My thighs clench in response.
I want him to let go, to spill down my throat. There’s power in knowing he’s already so close and I’m seconds away from bringing him to ecstasy with only my mouth.
I hum around him, swirling my tongue, tasting his salt.
He dives deeper, hitting the back of my throat. I gag, my eyes watering, but I don’t stop. My fingers curl, nails digging. Tears breach the corners of my eyes. Chase watches, dark lust creased across his face. He brushes his thumb across my cheekbone, streaking away a tear.
“That’s it.” His voice shakes, control slipping away. “That’s my girl.”
His hand drags through my hair, gripping hard at the crown of my head. He slopes forward, his opposite hand latching onto the headboard for support. I suck him harder, my hand stroking his base as tears stream down my hollowed-out cheeks.
I feel him stiffen, tense. And then his face contorts with pleasure, grip tightening, head craning back as his mouth parts with a feral moan. Ribbons of liquid heat splash across my tongue, hitting the back of my throat. I swallow him down with a needy whimper, drain him dry.
He comes down slow, panting and breathless. His hold on me loosens as he skims shaky fingers through my hair and slides out of my mouth, muscles unlocking and body sagging forward. I fall with him, curling into his side. Skin slick and breathing jagged, I press closer, wrapping my limbs around him.
“Chase,” I whisper.
My words stop and end with his name. I don’t know what to say, where to go from here.
I lean in and kiss him.
His lips part slowly, tongue coasting over mine with soft, languid strokes.
Then he pulls back with a sharp breath. “That was—”
“Everything,” I say, cutting him off. “It was everything.” Another kiss, another flick of my tongue against his bottom lip. “I want more.”
I want hours, days, months. An infinity of him. My body still sings, begging for it—him inside me, moving, burning, taking all of me.
That was just a taste. A glimpse of everything I crave.
My leg twines between his, my fingers tracing the planes of his chest.
“Do you have a condom?” My index finger draws down his abdomen, trailing the dark, coarse hair.
Swallowing, Chase tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “We should wait. I’m, uh…still a little drunk.”
My finger stops moving. I blink, studying his face, the glaze of his eyes, the dark shadows. “Oh.”
“I should’ve slowed down. I wanted that to be…” His voice fades out.
“It was.”
His eyes close, lashes fluttering, arm lifting to pull me closer. “I haven’t felt like myself lately.”
My heart clenches. I raise a hand, two fingers brushing his bangs aside then pressing gently to his forehead. “Your head?”
A nod.
“You should see a doctor, Chase.”
“I did. Before the first tour,” he says. “He told me to wear earplugs and gave me some prescriptions.”
A gnawing worry ripples through me, overshadowing the lingering desire. “It hasn’t helped?”
“No. Not really. I feel…” Hesitating, he holds me tighter. “Different.”
Tears puddle in my eyes.
