Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I’m too impatient not to slide my tongue onto his before I’ve even finished the sentence.
“I thought you were finished with me,” he breathes when I move to kiss his jaw. “Thought I might be losing you.”
“I couldn’t ever be finished with you.”
I stand up, reach out my hand, and help him up. I drag him down the hall toward my bedroom door, pushing it open and then shutting it behind us.
I don’t give him any space to move, shoving my body up against his on the wall of my room, pinning him with my body.
“Why did you seem so far away from me all night?” he protests as I lean in, sucking a kiss against the side of his neck.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It’s not you, Chase. I know you better than that.”
“Maybe I was mad,” I tell him, leaning back and giving him a burning glare. My hand twists into his hair, giving his head a little tug that makes him moan. “Mad at myself. Maybe I was getting fucking greedy, like I always do, and I had to make myself stop.”
His lashes flick lower toward my lips. He answers by leaning in and capturing me in a deep, slow kiss, sliding his tongue along mine.
“Everything about you is a challenge,” Logan murmurs as I push my knee between his legs, feeling the hard outline of his cock through his pants.
“I have to fuck you,” I tell him. “Are you ready for that?”
He exhales, closing his eyes. “You know the answer to that.”
I let go of him all at once, dropping my hands from him and relaxing my knee from between his legs.
He stays flat against the wall, like he’s still pinned there even without my grasp. My room is dim, lit only by the little glowing lamp on my desk at the side of the room. The wall Logan’s standing against is painted with another mural, this one more abstract, black with strokes of neon color that I’ve added throughout my time living here.
Logan looks like part of the art. The colors look like they’re surrounding him in a radiant halo.
I slowly move my hand toward the waistband of his pants, undoing the button at the top, then sliding the zipper down.
I reach my hand in the front of his pants, gripping his cock in my hand through the soft fabric of his briefs.
“Say you need my cock.”
He swallows, eyeing me closely.
I’m kneading his hard-on through the cotton now and he pulls in a shallow, shaky breath.
“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time, Chase,” he says. “I think about it constantly.”
“You need my cock. And you’ll have it, if you say it.” I pull my hand away again and move to shove his pants down, taking his briefs with them. He kicks them away, and I give his shirt a tug. “Why is this still on?”
I step over toward the top drawer of my nightstand and it’s a fucking nightmare trying to find what I want.
I push past old empty film canisters, tubes of paint, pencils, and endless sheets of paper I’d torn from sketchbooks. I don’t exactly keep my shit organized and it’s never bothered me until right now, when I need something this much.
Finally my fingers close around my bottle of lube and retrieve a condom from the stack in the back.
I bring them back over toward Logan, who’s standing there naked now with his cock hanging between his legs.
“Good,” I tell him. “You didn’t touch it without me telling you to.”
“Have I ever told you you’re like a petty prince?”
“No. But I like that. Hold these.”
I hand him the lube and condom and make him stand there watching me as I slowly take off my clothes. When I shove down my pants, my cock bobs free, and Logan’s eyes magnetize to it instantly.
I pluck the condom from his hand and tear it open, rolling it over my dick. I take the lube from him next, slicking the condom and my fingers before nodding at him.
“Turn,” I tell him.
He spins around to face the wall and puts his hands flat on it. I slowly move to drape myself over the back of his body, pressing every inch of my chest to his back, letting my cock push against the cleft of his ass.
“What do you need?”
He gives a low exhale as I trail my slicked fingers between his cheeks, letting my other hand grip his hip.
“I need your cock.”
“Could barely hear you, baby,” I murmur, dragging my fingertips over his hole.
“Fuck,” he whispers, involuntarily pushing his ass back against me a little. “I need your cock inside me.”
“That’s better.”
I push two of my fingers into him at once, knowing it’s a tight stretch. He takes it well, though, breathing evenly as I watch the muscles in his back rise and fall.