Page 119 of Asystole

“Chase, I’m happy to do this however you want and need to, but I’m hanging on by a thread over here,” he warns.

“I love seeing you come apart for me,” I tell him honestly.

“Can we move to the bed for that?” he asks, soaping up his body.

We’ve briefly touched on roles before, and both of us are open to either, but I see the need clearly written on his features. Logan wants to bury himself in my ass.

And I’m going to let him.

Nodding, I quickly wash myself, spending a little extra time on the areas I know he’s going to target.

We’re barely dry before he’s pulling me toward the bed. When he pushes me onto it, I expect him to climb on with me, but he pulls the curtains wide open, giving us an incredible view of the ocean and the blue sky. Then he walks back to his bag and pulls out a bottle and a small box.

“You came prepared,” I tease.

“I knew I wouldn’t be so good at holding back this time.”

Considering his erection could put a hole through the drywall right now, I’d say he’s right.

“Are the, uh, are the condoms necessary?” I ask, unsure if he brought them for my benefit or his.

“Only if you want them to be,” he answers.

I shake my head.

“I’d rather not use them if it’s all the same to you.” All I’ve wanted is a connection for so long. Something permanent. Something stable. Logan is all those things for me.

“Oh, thank God,” he says, tossing the box in the air.

I don’t see where it lands because Logan launches himself at me. Crawling over my body, he settles his knees on either side of my hips as he kisses me and rolls his hips into me, dragging his cock along mine.

“Fuck,” I moan, clinging to him, pulling him closer, matching his level of frantic need.

Logan licks and bites his way across my pecs. He spends a torturous amount of time at my hip bones, getting closer, but not landing where I want him.

“Logan,” I growl, trying to push his head toward my straining cock. “Please.”

“I’m going to come so fast, this is going to be terribly embarrassing,” he murmurs against my skin.

“No, it’ll be awesome,” I correct.

I guess because it knows something is coming for it, my asshole flutters in anticipation, clenching and relaxing like it’s impatiently waiting for his attention.

Logan sits up and flips open the lid of the lube, and I swear I die thirty-nine times while he tries to peel off that little metallic tab under the cap.

By the time he’s coating his fingers in the gel, I’ve got my feet planted on the bed, and I’m fucking the air.

“God, that’s hot,” he says, moving between my knees, pushing my feet wider. A second later, I feel the cool gel behind my balls, and the pressure from his finger over that spot makes stars dance behind my eyelids.

“Ohholyfuck,” I say in a rush. “More,” I demand, like the greedy, sex-starved bastard I am.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Logan says.

“I’m incapable of feeling pain right now,” I reassure him, making him laugh.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Mmmm,” I groan as he teases me.