I’m sucking, squeezing, taking him as deep as I can without activating my gag reflex. It’s almost as though Chase knows my limits and, while he keeps on moving, he never takes it too far. I choke, but I don’t gag, and when I need a breather, I jerk my head enough to swirl my tongue around the head of his cock.
“Fuuuck.” He turns the one-syllable word into three with his sustained groan. “That’s it, baby. You know how to make me feel good.”
Not really, but I’m trying.
I have no idea why, but I don’t stop until he taps me on the shoulder.
It’s clear he wants me to withdraw so that he can finish on the ground. And, normally, that’s what I would do.
But this… this is different.
I don’t release his cock until I’ve taken every last drop Chase Knight has, swallowing it with the most lascivious smile I can give him.
“Sorry,” I say, swiping at the corner of my mouth with my thumb, peering up at him through the fringe of my eyelashes. “The lurkers can have your next load, baby. That one was for me.”
I don’t know what it was that I said—or if my head game was just that good—but a change comes over Chase. His eyes seem to flash in the moonlight and, pausing only to tuck his spent cock inside of his jeans and zipping up again, he hooks his hands under my pits. Before I can squeal at how ticklish I am—not what I’m going for as a kick ass zombie hunter—he hefts me easily to my boots.
I open my mouth to thank him because, when you’ve just had your tongue all over a guy’s dick, it doesn’t hurt to be polite, but Chase takes the parting of my lips as an invitation.
Clutching me to him, he kisses me. This isn’t like any of the times before. Back in the Grave, when he was trying to convince me to stay, or when he was trying to rev me up so that I could forget that Darryl was masturbating at the thought of forcing me and Chase to fuck. Oh, no. There’s definitely some wild abandon and hopeless desperation in this kiss.
I don’t know if he can taste himself on my tongue. The way he thrusts his jean-clad leg between my thighs, shifting his position enough to make me ride his, I don’t think he gives a shit about that. So I was just letting him fuck my mouth. As I experience a tightness down in my groin, the realization that I’m so fucking turned on, I’m about to come just from the friction of his jeans rubbing through mine, I rip my face away from Chase’s.
I’m panting. Okay. Maybe I’m moaning under my breath, too, but I get that shit under control and fast. I don’t know how I lost the upper hand as quickly as I did. One look at the cocky smirk Chase can’t quite hide, as though he justknowshow much he affected me… yeah.
We’re done here.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand this time, then start to stumble away on undeniably shaky legs.
Chase’s smirk dies a quick death. “Where are you going?”
Far, far away. “Back to the campsite,” I tell him. “Someone has to check on the fire.”
“Let it burn.”
If only.
“You should head back, too. One of us can take watch. The other should get some sleep.”
And don’t ask me about Maverick again, Chase. Just… don’t.
From the look on Chase’s face, he wants to, but he doesn’t. He also has no intention of heading back yet himself, and he plans on keeping me with him a little longer.
How do I know that? Besides the fact that I knowChase, it’s in the way that he bounds toward me, tethering me by my wrist like the handcuffs had.
“Chase—”
“Do you feel anything?”
Plenty. None of it acceptable, and I hide the truth of my conflicting emotions by snapping, “Like what? What am I supposed to feel?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Lurkers, Holden. You’ve got this new sensing ability in the Outside. Can you use it for me? What do you feel? Are there any near?”
Truth is, the butterflies in my belly have nothing to do with the threat of the lurkers and everything to do with the man caressing the underside of my wrist with his fingers.
There aren’t any lurkers nearby and I tell him so, and that’s probably why I’m so taken aback when Chase picks up Rory’s jacket, hands it to me, then commands me to, “Run.”
Run? I would run if there were lurkers there, if he heard a rogue, but that’s not fear or concern etched in every line of his handsome face.