Page 15 of Chase Lovett Wants Me

His hand settles on my knee and slowly trails up. My breath catches as his fingertips brush my inner thigh. I’m still stroking him as he dips between my legs and skims my clit. He makes another needy noise as he drags his finger through my slit and circles my entrance.

Normally, reciprocal masturbation is fraught with awkwardness, especially with someone new, but this is just…hot. His mouth drops open, and his tongue peeks out as he eases a single finger inside me. I moan—at the look of desire on his gorgeous face, at the feel of his finger curling against that sensitive place inside me, at the heat of his cock in my hand.

His gaze lifts and a slow smile spreads across his very kissable lips. “Such a pretty precious.”

I wrap my free hand around the back of his neck and drag his mouth back to mine. This kiss isn’t soft and sweet like the first one. It’s fraught with lust and need. We keep kissing and touching. My hand moving over his cock in time with the pump and curl of his finger inside me. He adds a second, stretching me, filling me. We moan and pant, shift and grip and caress.

I break the kiss long enough to say, “One more finger, please.”

“You’re so tight, though. You’re sure?”

“My pussy can handle it,” I pant.

“Fuck, I love that,” he groans.

We both watch as his fingers slide out and he adds a third,pushing back in slowly. I let go of his hair, lick my index finger, and rub circles on my clit.

“That’s so fucking sexy. You’re so fucking sexy, Cammie,” Chase groans.

“So are you,” I murmur. “I’m getting close.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flare with excitement. “Tell me what you need so I can get you there.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” I want this so badly. To come while he’s touching me, to have this experience as fodder for my self-gratification sessions. To be the girl who isn’t afraid to take what she wants.

He curls his fingers. “Like this?”

“That’s it. Right there. That’s the spot.” I keep stroking him and my clit while he rubs the spot from the inside. “Such a good boy,” I murmur.

I bite my lip, because I didn’t mean to say that last part aloud.

His smile turns devilish. “You gonna come all over my fingers, like a good girl, Cammie?”

And that’s it. I’m done for. I moan his name, long and loud as pleasure pulses through me in glorious waves. For a moment I lose my rhythm, too caught up in the sensation washing through me. But as soon as I have control over my limbs again, I tighten my grip and stroke him in earnest.

He grips the edge of the vanity, hips jerking as he angles his erection toward the sink and comes all over the marble.

I wait for the awkwardness to hit post-orgasm, or for him to get all weird about it, but he drops his forehead to my shoulder and turns until his nose brushes my neck and his lips follow. “That was so much fun.”

I laugh. “It absolutely was.”

“Wanna cuddle and try to get a little more sleep?”

“I could be persuaded.”

CHAPTER 8

CHASE

Iwake to Cammie draped across my body. Her leg is thrown over mine, small hand resting on my chest, pillow tucked into the crook of my arm where her head rests. Her long lashes fan across her cheek, her full lips are parted, and every so often she makes a little humming sound. She’s so fucking beautiful. I seriously can’t believe she didn’t enter my orbit albeit fleetingly until last night. I’ve been so caught up in my own shit.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach for it, unsure of the time. The clock flashes four thirteen, but there’s light peeking through the narrow gap in the curtains.

I have messages from the guys and new ones from the university app. Apparently classes and practice are canceled today on account of the storm. Several buildings are without power. While I was getting a bathroom handy, we had a near tornado rip through campus, followed by torrential rain and a hailstorm. Currently, conditions are windy and icy, and the message is to avoid going out for any reason other than emergencies.

Which means I have a whole day with Cammie. Maybe we’ll get each other off again. More than once. Corresponding bodyparts perk up at the prospect. I wish I could reach my backpack so I could pop a mint.

Cammie stretches and her hand slides over my chest, fingers brushing my nipple. As she toys with it, her lips pucker, and her brows furrow. Eventually one lid cracks, then the other. Her eyes dart around and lift to my face. Assessing. Processing.

---