coming with a sharp cry, my entire body shaking as he takes it all—every last drop—like he owns it. Like he owns me.
By the time he pulls off with a quiet pop, I’m completely wrecked.
Eyes hazy.
Breath ragged.
Still spread open on his couch like a goddamn offering.
He looks up at me, lips shiny, eyes dark. “Told you I’d take care of you.”
I can’t speak. Can’t think. But I nod, because he did. He really fucking did.
And part of me knows…we’re nowhere near done.
The room is still spinning when Logan stands, wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and reaches for his glass of water.
I sit up too fast, my body still loose and overstimulated, but the need to touch him overrides everything else. “Let me,” I say, voice hoarse, unsteady. “I want to—”
His gaze flicks to mine, sharp and unreadable.
Then he steps closer, the outline of his cock thick in his pants. I lick my lips, my eyes flicking up to his then back down.
I reach for his waistband, fingers brushing the trail of skin just above it, but he catches my wrist—firm, but not rough.
“Not yet,” he says, low and certain.
My heart stutters. “Why not?”
He nudges me back gently, guiding me until I’m lying down again, sweat cooling on my skin, nerves crackling beneath it.
“Because I’m not done with you.”
His hand skims down my chest, over my stomach, and then lower.
I gasp when he cups me again, thumb brushing lazily over the mess of precum he already made in my lap. Then his touch trails lower still, fingers tracing between my thighs until he’s sliding them behind my balls.
My breath hitches.
He strokes lightly over my taint, fingertips so close, and my legs fall open without a single command. I want his touch where he’s headed. Hell, I want more than just his fingers.
Then he touches me.
Right there.
Right against my rim.
Not pushing in—just pressing—testing.
“Did you prep the way I asked you to?” he asks, voice calm but edged with something darker.
I nod instantly, heat flooding my face. “Y-Yeah. I did.”
He smiles—slow and satisfied—like he already knew the answer.
“Good boy.”
The words go off like a detonator inside me. Fuck, I love the way they sound coming from his mouth.
His finger slides in just a little, and I whimper, already panting again.
“Still stretched?”
“A little,” I breathe. “But not—fuck—not enough.”
He shifts slightly and reaches for the bottle of lube on the side table. Then he drips some onto his fingers. He groans quietly, rubbing a circle around the tight muscle before applying just the smallest amount of pressure. Slipping past the ring with the help of the lube.
“You want more?”
I nod, dizzy from how fast I’m getting hard again. “Yes.”
His mouth brushes against my inner thigh, hot breath making me shiver. “Then you’ll lie there and take it. My pace. My way.”
I nod again, desperate, and honestly ready to agree to anything he commands. “Okay.”
He presses a kiss just above my knee. And then another.
And then he slides a second slick finger inside—slow and deep—pressing against that spot that makes stars flicker behind my eyes. My hips twitch, cock already aching again, bobbing helplessly in front of him.
“Look at how hard you are for me again,” Logan murmurs, voice reverent like I’ve given him some kind of gift. “Such a good fucking boy.”
I whimper. It’s embarrassing how fast my body reacts to him. How easily I give over every piece of control.
But then he leans in, tongue following the path of his fingers. And everything inside me goes still—except for my pulse, which thunders in my ears.
I should be tense. Nervous. I’ve never let anyone do this before.
But his hands are firm, his mouth gentle. Like he’s proving I can let go here. With him.
The first brush of his tongue sends a jolt through me so sharp I gasp.
He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t tease. Just explores me with slow, unhurried strokes of his tongue over my hole—fingers still buried deep, coaxing me open as he breathes against my skin like he’s memorizing the way I fall apart for him.
My fingers curl into the cushions. I’ve never felt anything like this. Never trusted anyone to even try.
“Logan…” I choke out his name, half question, half plea.
He spreads me wider, burying his face into my crack and sucking.
I loop my left leg over the back of the couch giving him better access, needing him to keep going.
I think I’m going to come again with his tongue in my ass, keeping pace with his fingers, and not touching my cock at all.
Fuck, it’s so fucking good I can’t think straight.
He just hums against me, low and steady. His hands never stop moving. His mouth never stops working. It’s more than physical—it's like he's carving out a place inside me that belongs to him.
By the time he rises to his knees, drips lube on his dick and lines himself up, I’m wrecked. Ready. My whole body is humming for him.
He pauses, eyes searching mine. “You okay?”
I nod, too choked up to speak.
But that’s not good enough for him.
“Use your words, Todd.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I want you. Please.”
His expression shifts—something softer threading through the heat in his gaze. He presses his forehead to mine for a beat, like he needs the connection just as much as I do.
And when he finally pushes in—slow and deep—I don’t feel fear. Just the stretch of something I’ve been aching for. Something that feels dangerously close to more.