Chapter 40 Logan #2
“Logan,” he gasps, head tipping back against the pillow, throat exposed and flushed. “Please.”
His voice is hoarse, and somehow it still sends a sharp, sweet ache straight through me.
“I said, not yet,” I murmur again, letting the words drag across the shell of his ear the way I know makes him shiver. “I said I’ve got you. That means you wait for me.”
He curses under his breath, hips straining against my grip. “You’re killing me.”
“Good,” I whisper, teeth catching lightly on the line of his jaw before I kiss the same spot softly. “You keep saying you want me in control. So let me.”
His breath catches, and I feel the tension melt out of his body all at once. The surrender in it damn near unravels me.
He nods, just once. “Okay.”
I drag my mouth down his throat again, slower this time, tasting the pulse fluttering under his skin. His fingers run into my hair, gripping and then releasing, as though he isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
“You look so good like this,” I say, lips brushing his collarbone. “All open for me, and your cock leaking all over the place.”
A broken sound tears out of him. “Then take me.”
My control fractures at the edges. I lean back on my heels and adjust so his legs are spread wide.
Without looking away from him, I pop the top of the lube, and then I coat my fingers and tease him open.
feeling him tense, then soften, then push back against my hand with a helpless whine that goes straight through me.
“Fuck, I need your dick inside of me.”
I curse under my breath. “You really want me to lose it, don’t you?”
He grins up at me, dazed and desperate. “Kinda the point.”
I line myself up, the head of my cock brushing against him, dragging over the slick heat of his entrance. He shivers violently, eyes fluttering shut as he exhales a shaky breath. I need his eyes on me.
“Look at me,” I whisper.
His eyes open—clear blue and blown wide—and the need in them is enough to make me forget every reason to go slow. I push in, just the first inch, and he gasps—back arching, breath catching.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, gripping the sheets, gripping me, gripping anything he can reach.
I sink deeper, inch by inch, feeling him take me in, feeling him stretch around me, and the sound that leaves his mouth is pure devastation.
“More,” he whispers. “Logan… more.”
I push in deeper, slow enough that he feels every inch, and that he trembles under me, fingers clutching at my shoulders like he’s hanging on for dear life.
“Todd…” My voice cracks, because he feels unreal—hot, tight, consuming me inch by inch.
His breath stutters, eyes fluttering shut before he forces them open again. “Don’t—stop.” It’s barely a whisper, but it shoots straight to my balls.
“I’m not stopping,” I breathe, leaning down until our foreheads touch. “I’m just—taking my time. I love the feeling of you squeezing me tight.”
He groans, long and low, like the sound is being pulled out of him. His legs tighten around my waist, pulling me in until I bottom out—buried so deep I swear I see stars when he flexes his ass muscles.
His mouth drops open. “Oh my—fuck, Logan—”
I swallow the rest of it in a kiss, deep and messy, the kind that pulls another desperate sound out of him. He clings to me, nails raking lightly down my back, and every touch lights me up.
I pull back just enough to breathe against his lips. “You feel insane.”
He lets out a breathless laugh that’s more like a moan. “Pretty sure you’re the one making me insane.”
I pull back slowly—painfully slow—and he gasps, head tilting back, throat exposed in the most sinful way.
“Oh fuck, Logan, please—”
“Shhh.” I kiss the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then the spot beneath his ear that makes him shiver. “I’m still in control, like you wanted.”
“I did,” he pants. “But you’re—killing me.”
“That’s kind of the point,” I murmur, rolling my hips back into him just enough to make him suck in a breath, but not enough to give him what he wants.
He whines—an actual whine—and I nearly lose it.
“Logan—” His voice cracks, desperate and raw. “Move.”
“I am moving.”
“Not like that,” he growls, frustration bleeding into need. “Move. Fuck me.”
I smirk against his throat. “You’re not being very patient.”
He grabs my face with both hands, pulls me down until our lips brush. He’s panting, pupils blown, expression wrecked. “I don’t want to be patient. I want you. All of you. Right now.”
I thrust into him quickly—deep enough that his breath catches in a startled moan, his back arching off the bed, his fingers digging into my shoulders like he’s trying to anchor himself to the earth.
A sharp gasp spills from his lips. “Yes—Logan—fuck—”
I grind my hips into his, slow but hard, and he shudders beneath me.
“More,” he begs. “Please—more—”
I bite back a groan, leaning down to kiss him again, swallowing every broken sound.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper against his mouth, breath shaking. “But I’m not rushing a single second of this.”
I pull out halfway—and slam back into him with a controlled, devastating roll of my hips. He nearly comes undone right there.
His voice breaks. “Logan—oh my God—”
I do it again…measured, precise, enough to make him see stars without letting either of us fall off the edge too soon.
Because I want him shaking apart. I want him begging. I want him completely destroyed for me. And from the way he clings to me, panting, moaning, whispering my name like a prayer—I’m already halfway there.
I set a slow, grinding rhythm—each thrust deep enough to make him gasp, slow enough to make him curse under his breath.
Todd’s head tips back, lips parted, breath stuttering as I keep him right on the edge of falling apart.
“Logan…” He drags my name out like it’s the only word he remembers. “Fuck—please—”
I catch his wrists again and pin them above his head. He groans, hips jerking helplessly beneath me. His cock trapped between us. He pulses between us, and I grind down into him again, dragging my abdomen along his length as I do.
“You’re so goddamn needy,” I whisper, brushing my nose along his cheek. “Look at you.”
“I can’t—” He breaks off with a gasp when I sink in deeper, hitting exactly where he needs me. “Logan, I can’t—if you don’t—fuck—”
“You can,” I murmur. “You can take it. You’re doing so good. You’re such a fucking good boy for me.”
He lets out a sound that’s halfway between a moan and a sob, hips lifting to meet every slow thrust like his body can’t help itself.
I kiss him again, swallowing the noise. “God, you’re perfect.”
His breath catches with a broken moan. “Logan—Logan—please—let me touch you—”
I shake my head, keeping his wrists pinned with one hand while my other drags down his ribs, slow enough to make him shiver.
“You like giving up control,” I remind him against his throat. “So you’re going to let me take my time.”
He whines, frustrated, needy, absolutely hovering on that edge. “You’re killing me.”
I smile against his skin. “Not even close.”
I shift my hips, angling my thrust just right—And he breaks. A sharp cry tears out of him, his back arching, legs shaking around my waist.
“Right there—God—Logan, right there, right there—”
His body tightens around me, squeezing tight, dragging a groan from deep in my chest. He moans something incoherent, trying to lift his hips faster, harder, but I hold him down, controlling the pace, owning every inch of him.
“Please,” he gasps. “Please—more—just a little—Logan, please—”
Jesus Christ.
Hearing my name like that nearly pulls the orgasm out of me right then.
I kiss him hard and deep, releasing one of his wrists just so I can guide his hand to the back of my neck, so I can have his touch on me. His fingers dig in instantly.
“You’re close,” I breathe.
He shakes his head wildly. “Not yet—God—please—don’t stop—don’t—”
“I’m not stopping,” I promise, voice shaking with restraint. “I’m going to keep you right here until you can’t even breathe without saying my name.”
His hips jerk, a desperate, helpless movement.
“Oh my God,” he whispers. “Logan—please—I’m—I can’t—”
His voice breaks, and I swear I’m going to lose my mind keeping us both right here. Balanced on the knife’s edge. His whole body is trembling now—every breath a plea, every sound a surrender.
I brace one arm beside his head, the other locked around his thigh to keep him exactly where I want him. His heels dig into my lower back, like he’s trying to fuse our bodies together.
“Logan—” It’s barely a word. More like a cracked-open prayer.
“Look at me,” I say, low and rough.
His eyes snap open, pupils blown, chest heaving. There’s nothing guarded there anymore—just want and trust.
And fuck, that does something to me.
I pull back, slowly, torturously…then drive forward again, deep enough to steal the air from his lungs. He chokes on a moan, back arching so hard that the sheets bunch beneath him.
“Jesus—fuck—” His fingers claw at my shoulders, my neck, anywhere he can reach. They are going to leave marks for sure. “Logan, I’m gonna—I can’t—I’m—please—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, hips snapping harder now, pace quickening as I push him over the edge. Each thrust rubs him between us, and I can feel him leaking all over me. “Let go. Come for me.”
He shatters.
A raw, broken sound rips out of him as his whole body bows, orgasm tearing through him so hard he’s shaking. His release stripes our stomachs, his thighs locking around my waist, squeezing tight.
Feeling him pulse around me—tight, hot, perfect—Yeah. It pushes me right to the edge.
I thrust once, twice—then bury myself as deep as I can go, groaning into his shoulder as my orgasm slams through me so hard my vision blacks. My hands grip his hips, holding him flush against me as I spill into him, pulse after pulse after pulse. Pure fucking bliss.
Todd drags me down into a kiss mid-aftershock—open-mouthed, messy, completely spent—and I melt into it, riding out the last waves with him.
Our breathing is wild for a long moment. Just the sound of us and the faint creak of the bed beneath our shaking. Eventually, my forehead drops to his chest, both of us too wrung out to pretend we’re anything but destroyed in the best way.
His fingers slide into my hair, weak but tender, scratching lightly at my scalp.
“Holy…” His voice cracks, and he huffs a laugh. “Shit.”
I laugh too—breathy, wrecked, resting my weight on him because I know he likes it. “Yeah. That.”
His chest rises under my cheek, slow and steady.
He presses a lazy kiss to the side of my head. “Feel good?”
I tilt my mouth to his jaw, kissing back. “You kidding? I’m pretty sure I forgot my own name for a second.”
Todd laughs again, and his arms wrap tight around me.
We stay tangled like that, sweat cooling on our skin, breaths syncing back to normal, the world narrowed down to skin and heartbeat and the softness that comes after you’ve given everything and gotten everything back. I could do this every single day for the rest of my life.