Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

CHASE

C all me biased, but Seattle’s lights look good on Easton. He’s mesmerized by all he can see, but I can’t stop looking at him. Something changed for him today and getting out of the house was a necessary way to celebrate. I look down long enough to see his hand in mine, not because he needs me, but he’s freer somehow. Like a weight has been lifted.

And now, he’s here simply because he wants to spend time with me. Go on a date like a normal couple. It might be the cheesiest first date in all of Washington to take him up to the top of the Space Needle, but with the way he’s looking out over the city, it was the right call. Amazement makes his already beautiful eyes sparkle, leaving me unable to breathe properly when I connect with them.

Easton is made of pure magic and the kind of wonderment that only a lucky few can manage. I saw it years ago, and seeing it again now, knowing that it wasn’t squashed by his circumstances, is no less a miracle than him turning up out of the clear blue sky.

While I will never give up on saying he should have been with us this entire time, the strength it took for him to make his way here after all he’s suffered makes him the most incredible person I’ve ever known. I can’t fathom what it took for him to leave it all behind, especially with what he believed about his brother. He views it differently, that much is obvious. He’s frustrated with the cycles he’s experiencing, which is understandable. He deserves to be able to fully enjoy his newfound freedom, but he’s so harsh on himself.

Healing isn’t linear, it has more ups and downs than a mountain range. It isn’t fair or just. It hears no logic or reason. Sometimes, it’s downright cruel.

But there’s another side after you fight tooth and nail for yourself, where you wake up one day and realize that the chains that held you down for so long don’t weigh as much anymore, and the sun on your skin makes you feel brand new again.

He’s working towards that day, even if he doesn’t notice the progress he’s already made. I see it, and I’m determined to make sure he’s not counting himself out anytime soon. And in the meantime, some fun is well deserved for the both of us.

“Chase?” Easton asks hesitantly. We’re sitting on one of the benches inside the enclosure facing the skyline as we soak in the three-sixty view.

“Yes, darling?”

He bites his lip with a half smile, the dimple on his left cheek popping out as he does. “I asked if you were getting bored. You haven’t said anything in a while.”

“Easton, I could not be less bored if I tried. Just enjoying the view is all.”

He squeezes my hand. “You must get tired of reassuring me this much.” He says it lightheartedly, as if it was a joke, but I know him better than that.

The Museum of Pop Culture is just below our feet, the wild colors dancing in the evening sun. “You’re an overthinker. I get it. It’s not a bad thing. So for you, I’ll be an overexplainer.”

My sweet Chaos’s jaw practically unhinges. “What?” he squeaks quietly.

“I’ll explain myself until I’m blue in the face if it helps you feel more comfortable, sweetheart.”

For some reason, that seems to have fried his hardware. He blinks at me and then blinks some more, as if he simply can’t comprehend that the way his brain works isn’t annoying to me.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a sort of anguished whine that has me lowering my head and pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. It’s fast, he’s not big on public displays of affection, but he melts into it all the same, and it’s an effort to pull back. There’s too many damn people here.

“You got it?” He nods dazedly. “Well, we’ve gotten donuts, gone to the art exhibit and done the Space Needle. Anything else in particular you want to do?”

After the pop-up, the donuts were the main focus, believe it or not, but in my defense, they’re as close as you can get to a public orgasm without risking an indecency charge. We may or may not have split three dozen of the little fuckers. Brady is going to kick my ass in the gym tomorrow, but compartmentalizing is my bestest friend, and they were tiny, so it basically doesn’t count.

Plus, it made Easton’s eyes roll back in his head, and I’ve only ever managed to get that look when I make him come, so I’m quite pleased with myself.

“Hmm.” It’s cute watching him try to think of what he’s allowed to say. It doesn’t come easily to him, but I’m hoping we can practice a little bit. “Maybe dinner?”

The creativity could use some work but I’ll take it. “Dinner sounds perfect. ”

After a little prompting, he admits that he doesn’t want anything stuck-up, which sounds right up my alley. So we settle on a food truck we pass on the way back to my car, and I realize he’s having more fun than I’ve seen since the afternoon we spent rough-housing in the pool. He’s flirty in his own shy way, not looking over his shoulder every few minutes, even teasing me occasionally.

I love it.

We’re only a couple of houses away from home when a car parked on the street snags his attention, and his mouth turns down in the corners for the first time in a couple hours. “What’s that look for, Chaos?” I ask.

He shakes his head as his frown deepens. “My ex was obsessed with that model of BMW. Just icked me out for a second seeing one again.”

“Yuck,” I agree.

Easton’s phone starts ringing in the cupholder, I got service for it finally, and he pales as the unsaved number shows on the screen. He points it at me in question, but I know who it is.

“That’s Parker’s number.”

He relaxes and swipes to answer it, obviously confused but the color returns to his cheeks. “Hello?”

Parker starts going ninety to nothing so I leave them to it after I pull into the garage, not wanting to hover. I really hope Easton agrees to go with him to that concert, but I don’t want him to do it because he sees that on my face and doesn’t want to let me down, or something equally impossible.

Marianne is transitioning all of us to remote until the office renovations she wants are done, she’s really trying the whole new logo, new us thing. Which is great, except I have no idea what the purpose for the rebranding actually is. Maybe she just thought we needed a vibe change around the office. She is pretty serious about that kind of thing.

Fine by me, I’ll never complain about six weeks of staying home. But I know someone who will. Jesus, Brady may die without having a whole office floor worth of people to socialize with. He hasn’t texted me nearly as much as he normally would, but I’m hoping he’s just trying to give Easton space, not me exactly.

Still no sign of Easton being done talking to my brother yet, poor thing probably got sucked into Parker’s whirlwind, but it does give me a chance to check on my friend. He answers before the first ring has even ended, and a knot in my chest I was previously unaware of loosens.

“You gotta quit calling me like this, bro, I keep thinking someone died. Did someone die?”

“No, dumbass,” I answer with a snort. “Forgive me for giving a shit about you, I’ll try to work on that.”

He returns easily, “See that you do. You’re bad for my blood pressure.”

I roll my eyes, not that he can see it. “I only have a few minutes. Parker is talking Easton’s ear off about a concert he wants them to go to, so I thought I’d see what was going on with you.”

He hums in consideration. “Well, you know, just the normal things. Trying to find Easton’s fucking birth certificate because he wants to get an ID done when I couldn’t tell you where my own is if you were paying me. But he actually asked me for something so I have to deliver. My computer is arguing with me about installing this software thing Marianne wants us using, and I don’t appreciate the attitude. Easton hates me a little less, I think. Knock on wood. We both hate our parents more. And to top it all off, I feel fucking weird texting you so I’ve been left to my own thoughts for, like, ten hours today. It’s a miracle I’ve made it this long, but I’m glad you finally heard me yelling at you inside my head. So yeah, things are great.”

I can’t help but laugh. Brady’s stressed out ramblings are warranted by the sound of it, and I know that I’m the only one that gets his info-dumping, so he really has been waiting for me. “Buddy, that was a lot you were holding in there. You good?”

He sighs. “Yeah, I’m great. I just needed to be dramatic for a minute.”

“If we’re to the solutions part of this conversation, both of your birth certificates are at my house. We moved all your important stuff here when we redid your floors and you never took anything back.”

“Oh yeah! I remember that now. Well, give Easton his stuff, please. He said something about his ex handling getting the one he has now with the typo, but I don’t even know how that happened without any legal documents, and it’s just safer if he starts over again.” Even the mention of that piece of shit fills my mouth with a sour taste. “Am I allowed to ask about him?”

My heart pangs uncomfortably. How pushed aside he must feel. I’m bound to be failing someone at any given time, it seems. “You’re always allowed to ask, Brady. I’ll tell you anything I can, just not betray his privacy. And he’s better, after talking to you. It was good for him.”

Brady is so unendingly patient. He’d wait a lifetime for Easton to be ready to have the kind of relationship they used to have, or even as close as they can get to it again. That patience cushioned my entire college experience. It’s one of his best traits. But that doesn’t change the fact that having to lean on it so heavily in this situation is gut wrenching to witness, it has to be unimaginable to be feeling it firsthand. “I’ll let him tell you about it. But it was good for both parties. Overdue.” His voice is heavy with emotion he’s trying to mask. Suddenly, this phone call is a lot heavier than I hoped for.

Easton’s giddy chatter fills my ears, warring with the ache in my soul. “Hey, Bray?”

“Yeah?”

I’m firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Never feel weird about texting me. You’re my best fucking friend.”

He thankfully agrees, and we hang up just in time for Easton to come rushing to find me. “You’re not going to believe this,” he cries excitedly.

He brings a smile to my face, whether my heart entirely feels it or not. “Tell me, Chaos.”

“Parker wants to take me, me of all people, to a concert. He said I was the first person he thought of. Can you believe that? First.”

I can believe it, but I don’t want to spoil his fun by telling him Parker ran it by me first or that each member of my family feels the need to make up for lost time with him. “You guys are going to have the best time, baby.”

One second, he’s standing in the open door and the next, he’s in my lap with a grin so wide it threatens to crack his face. Absolute perfection. “You’re really okay with me going… like, with your brother.” His eyes widen when he realizes what he’s said. “No. No. Not with your brother, obviously. Oh, my god. You know I wouldn’t?—”

A kiss silences his nervous ramblings. “I know what you meant. And I think it’s great.”

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders for a breath before his eyes widen. “Friendship bracelets.”

I cock an eyebrow at him, I’m completely drawing a blank here. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

He laughs, soft and sweet. “Oh, you poor na?ve man. It means everything.”

The distinct feeling that I’m going to have my hands full with him and my little brother together in the same place settles somewhere inside my ribs, and I welcome the challenge.

~~~

Good news of not having to leave Easton at home by himself means there’s plenty of time to focus on mending some of the more jagged edges he was left with. The domestic routine comes second nature to us, and the ease of it is allowing me to see a whole different side of him. Who he is when his needs are being met consistently is a beautiful thing to behold. Watching him blossom, start to believe in himself all over again, feels sort of like watching Sage take her first breath. Awe-inspiring, monumental, and unworthy of my eyes.

There’s this moment in the morning, after I’ve made the coffee and usually had the time to answer all of an email or two, where he comes stumbling into my office bleary eyed, adorably wrapped in the blanket from our bed where he simply wants to be near me while he wakes all the way up. All it takes is a simple pat to my leg as an invitation for him to glue himself to me for about half an hour while I type one-handed so I can rub his back while he sips from the overly-sweet iced coffee I’ve started leaving on my desk for him next to my own steaming mug.

It’s the highlight of my entire day.

About half the time, he’s started coming with me and Brady to the gym. Probably because if he’s with us, Brady will usually suggest frozen yogurt afterwards, and Easton is heavily motivated by cookies and cream with an abhorrent amount of chocolate sprinkles, but it’s still enough to settle a fraction of the tension that’s rooted itself inside me from being caught in the middle.

Tonight, we decide to switch it up with s’mores around the firepit. Sue me, I’m also dessert motivated, and Easton is… restless.

He shifts his hips as my hand climbs higher on his thigh, but stops just before I’m where he wants me. “Goddamn, it’s too close for comfort,” Brady observes from the other side of the flame.

Game seven is tonight, which is what brought this little get-together on, so we can all soak up the fresh night air and hopefully watch Blakely’s husband win his first championship. She’s been texting me damn near constantly since Texas won game six, forcing another game, a couple of days ago. She’s a yo-yo of calm, cool, and collected, saying things like they’ve totally got this, and Texas doesn’t stand a chance, to threatening to get shit-faced and pass out before it even starts because there’s no way in hell I can watch this. It’s been a fucking nail-biter so far, which I’m sure has Blakely turned entirely inside out by this point, and we’re not even through the third period yet.

“What do you think Landon said to these motherfuckers to have them be fouling him like this?”

Brady coughs a laugh. “He’s definitely been mouthing off by this point. Seven games against the same team so close together is an exercise of his patience.”

I rub circles on the sensitive skin at the crease of Easton’s thigh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you guys know a real live NBA player,” he rushes out to distract himself.

His back is to my chest while we’re stretched out across my outdoor sofa, and the blanket covering our legs and his lap is making me bold. Brady’s engrossed in the TV and isn’t paying my wandering hands on his brother the slightest bit of attention. I severely doubt he could see much in the dark anyway, the shadows from the screen and the firepit are my friends. Teasing Easton and getting him all wound up is way more entertaining than a basketball game, Blake forgive me, but I can appreciate the opportunity it’s providing me to have my fun without him being able to do a damn thing about it.

The spot where his throat meets his shoulder looks all too inviting, so I suck on it, making Easton dig his fingers into his thighs to keep silent. After releasing him, I say, “If you had seen him pining after Blake for years, you wouldn’t say that.”

A soft smile touches his lips. “It’s kind of sweet, though, isn’t it?”

There surely is something clever, or romantic I could have said there, but then Brady yells, “It’s a fucking free throw, my guy, a ten-year-old can do it.”

By the time there’s five minutes left in the game, Easton is squirming impatiently, and L.A. is only five points behind, which seems like a fucking lot to Blakely. Poor thing wasn’t cut out for a life of professional sports, there’s a very good reason Landon always takes her somewhere luxurious in the off-season. “Think they’ll manage to scrape out a win?” I ask Brady. Easton glares at me, most likely for reminding him that we’re not alone, but his patience will be rewarded soon.

Brady rubs his eyes aggressively. “Maybe. They’re tired but so is Texas.”

My sweet Chaos’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, and as my fingers ghost over the warm skin beneath his waistband, I feel him throb. He’s been hard most of the game, and he’s becoming progressively desperate to come. Just what I wanted. My best friend will not be sticking around long.

A couple of lay-ups and a last ditch shot from half court later, I get to see the guy who once passed out in the front yard of a frat house for an entire night win the championship only two seasons into his career, and we catch a money shot of Blakely finding the love of her life in the melee and getting scooped up and kissed within an inch of her life. Easton’s right, it is sweet. Landon and I were never nearly as close as I am to his wife, but there really isn’t a better match for her on the planet. She deserves to have a love that’s seamless, and it was obvious all along that he was prepared to be the guy she wasn’t afraid to fall for. Saying I’m happy for him is a gross understatement.

But now it’s time for the real show. If Easton is harboring any illusions that I’m not going to pounce on him the second Brady is out of sight, he has no idea what he does to me.

“Well, what do you know? Good for Landon. I wasn’t sure they would pull it off,” Brady admits.

“Good for us, too. Basketball season is over for a while.” Brady laughs, and thankfully, pushes to his feet.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” he advises in a teasing tone.

Yeah, I’m not super worried. Blakely didn’t really enjoy it much at first either. She’s his biggest fan, not the sport as a whole. “I’m not sure he’ll be conscious enough to be concerned one way or the other for a while.”

My friend rolls his eyes. “True. She’s going to have to peel him off the floor to get him on the plane this year.”

“Nah, she’ll be down bad right beside him.” The team is already worshiped in Los Angeles. They’re going to get treated better than the King of England when their jet touches down for years to come.

Brady mutters a fond probably before ruffling my hair as he walks past. “You kids have fun.”

Easton flushes crimson, but I only smile. “See you tomorrow, Bray.” He doesn’t know shit about what we’ve been doing, he says that phrase all the damn time, but I’m certainly not telling his brother that. We both twist around and watch through the patio door as Brady makes his way through the house. With one last final wave at the door that we return, my sweet, sweet Chaos and I are alone .

He meets me in a blistering kiss that I return with ferocity. He groans when our tongues connect, tangling in a battle of dominance that is so incredibly unlike Easton, it takes me by complete surprise. He’s submissive by nature, letting me take the reins and make his body feel good. Seeing him take over, rotating on top of me without separating where our bodies are joined, feels like earning another puzzle piece that he’s not quite sure what to do with. This one, unlike the others he’s given me, I know exactly how to handle.

A groan rattles his chest as he deepens the kiss and starts rocking his hips restlessly on my lap, seeking friction. “Unless you want your brother to hear the sounds you make for me, you better get your ass inside, sweetheart,” I growl, nipping his pouty bottom lip.

He scrambles off me faster than I’ve ever seen him move, pausing at the door to look back and ask, “You coming or what?” A challenge darkens his eyes, and it’s one I’m more than ready to accept.

~~~

Easton

The desire in his gaze goes straight to my already aching dick. He wants me. Me. Just as I am. There’s nothing special about my body, I’m not brilliant or beautiful. But the lust darkening his fascinating eyes is enough to have butterflies fluttering madly in my stomach. He’s not calling me attention-seeking or making me earn his affection. I don’t have to be “good” for him to find me attractive and worthy.

Chase is almost predatory in his obvious perusal, cataloging every square inch of me, like he has all the time in the world to drive me crazy. He stands slowly, and I resist the urge to gulp. I want him so fucking much, but no one has ever wanted me a fraction as much as Chase so obviously does. It’s confusing, but there’s no way I’m going to protest. He’s going to wise up one day and be done with me, but until then, I want everything he is willing to give me.

“Where’d you go just now, sweetheart?” he murmurs, a thumb stroking along my cheekbone. I didn’t even notice him approaching me. My train of thought is my worst enemy.

Winding my arms around his neck, I whisper, “I’m glad I have you to myself for the rest of the night.”

It’s not a lie. My relationship with Brady is still strained, despite our talk, and it’s hard to feel like myself around him. But when it’s just me and Chase, all my stress melts away.

“Whatever will we do with the time?” His voice is a deep rumble, full of devious intent that sends a shiver along my spine.

I know what I’m hoping for, that’s for damn certain. “Hmm. Monopoly?”

His eyes crinkle in the corners as he laughs, making my poor, stupid heart skip in my chest. My god, when he laughs. I don’t even stand a chance.

Chase’s lips find mine, and I lose the ability to form words. There is only him. The way his tongue dances with mine, firm and demanding, but also gentle in the way he guides me. My head spins as I melt into the hard planes of his chest. One hand lands on my lower back to support my useless legs and the other finds my shoulder blade, ensuring that there’s not an inch of space between us.

He grunts into the kiss as I start exploring the muscles along his arms and chest, whatever I can reach. His cock is hard against my belly, and I’m sure he can feel mine pressed into his leg. We’re a mess of limbs and desire, sharing each and every breath like our lives depend on it. Mine actually may, come to think about it.

“Inside, Easton, before your brother hears me take you apart all the way from next door,” he growls. I do not need to be told twice.

There is no way to know exactly how he intends to take me apart, but I don’t need the details to know I’m all the way in. Yes, please.

The race is officially on when I comply with his demand, both of us shedding clothes in between kisses. By the time we make it down the hallway and into his room, I’m inexplicably naked and he’s down to only black briefs that sit mouthwateringly low on his hips.

The tattoos decorating his impressive chest tell the story of my favorite person. Some are fantasy related, like the dragon unwinding on his ribs, reminding me of the movie he likes to put on when he’s feeling nostalgic. Others have a nature theme, there’s the one on his forearm that I’ve since learned is one-fourth of a sibling tattoo. My favorites are the little random ones slipped in here and there.

It’s like getting a sketchbook guide to his inner thoughts, which appeals to me way more than it should.

Hunger has swallowed all the blue in his eyes, and when I feel that trail down my body a pathetic noise climbs its way out of my throat. “Pretty big threat you made outside,” I taunt. My voice is huskier than I’ve ever heard it, more like velvet.

A promise hangs in the air between us, one that is so foreign to me, it steals my breath. With Chase, I’m safe. He knows me, has seen the worst side of me and is still here wanting me. I almost don’t know how to behave now that there’s no pressure for me to give myself to him. I simply want to. Desire is running through my veins so rapidly that my head spins. Sensing my need for grounding, he wraps his arms around my waist.

“If you’re not ready…”

I hurry to interrupt. “No. I am. Ready, that is. I just need a second,” I mumble into his chest. It’s just overwhelming. Being wanted, no strings attached that I’ve been able to find. He looks at me like I mean something to him, and I’m trying really fucking hard to not think of the last time that someone saw me like that. Chase existed in the back of my mind for years as this sort of unattainable fantasy. He’d been nice to me and he was hot as sin, even before he was as defined as he is now. It wasn’t exactly voluntary, but it was a safe place to dream about that was just for me.

And now I’ve been dropped into some sort of parallel universe where that guy is standing in front of me mostly naked, and I feel treasured. Precious. Sexy, even. The power exchange has gone straight to my head, and I know I can fucking do this. He’s here, real and warm and wonderful, and I can have him.

Chase’s hands are locked onto my spine, the spot he favors when he’s trying to comfort me without overloading me with words. Something I appreciate more than I can tell him, the way I can feel the things he’s not saying. I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere. It’s enough, more than enough to vanish the last of my nerves.

Winding my arms around his neck, I stand on my toes and capture his lips in a kiss that I can feel down to my fingertips. Warmth creeps up my neck as Chase finds the pace we had set, deepening this kiss. His hands are everywhere, finding every spot that makes me gasp like he has a guidebook of my body tattooed on the back of his eyelids. He encourages me to wrap my legs around his waist before laying me down on the bed.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?” he asks against my mouth.

It’s an effort to pull away, both because sharing every breath with him makes me feel like I can fly, and because there’s a lingering tendril of worry that he’ll bail out and it’ll be my fault. But if we’re going to do this, he needs to see my eyes—see how much I want him. My breath hitches as I connect with his dazzling blues. “I’m sure.”

A wicked glint sparks in his gaze before he answers with a toe-curling kiss. When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I open for him easily. The give and take, the way he reels me in only to make me chase him, is addictive. Desperation finds me fast, making me mewl like a newborn kitten as he kisses a path down my jawline before my neck. Chase keeps going until that magical tongue is lapping at the head of my leaking cock.

I grit my teeth so I don’t shout. Be silent. No one wants to hear a whore. He works me over until I’m a quivering mess. My hands are fisted in the sheets, but all I want is to be holding Chase’s. He’s so thorough in his dedication to my pleasure, making me feel things I didn’t even know were possible. Being so separated from him seems wrong in a way, but I don’t want him to stop.

He releases me no more than a second before I can come down his throat. My mouth falls open uselessly at the denied release. Seeing the look on my face, he chuckles darkly. “Don’t worry, Chaos. I’ve got you,” he swears.

If the goal tonight was taking me apart, he’s doing a damn good job so far. My skin already feels burning hot, I’m shaking, and I may actually die if Chase doesn’t fuck me immediately. He seems no less urgent as he grabs lube and a condom from the nightstand and slicks up his fingers. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

My heart gives a sharp twinge in my chest. He’s given me every chance to say no, but I’m not gonna. If I didn’t know him better, I’d be worried that he was hoping I’d say no just so he doesn’t have to fuck me. But I do know him, Chase keeps my comfort and safety at the forefront of his mind. “Please, Chase. ”

He makes a pained groan. “God. You and those fucking manners.” A smile plays at my mouth. Knowing that I’ve got an effect on him emboldens me.

“Chase, I need you. Make me feel good. Please.” To hell with how desperate that makes me. He deserves all of the vulnerability I can offer.

It flows between us, an invisible river formed from the tears he’s wiped from my eyes. Each piece of myself that I’ve given, he’s used to build a bridge. Normally, it would be scary, I’d be forcing myself to not look down and make it worse. But it’s Chase. One look from him reminds me why I’m doing this, why I’m trying so hard, and I’m not afraid.

He smirks. “As if I could ever deny you.” The first press of his finger against my hole is jarring in its gentleness. His ministrations are coaxing, slowly urging my body to open for him. I could cry. Maybe it’s the carnal need coursing through my veins with each beat of my heart, or the disbelief that comes with watching something I was too afraid to ever truly fantasize about happening right before my eyes. Hell, it could be something else entirely; something darker that I don’t want to give space for in my head.

Chase works in one finger, then two before crooking them and finding my prostate. The bitter taste of copper fills my mouth as my teeth clamp down on my tongue in an attempt not to cry out. Be silent. No one wants to hear a whore. I’m doing my best, but holy shit, those long fingers of his should be illegal.

When he has three of them sliding easily in and out, he eyes me. The lust is so strong, it’s hard to breathe around. If he doesn’t fuck me immediately, I’m going to die. A pang of awkwardness surges in my chest. This is the part that is the hardest for me, the distance. But I roll over as Chase finally loses his underwear and rips the condom open, swallowing my mixed emotions. I get the briefest look at him in all his naked glory, his cock long, thick and absolutely perfect, before my face is buried in a pillow. At least it smells like him. That makes some of the yucky feelings trying to creep in through the cracks in my resolve go away.

Good. There’s no space for any of that. This moment is for me and Chase, something special. My ghosts aren’t welcome here.

Chase runs his hand up my thigh reverently, making my heart clench. He’s too good for me. The way he’s cherishing my body, it’s evident in every single touch. This is important. I’m important to him. The head of his dick presses against my hole, making me clench involuntarily—I really have never been good at this part.

The soothing, rumbly voice from behind me wraps around me like a hug. “Relax for me, baby.” With a deep breath in and out, I do. “That’s it. You’re doing so good,” he praises as his tip enters.

The burn is there, the stinging sensation of being stretched, but it’s less than normal. Manageable, even. I can totally do this. When I notice he’s not moving, hell, not even breathing from what I can tell, it occurs to me what he’s waiting for. “I’m good, Chase. I promise.”

He grunts an acknowledgement before sinking deeper, slowly. So maddeningly slowly that the pain quickly morphs into pleasure before he’s even halfway inside of me. At long last, his thighs brush against my ass, and I breathe a sigh.

If I thought his dick was big before, I was underestimating him. It’s got nothing on how it feels shoved up my ass. The moans threatening to climb their way out of my throat are getting harder and harder to swallow down.

“Fuck, Easton.” It sounds like his teeth are clenched together, just imagining the cords of his neck strained and standing out makes my mouth water. Fuck, I wanna see him. The whine I release is unavoidable. “So tight. Hot. God. Damn.” He punctuates his words with shallow thrusts that I feel in my damn ribs.

It takes shoving my fist in my mouth to keep silent after that. When he moves my legs further apart and pushes on my lower back so it’s arched, I see stars. Each thrust lights me up in the best way. The sound of skin slapping together is obscene. The groans of pleasure mingled in with mumbled praises makes me itch to see his face. See what he looks like as he pounds into me.

Stop it, I scold myself. I’m lucky enough to even be here with him. Be happy with that and leave it the fuck alone.

Chase is ruthless with the pace he’s setting, only the grip he has on my hips is keeping me from sliding up the bed, but there’s no hope for the pillows. They’re everywhere. Probably because I can’t keep my hands still. Reaching for Chase is a temptation I can’t seem to shake. To see, to touch, to fucking kiss. It’s overwhelming. This is the closest I’ve ever been to him, I’m pretty sure I can feel him tickling my tonsils for fuck’s sake, but he’s a million miles away.

Maybe I could say something. He always course-corrects if I need him to, right? He’s never even made me feel bad about it.

But he could.

No. He could, sure, anyone is capable of it, but he never would.

Until he runs out of patience with me.

Jesus, can I just fucking stop? I hate that I’m like this. Just focus on how good your body feels, I tell myself. And holy shit does it. Heat is gathering low in my belly. Each time he rubs against that special spot inside me, it gets more intense. Like it's turning me inside out if I give in to it. My dick aches with the need to be touched, the sheet below me is sticky with pre-come.

But the dark thoughts I’ve been battling to keep at bay are seeping in, warring with the all-consuming pleasure and trying to snuff it out. If Chase says anything, I can’t hear it over the roaring growing in my ears. All the praises he so freely gives become absent, each avenue he uses to reassure me is being stolen. There’s no hearing the sweet words that soothe my racing heart, making my lungs struggle to keep up. If only I could just look into his eyes, I could stave this off. However controlled he tries to remain, I can always see what he feels there.

Just a quick peek over my shoulder, that’s all it would take to solve this. Get me back, present in the moment where I want to be. Where I need to be.

I try to do just that, but there’s something in the way. Something over my head. Unbearable cold starts in my chest and travels through my veins. There isn’t enough air. This is exactly how he liked me. Face buried, so he doesn’t have to look at me, just a warm hole to get him off. Not a person who deserves romance and intimacy.

Any second now, he’ll finish and shove me away. Discard me, like the piece of garbage I am.

I need more fucking air. Please, god, make it stop. Hot tears stain my face as I struggle to breathe. Please, I don’t want this. This can’t be happening again…