Page 116 of Chase
His jawline looks like it was carved, arching up toward his cheekbones beneath his golden, tanned skin. The freckles that dot his body stand out. I trace a line from the freckles on his stomach up to his neck, and I’m obsessed with the contrast of my canvas of tattooed skin up against his untouched vast planes of muscle.
I reach up to curl my fingers through his silky hair, giving it a tug.
I give him a little nod, trying to collect myself before I fall into him for the rest of the night.
“Touch yourself.”
His eyes dance across my face. “Forgot how bossy you can be.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Fuck,” he says as he concedes, reaching down to grip the base of his cock. He starts to stroke, and I watch his movements, marveling at the beauty of his body as he works into a rhythm.
I use my free hand to steal a little more precum from his tip, bringing it to his hole.
“This is going to be a stretch,” I tell him.
I use the slickness to try adding a second finger to his hole. It’s not quite enough, and I wish like fuck I had some sort of lube, but of all the things I keep in my art studio, that’s not one of them.
As my second finger pushes past his tight muscle, Logan leans his head back onto the floor, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I can take it,” he whispers.
“You sure about that?”
“Do it.”
My cock throbs under my pants at his insistence. I can’t even begin to think about how much I want to take him raw and split him with my cock right now, and the self-restraint feels like something I should get a goddamn award for.
I push my second finger in slowly and I feel him start to relax into the pressure.
“That’s it,” Logan gently murmurs.
He looks like a fallen god.
His eyes flutter closed again and I push a tiny bit deeper, leaning closer to his face.
“Stay with me,” I tell him.
His eyes open again, meeting mine. I feel like I can see a whole world in the flecks of silvery grey, like there’s awhole ocean behind his gaze, glittering like the water’s surface.
“I’m here,” he says.
My heart lurches in my chest.
Fuck, why does that feel so good when he says it?
I shove my fingers a little further in, trying to ignore how strong of an effect he’s having on me. I pay close attention to every hitch of his breath as I move, making sure I stretch him, but never hurt him too much.
“I like it when it’s like this,” I tell him, hanging a few inches above his lips. “When you’re reallywithme.”
“I know,” he whispers.
Christ.I feel like I’m slowly coaxing something from him at all times, drawing him out toward me, again and again.
I hold his gaze, cocking my head to one side as I finally press two fingers inside him all the way. His breath catches as I hold it there, then when I push on him from the inside he exhales.
And words just keep spilling out of my mouth.
