He took my hand and guided it to his boner.
I softly gasped, feeling the hardness press beneath his jeans.
I let my hand trace it. It was Thick and heavy, so real.
His breath hitched, and he let out a low, primal sound as I caressed his full length through the fabric.
“Fu*k!” he groaned, his voice ragged against my neck, “you are driving me insane”.
I was already a moaning mess, my body melting under his mouth, trembling from the way he worshipped me with every kiss, every touch.
He kept kissing down my neck, lingering at the sensitive spot beneath my ear. I felt his hips subtly rock into my hand as I stroked him, slowly, teasingly. The way his body responded—tense, hungry, barely in control—ignited something deep inside me.
I wanted more.
Craved it.
He pulled back suddenly, eyes wild and dark with need, and before I could say a word, his mouth found mine again—rougher this time. Desperate. Possessive.
The kiss swallowed my moan, stole what was left of my breath. His hands tangled in my hair, mine still stroking him, and we kissed like we were drowning in each other.
His hands slid under my shirt confidently, making my breath catch.
I wasn’t wearing a bra.
He found that out instantly.
His palms cupped my breasts like he already knew every curve, every soft, sensitive spot. And when his fingers brushed over my n*****s—already hard and aching—I gasped so sharply it echoed off the walls.
Then he pinched one.
Gently. Teasing.
And I moaned—loud.
Too loud.
I clapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide with shock, but he only chuckled darkly against my skin.
“Let them hear,” he murmured, his voice rough and sinful as he rolled my n****e between his fingers again. “I want them to know what I do to you.”
I couldn’t think. Could barely breathe.
Every flick, every squeeze of his fingers sent sparks shooting through me, tightening the heat that coiled low in my belly.
I arched into him, desperate for more, grinding against his thigh as my hand still rested over the bulge straining beneath his jeans. He felt so big. So hard. And I was soaked.
He leaned in again, tongue dragging along the shell of my ear.
“You’re so damn responsive,” he growled, nipping my lobe. “So sensitive. I could make you come just from this.”
And honestly?
He probably could.
I was already dripping wet.
“Lets take ihis somewhere more private before I f**k you and make you scream flounder than the music here.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, thinking of his words. I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
I barely notice our environment as he pulls me out of the bar.
Once we entered the elevator, we were all over each other again. We kissed and touched each other as much as we could.
We didn't even know when the elevator stopped until we heard a throat clearing. Behold, it was an elderly couple standing outside the elevator, looking horrid.
We hastily apologized as Chase pulled me along with him.
Once he opened his door, Chase pulled me in for another hot, mouthwatering kiss. I wish I could stop kissing him.
I don't know how long we kissed until we were out of breath.
I pushed him on the bed and slowly removed my dress. I was now standing in nothing but my black thong.
“Damn it Miya you have are f*****g prefect!” Chase swore as he stared at me with so much lust.
His words gave me more confidence, and I moved towards the bed and knelt before him.
He sat on the edge of the bed, legs parted, chest rising and falling with anticipation.
I was kneed in between his legs with breath shaky, heart pounding like a drum in my chest. My fingers moved to his jeans, slowly undoing the button, teasing the zipper down as he watched me with dark, hooded eyes.
When I freed him, I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me.
Thick. Hard. Yet warm and velvet-soft against my hand.
I wrapped my fingers around him, marveling at the weight and heat, at the way his breath caught the moment I began to stroke him, slow, curious, teasing.
His breath hitch and a bit of pre c*m was visible. It looked so tasty that I couldn't help but lick it.
“O f**k!” Chase moaned as he held my hair in a fist. “Baby..” he groaned with his head tilted back.
That reaction spurred me on.
I wanted to make him fall apart. Wanted to hear him lose control for me.
I used my mouth and my hands, slow at first, then deeper, until his grip in my hair tightened and his hips began to shift with mine.
He moaned my name like it was a prayer.
I could feel him hitting the back of my throat as tears rolled down my face. Yet I didn't want to stop. I want him to c*m undone.
“My turn,” Chase growled, lifting me effortlessly and laying me back on the bed. His hands moved with purpose, spreading my thighs as he settled between them like he belonged there, like he’d been dreaming of this moment for far too long.
His mouth crashed into mine, claiming me, while one hand slid lower, teasing me through the thin fabric of my thong. The other hand cupped my breast, his thumb brushing my sensitive n****e, and he kept switching, mouth to chest, chest to mouth, until I was a gasping mess beneath him.
Then his lips began a trail down my neck, between my breasts, along my stomach.
When he reached my hips, he didn’t hesitate.
The sound of fabric tearing made me gasp.
Then his mouth was on me.
“Oh God… Oh God!” I cried, my body arching, shaking from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Not God, baby,” he murmured wickedly, voice muffled against my skin. “I want you to scream my name.”
His grip on my hips tightened as he buried himself between my thighs, feasting like a man starved. His tongue moved with devastating precision, teasing, circling, then diving deep until my legs trembled and my fingers clutched the sheets.
“Ch–Chase… please…” I whimpered, unable to form words, only feeling.
He didn’t stop.
He got hungrier.
And when the wave finally crashed over me, I shattered, crying out his name like it was the only word I knew.
He licked me gently, thoroughly, as I lay breathless beneath him.
“You taste amazing,” he murmured, his voice full of pride and pure sin.
His mouth glistening, eyes burning with heat and something more profound—something that made my chest ache.
He hovered there, his body perfectly carved above mine, his hand brushing a stray curl from my cheek as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this… open for me.”
I didn’t have words.
Just need.
So I reached for him.
He groaned as our skin touched—bare, hot, and aching for more. I could feel the length of him pressing against me, thick and pulsing with want.
“Are you ready?” he asked, voice low, strained.
I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
He slid in slowly.
The stretch was delicious—deep, slow, intense.
I gasped, gripping his shoulders as he filled me inch by inch, our bodies locking together like they were made for this. For each other.
“God… you feel like heaven,” Chase groaned, his forehead pressed to mine as he rocked into me, deeper, deeper still.
Our bodies moved in perfect rhythm—his hips rolling, my back arching, our breaths tangling in the silence between gasps and moans. Every thrust sent a spark spiraling through me, lighting up every nerve, every inch of skin.
He kissed me again, slower this time, as if savoring how I felt around him, and I clung to him like he was the only thing tethering me to this world.
My nails dug into his back as pleasure built again—higher, hotter, consuming.
“Chase…” I breathed, lost in him, in this.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his thrusts growing more intense, more urgent. “Let go of me.”
And I did.
I fell.
Hard.
The release tore through me like a storm, and Chase followed with a guttural cry, his arms locking around me, holding me like he never wanted to let go.
We stayed tangled, breathless, trembling until the world stilled again.