He’s so fucking beautiful.
I should move. Probably should’ve moved ten minutes ago. But I don’t.
Because it feels… good.
Logan murmurs something into the pillow, then shifts and slides closer, nuzzling into my neck like it’s a reflex. A second later, his lips press softly to my skin. It’s not even a real kiss. Not really. Just a sleepy, subconscious brush of his mouth against my skin.
But it knocks the breath out of me anyway.
I shift a little, trying not to wake him, but his eyes crack open and blink a few times.
I turn onto my side and reach up, pushing the mess of curls off his forehead, my fingers lingering longer than they should.
He lets out a low hum, his arm tightening around my waist.
“Mornin’, Hayes,” he mumbles, his voice scratchy and deep, sending another shiver through me.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
He nudges his nose against my neck again, then grins. “You always this clingy in the morning?”
I scoff. “You’re literally wrapped around me right now.”
“And you were literally staring at me.”
My face heats. “I wasn’t staring.”
He hums like he doesn’t believe me—because I was, obviously—but doesn’t push it. Just stretches, his thigh sliding further between mine.
Fuck. That’s his cock. Hard. Pressed right up against my thigh.
His fingers twitch where they’re resting low on my stomach. “I like this,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep. “Waking up in your bed.”
I swallow. “Yeah?”
He nods, his lips brushing my skin again. “Yeah.”
There’s a beat where we just look at each other. Then his hand slides up, his palm splaying over my chest. He doesn’t say anything about how fast my heart’s going—but he’s gotta feel it.
He just leans in and kisses me, softly, slowly, and I melt into him, my eyes fluttering closed as his tongue brushes mine. But then his hips shift and my eyes fly open.
We both suck in a breath when our cocks brush, already half-hard, trapped between us. We move slowly, our hips rocking together, the friction so fucking good.
A groan slips out of me before I can stop it, and Logan grins against my mouth, rolling his hips again. His hand drags down to the back of my thigh, pulling my leg over his waist.
“Fuck,” I breathe, tilting my head back.
“You want more?” he asks, his breathy voice fanning against my throat as we grind together.
I nod, my hips jerking when he grinds against me again. “Show me. Please.”
His fingers catch my jaw, tipping my face back toward his. He kisses me again, deeper this time, slower. When he finally pulls back, he just looks at me, his gaze flicking over every inch of my face.
“You ever played with your ass before?”
I shake my head, heat rushing to my face. “No.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Straight boys and their asses.”