OBLIVIOUS | FanFic: Logan Paul |

Trapped |16|

"I just don't want to lose anymore time with y-you." His voice cracked, but I didn't say anything in fear of disrupting the moment.

I placed my (left) hand on his (right) cheek, gently turning his face to look me in the eyes. I bit my lip and pulled his head down a little.

"Can you just hold me?" I whispered, trying to fight back the water clouding my eyes.

His face went soft and he nodded fiercely, my fingers massaging his neck where his dirty blonde hair stopped.

"Of course." He permitted. "I'll always hold you, in better or worse."

He whispered softly as I felt him hug me closer to his body, kissing my forehead.

Almost like that was the last time he'd see me.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The thought made me sick to my stomach, so I pushed it out of my mind.

Closing my eyes, I sank further into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist and locking my hands near the small of his back. The familiar plane of his muscles, the warmness of his skin, put me at ease immediately. My cheek rested against the top of his sculpted torso, where I placed the palm of my hand, winding my fingers through his chest hair. I wished things could stay like this forever, but suddenly, I felt selfish.

"Sorry I'm keeping you from your work."

Logan grunted, pushing me back slightly as he flung off his shirt.

"Are you kidding me? Don't fuckin worry about that."

My breathing hitched as his arms rose and fell, dominant and muscular against his fully exposed torso. It never failed to amaze me how confident he was in his own skin. In fact, there was a glow to him this way, almost as if he felt...free.

And my god, was it hot.

His abdomen was a work of art, but my eyes wandered to the stretch marks near his left shoulder—three faint red lines that were jagged, imperfect, and somehow beautiful. My fingers hovered above his bare skin, tracing them one by one. The first was longer, wider than the rest, and I pressed my forefinger to the middle, intrigued by the branching red lines that looked like tiny veins.

Logan chuckled, placing his chin on top of my head.

"Ana, whatareyoudoin?"

Tiny, red veins.

Bringing my hand up to his cheek, I smiled, closing my eyes.

"Nothin."

Resting his hand over my own, he leaned into my palm.

Skin against skin.

.....

There was a long silence, shattered by his next words.

"I'm serious about wanting you to live here."

His breathing was labored, almost as if he was struggling to get the words out.

"I know this isn't exactly an ideal situation, but—"

Sighing, I brought my hand down.

Had he listened to nothing I said in the past five minutes?

"Let's just not talk about this anymore, ok?"

He released a heavy breath, resistant to let the subject go.

"But Ana, we have to."

I straddled his waist, locking my hands around his hips. After all, there was only one way around his stubbornness.

"No."

Inching forward, I lowered my voice to a seductive whisper. My breasts grazed against his chest, I was so close.

"We don't."

Logan responded immediately, placing his hands across my jawbone, then angling his head to the side, blue eyes trained right on my lips.

Aha.

It was only a matter of time before he would kiss me, I knew, and my heart raced as he leaned forward. The small details of his face were what I craved—the freckle in the middle of his neck, the stubble around the line of his jaw, even the blemish near the side of his mouth. My heart beat quicker as he puckered his lips, more beautiful the closer up you got. Close was never damn close enough...

Logan sighed against my lips, scratching the back of his neck in frustration.

"Fuck. Not like this."

Hurt, I pulled away from him.

"What do you mean, not like this?"

"Ana..."

"No, don't Ana me. I want answers."

Logan ran his hands through his hair in frustration, tugging at the ends that jutted just slightly over his forehead. It was already starting to get so long...

"I'm not good with..."

Dammit.

Before I could think about it, my fingers roamed to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. I tossed it behind me, facing him in nothing but my black, lacy bra.

Heart beating a million miles a minute, I waited.

"With what?"

Blue eyes gaping at me, the muscles in his jaw clenching and un-clenching, he lost all control.

"—I-I..."

I leaned towards him, tilting my head to the side and narrowing my eyes to slits.

"Yes?"

"...forgot what I was bout to say."

And just like that, we were kissing.

Logan moaned slightly as my fingertips fell against his chest, solid and warm. His own hands snaked their way upwards, unclasping my bra skillfully, like he'd done it many times.

I tried not to think about that part.

He began cupping my breasts forcefully, and this time, I didn't stop him. I never wanted him to stop.

Pushing me back, all the way against the wall, he pinned my arms from behind while he kissed my neck, slow and sweet. There was no thought of a struggle against his strength.
He had me trapped, both physically and emotionally.

But when did he not?

"Congratulations," he whispered. "You're all mine now."

We were breathless in seconds, and Logan wasted no time, scooping me up and onto his mattress—the mattress flat on the floor, without a bed frame. But I didn't care about that either.

Our eyes locked when he put his hand down the waistband of my shorts, then the fabric of my underwear.

He gave me this smug stare, like he was asking for permission, but knew it was already granted.

And it was.

.....

A loud noise out the window disrupted the moment, and Logan groaned in annoyance, turning to make sure the balcony door was closed.

"Shut up," he muttered, "I'm vlogging."

This made me laugh uncontrollably, and Logan rolled on top of me, covering my mouth with his hands.

"Shhh, I'm not that funny."

"No," I corrected, as he bent down and kissed each of my breasts.

"You're fucking hilarious."