Page 62 of Check & Chase
A new song starts, something slower, and he pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me in a way that feels protective, possessive. We sway together, my head resting on his shoulder, his lips occasionally brushing my temple.
It feels intimate in a way that has nothing to do with what just happened between us.
“What about you?” I ask, suddenly aware that while I found release, he’s still hard against me.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I’ll survive. Tonight was about you.”
“But—”
“Emma,” he cuts me off gently, his eyes sweeping the room. “Not here. Come with me.”
Before I can respond, he’s leading me off the dance floor, retrieving his crutch and navigating through the crowded house. We end up in adarkened hallway that leads toward the back of the house, away from the main party.
He opens a door, revealing a small bathroom—marble countertops, dim lighting, and mercifully, a lock on the door. As soon as we’re inside, he turns the lock and leans his crutch against the wall.
“Better,” he says, pulling me to him for a kiss that makes my already weak knees threaten to give out entirely.
When we part, I’m breathless again. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper, though my body is already responding to his proximity.
“We’ve established that,” he agrees, his hands sliding down to my hips. “But I’m not done with you yet, Blondie.”
He guides me until the backs of my thighs hit the countertop, then lifts me effortlessly to sit on its edge. The position puts me at perfect height for him, and he steps between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs.
“I don’t think I can go again,” I admit, though my body is already betraying that statement.
“Let’s test that theory.”
Before I can respond, he’s dropping to his knees in front of me, pushing my dress up around my waist.
“Chase,” I gasp, realizing his intent. “Your knee—”
“Worth it,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along my inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking about tasting you again for a whole year.”
He hooks his fingers in the sides of my thong, looking up at me for permission. I nod, lifting my hips slightly as he slides the lace down my legs, tucking it into his pocket with a wink.
“Souvenir,” he explains.
“You’re impossible,” I tell him.
“And you’re beautiful,” he counters, his gaze dropping to where I’m exposed to him. “So fucking beautiful.”
Then his mouth is on me, hot and insistent. He knows exactly what he’s doing, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on my clit.
“Oh god,” I gasp, one hand tangling in his hair, mindless of the wolf ears now knocked askew. “Chase.”
He hums against me, the vibration adding a new dimension to the pleasure. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, aware that despite the locked door, we’re still in someone else’s house.
His pace increases, his tongue circling my clit before sucking gently, and somehow, I feel another orgasm building.
So much for not being able to go again.
“I’m close,” I warn.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, and the sight of him between my legs is almost enough to push me over the edge.
“Come for me, Emma,” he commands, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh. “Let me taste you.”
His mouth returns to me, more insistent now, and when he slides two fingers inside me, curling them just right, I shatter again. This time, I have to slap a hand over my mouth to muffle the cry that tears from my throat, my body convulsing with pleasure so intense it borders on pain.
