His voice breaks. “Logan—oh my God?—”
I do it again…measured, precise, enough to make him see stars without letting either of us fall off the edge too soon.
Because I want him shaking apart. I want him begging. I want him completely destroyed for me. And from the way he clings to me, panting, moaning, whispering my name like a prayer—I’m already halfway there.
I set a slow, grinding rhythm—each thrust deep enoughto make him gasp, slow enough to make him curse under his breath.
Todd’s head tips back, lips parted, breath stuttering as I keep him right on the edge of falling apart.
“Logan…” He drags my name out like it’s the only word he remembers. “Fuck—please?—”
I catch his wrists again and pin them above his head. He groans, hips jerking helplessly beneath me. His cock trapped between us. He pulses between us, and I grind down into him again, dragging my abdomen along his length as I do.
“You’re so goddamn needy,” I whisper, brushing my nose along his cheek. “Look at you.”
“I can’t—” He breaks off with a gasp when I sink in deeper, hitting exactly where he needs me. “Logan, I can’t—if you don’t—fuck?—”
“You can,” I murmur. “You can take it. You’re doing so good. You’re such a fucking good boy for me.”
He lets out a sound that’s halfway between a moan and a sob, hips lifting to meet every slow thrust like his body can’t help itself.
I kiss him again, swallowing the noise. “God, you’re perfect.”
His breath catches with a broken moan. “Logan—Logan—please—let me touch you?—”
I shake my head, keeping his wrists pinned with one hand while my other drags down his ribs, slow enough to make him shiver.
“You like giving up control,” I remind him against his throat. “So you’re going to let me take my time.”
He whines, frustrated, needy, absolutely hovering on that edge. “You’re killing me.”
I smile against his skin. “Not even close.”
I shift my hips, angling my thrust just right—And hebreaks.A sharp cry tears out of him, his back arching, legs shaking around my waist.
“Right there—God—Logan, right there, right there?—”
His body tightens around me, squeezing tight, dragging a groan from deep in my chest. He moans something incoherent, trying to lift his hips faster, harder, but I hold him down, controlling the pace, owning every inch of him.
“Please,” he gasps. “Please—more—just a little—Logan, please?—”
Jesus Christ.
Hearing my name like that nearly pulls the orgasm out of me right then.
I kiss him hard and deep, releasing one of his wrists just so I can guide his hand to the back of my neck, so I can have his touch on me. His fingers dig in instantly.
“You’re close,” I breathe.
He shakes his head wildly. “Not yet—God—please—don’t stop—don’t?—”
“I’m not stopping,” I promise, voice shaking with restraint. “I’m going to keep you right here until you can’t even breathe without saying my name.”
His hips jerk, a desperate, helpless movement.
“Oh my God,” he whispers. “Logan—please—I’m—I can’t?—”
His voice breaks, and I swear I’m going to lose my mind keeping us both right here. Balanced on the knife’s edge. His whole body is trembling now—every breath a plea, every sound a surrender.
