Chase wants to fuck me. He wants me to change my mind and let him in. He wants to win, too, and in a flash, I don’t see why we both can’t.
“Fine. But not the front,” I gasp. “The back. Put it in the back.”
He freezes, like he never expected I’d give in—or that I’d offerthat. His fingers squeeze my hip. “Fuck me, Holden. You don’t know how tempting that is. We never… I don’t have anything to help. I can’t hurt you. And if I stuck my cock in there dry, there will be pain.”
Shit. What was I thinking? So hot for Chase, but determined to win—determined to prove that I can control myself around my twin’s lover—I figured anal was a loophole. Fuck my ass, not my pussy, and I didn’t back down from my whole “I’m not fucking you” promise. Plus, I can’t risk a pregnancy. You can’t get knocked-up from butt sex, but I’ve never done that before. I don’t know if Chase has, either. But dry… yeah. That’ll hurt.
“You’re right. I… I wasn’t thinking. Maybe that’s enough. We should be going back anyway?—”
For a second, he digs his fingers into my ass, the gesture telling me all I need to know about his willingness to walk away now that he has me right where he wants me.
Chase realizes that he’s clutching me an instant later. He pulls his hand back, then says, “Wait. Don’t move,” before heading to my side.
Before I can realize what he’s about to do, Chase dips his hand in the nearest pocket of Rory’s jacket that he can reach. I don’t know what he’s looking for. It’s not like I keep condoms or lube in there, and he must’ve realized that because he jerks his hand out again.
He’s on his knees next to me. I try to look over at him, but when I do, he’s already scrambling to retake his position behind me.
I hear a hiss.
What is he doing? “Chase?”
“Don’t move, baby,” he repeats. “I’ve got this.”
“What the?—”
His finger slides through my folds. Not gonna lie, but I’m fuckingsopping, that’s how wet I am. Maybe… maybe that’ll be enough to get him started. He gathers the moisture there, slicking it around my puckered asshole. After pulling his hand away from my ass, he does it again, only with something that’s even warmer and… tacky, almost. Like, sticky.
I want to ask, but his sudden silence as he focuses on prepping me to take his cock has me gritting my teeth, waiting for him to try to breach my back entrance so he can fuck it.
Whatever he did, it’s enough to help him slide the first inch or two inside. The stretch of my skin around the intrusion fuckingburns, but not in a bad way. It’s almost a delicious fullness, and my lust-fueled brain insists that it’s only because it’s Chase I’m allowing to fuck my ass that makes the sensation so overwhelmingly intense.
He doesn’t last long. In a way, I’m glad. I needed that connection, he needed to come again, and as he rocks slightly, getting just enough friction going before he fills my asshole with a second load, I can’t stop myself from inwardly panicking that I’m letting Chase Knight fuck me again, no matter how he’s doing it.
On the plus side, no pregnancy scares for this chick. On the other, a tiny whisper in my brain repeats the almost franticwe neverthat Chase said before he figured out a way to make anal work.
I’ve never had a cock in my ass. I guess Hallie didn’t either, and now that I’ve shared this experience with her fiancé… I’m not sure what to think about it.
Once he’s finished, I’mdone.Before Chase can try to convince me to do anything else with him, I scramble to my feet and hurriedly re-dress myself, all while thinking how fucking grateful I am that I’ve scavenged more than enough panties to be able to get rid of this pair as soon as possible.
Chase takes his time getting decent. Because I can’t bring myself to watch him, I look away, pausing when I catch the glint of something metal in the grass. At first, I think it’s his lighter. Nope. It’s too big for that, plus I remember how he put the lighter back in his pocket. So, out of curiosity, I snag whatever it is from the ground.
My pocketknife. What the hell is my pocketknife doing in the dirt?
I blink, then glare at Chase. My pocketknife should have been was I had it: mypocket. But that was before he slipped his hand in there.
What the hell? Was he grabbing my knife before?
Why?
Feeling the weight of my stare, he jerks his head up, meeting my gaze.
Wordlessly, I show him the folded-up knife.
He shrugs and, just as quiet, he shows me the brand new gash in his arm.
There goes our newfound silence. I see the fresh cut, remember the strange warm, sticky substance he spread on my asshole before he began to fuck it, and nearly have a stroke.
“Blood? You usedbloodas lube?”
