22. Chase #3
“Oh, God,” he utters, and when his eyelids flutter open to look at me, a surge of something electric hits my chest.
The way he’s looking at me is too good.
He’s given up all pretense of pretending he’s not completely in my control, right now, and he’s looking at me like I have his entire world within my palm.
Logan.
Mine.
If there was any shred of doubt I still had about what he told me earlier, this is a gleaming beacon of certainty that shoots straight through my entire body.
You are mine.
You actually are.
And I am going to take such good care of you.
I press the side of my face up against his, sliding as deep as I can into him, and it’s so much better than every fantasy I had about this.
Fucking somebody has always felt good, but it’s never felt like this.
Like we’ve tapped into some other plane of existence that only contains this moment, that we were made for.
“There’s nothing that’s going to keep me from you,” I tell him, sliding my cock out of him and then plunging back in for the first time. “I can take it. I can take anything, if I get to have you.”
“I can’t control myself around you,” he utters, shoving his ass back against me and exhaling through the tight squeeze. “How am I supposed to…”
“Baby. You don’t have to.”
He groans and squeezes his eyes shut. “Can’t take it when you call me that.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Fucking love it, Chase.”
I move his head upward slightly, sucking a kiss to the side of his neck. “Good. Get ready, this is going to be a lot.”
I’d been going slow and steady, but in that moment I channel an entire year’s worth of pent-up need into him, slamming the length of my cock into him all at once and fucking him up against the wall.
My balls smack against the lower half of his ass and I stop thinking, because I physically need him, and the way he moans is the only thing I need to hear.
I keep him pinned with my whole body as I fuck him. I reach to grab his dick with one hand while I keep another flat against the wall next to his face, giving me leverage.
I look down for a moment to see myself sliding out of him, then plunging back in.
It’s so good. Burned into my memory forever.
In gorgeous colors, and a work of art.
“You need to come,” I utter in a broken breath behind him, because I can feel it in the way his body is starting to clench around me.
“You feel so good,” he breathes. “How do you feel this fucking good?”
I tighten my grip around his cock and pump him harder, because I’m getting pushed closer to the brink with every thrust inside him.
I hold back until I feel him tense up, and his cock starts to pulse in my hand as he loses control. I slam my cock into him as hard as I can, fucking him as he comes, and I finally let myself go over the edge, too.
My hips rock against him as I bite down on his shoulder and I come, filling the condom inside him.
I let my orgasm crash over me, and as I settle, I still don’t feel like anything is over.
No.
Don’t let it end.
I want my body to stay on his like this.
I want to stay draped on him, skin on skin, fucking forever as far as I’m concerned. I don’t move as both of us catch our breath, and my head is full of echoes of the perfect way he sounded.
Even as I slide my cock out of him, tie up the condom and discard it, I keep my arm against his, needing to feel some touch of his warmth.
My eyes have adjusted to the low light in the room and when I look back up at Logan, he looks like a rugged angel near my mural wall.
“You added to the composition,” I tell him, nodding at the cum he streaked out over the lower area. He smiles softly, grabbing a tissue and dragging it over the mess he made.
“Mind if I rinse off really quickly in the shower?”
I nod. “If you don’t mind me joining you.”
“Please do.”
I show him to the shower, which is nowhere near as vast or glitzy as the ones in his hotel suite.
But I like the tight fit.
I crack open my body wash and lather it over every inch of his skin, cleaning him off and massaging him at the same time.
And I kiss him.
I kiss him again, and again, and there’s never enough of his mouth.
When he does the same back to me, kissing me then lathering my skin, I almost feel like I’m falling into a hypnotic trance. I’m so relaxed but also so wired, the type of feeling I haven’t had since the days where I used to mix drugs and get a strange result.
After we dry off, I give him a pair of light sweatpants to wear.
And then I kiss him.
Back in my room, he gets into my bed without me even having to ask.
I turn out the light, and when I tuck in under the covers beside Logan, I plan on interrogating him for at least an hour before we fall asleep.
There’s so much I want to ask.
So much I need to say, to explain, to clarify.
But nothing goes according to my plan, anyway. The moment I’m under the sheets, holding him from behind, sleep claims me too easily. And everything I want to say falls into a deep slumber, where I dream I’m on a far-off rooftop with him, and he’s telling me he loves me, too.