Page 65 of Full Body Hit: Part 2
Chase was a solid weight at his side, squirming closer still as if he wanted them to melt together. Auston untucked Chase’s blouse and slipped a hand underneath, stroking soft skin and eating up the shudder that followed.
Chase tilted his head up, lips brushing Auston’s jaw. “Daddy,” he whispered, somehow audible over the music, as if the word had a will of its own.
Auston squeezed Chase’s side, his thigh, shifting his head so he could meet Chase’s lips with his own. The kiss was slow and a little dirty, filling Auston up with want. He could feel his pulse in his neck, his hands. He wanted to grab, to drag, to sink into Chase and not let go.
He tried to pull away, but Chase clung on tight, pulling him in with a pleading sound. Auston let it go for a few beats but had parted them for real.
If they kept going, they were gonna give the rest of the bar a show they hadn’t paid for.
Chase whined, but Auston didn’t give in, not even as the Omega kept squirming, the scent of slick clinging in the air.
“Daddy. Let’s go home. I don’t want to wait anymore,” Chase pleaded in his ear.
Fuck. Auston had been good, hadn’t he? He was trying so fucking hard to do this right, but not even a goddamn saint could resist this.
He lasted a whole bleeding hour with Chase wiggling and gasping before giving in.
“Okay, let’s go,” Auston agreed.
“To yours, right? You’re not dropping me off.”
Auston turned to him, taking everything in—the wet, bitten mouth and flushed cheeks, the way every bit of Chase’s body was leaning into him. “Yeah. Let’s go to mine.”
What else could he do? They’d gone on dates. Auston was trying real fucking hard to be emotionally available or whatever the fuck. He wasn’t just claiming his prize and sitting on his laurels.
If Chase wanted it this bad, why keep denying him? Why not fuck him like the Omega was begging for?
They hadn’t driven, so Auston called a car and it was waiting outside when they stepped out of the bar. The cold air was ashock to the system, but it was skin-deep, everything below still boiling, bubbling, pleading.
Chase practically sat on him in the back of the car, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
Even when they got to Auston’s apartment, Chase showed zero interest in inspecting his surroundings, completely focused on Auston. Chase was on him the second the door closed behind them, their coats and shoes still on, the lights off and everything dipped in black.
Auston kissed him back, holding Chase’s face in his hands, controlling the urge to bite. He pulled them apart long enough to discard their outer layers, leaving their boots behind, navigating his apartment in the gloom.
“Do you want something to drink?” Auston gasped.
“No,” Chase said emphatically, struggling to unbutton Auston’s dress shirt, moaning openly into Auston’s mouth as they kissed again, and again, and again.
Auston managed to lead them into his bedroom, picking Chase up for the few steps from the doorway to the bed just to hear Chase squeak and have his legs wind around him.
“Daddy!” Chase admonished, but Auston just laughed, walking them over to the bedside lamp and clicking it on before laying Chase on his sheets.
Auston had to step away for a moment to take it in. Chase’s clothes were rumpled, half his buttons open in his untucked shirt. His hair was a mess, a brown halo. One of his hands stretched out, trying to grab at Auston, face creasing into annoyance, nose wrinkling, and Auston wanted to break him apart. Wanted to rip him to shreds, wanted to put him back together so tenderly Chase would be filled with something new—something bright and beautiful he’d be able to keep for the rest of his life.
Something that would mark him as Auston’s.
“Daddy,” Chase begged, and that was all it took.
Auston shifted them so they were the right way up, head pointing at the headboard. He covered Chase’s body with his, brushing their lips together.
“Baby,” he murmured into Chase, tasting him again, a little deeper now, tongue sliding, everything getting wetter.
Auston’s body throbbed with it. The muscle ache from his stint at the gym was replaced by another type of strain entirely—the feeling of having exactly what he wanted in front of him but stopping short of devouring it all at once.
Chase tried to pull him in, to lengthen the kisses, but Auston resisted until the Omega finally went limp, taking what he was given. The thrill of the collapse lit Auston up—of how good Chase was, his good fucking boy.
Auston trailed his mouth across Chase’s cheek, the line of his jaw, his neck. He licked at the scent gland there, mute but still somewhat sensitive, going by the little shiver the contact inspired.
