I slide my hand up his side, slow enough to make him shiver. He arches into me, panting lightly, lost in it.
“More,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “Please—just… more.”
I kiss down his chest, feeling him tremble beneath every slow press of my mouth. His hand finds my shoulder, gripping tight.
“God, I need you closer,” he murmurs, head tipping back against the pillow.
The honesty in his voice hits me right in the center of my chest.
“You will,” I promise, kissing my way back up his sternum. “I’ve got you.”
His breath stutters when I pin his wrists lightly to the mattress again.
“Logan…” This time it’s a helpless sound, half-whispered, half-moaned. He looks at me with blown pupils and a desperate grin. “If you’re gonna be in control,” he murmurs, voice shaky but teasing, “then quit teasing and take it.”
That line nearly ruins me.
I move back up his body until my lips brush his ear. “Not yet.”
He groans—frustrated, needy, perfect—and lifts his hips helplessly toward me.
“Don’t move,” I instruct, as I let go of his wrists.
I catch his hips with both hands, holding him still, even though every instinct in me wants to grind down and give him exactly what he’s begging for.
“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.
