Trust (Temptation #3)(28)

“Fuck, you’re a sight right now.”

Tate’s chest was rising and falling with each labored breath, and as his eyes lowered to Logan’s groin, Logan knew he needed to get them into his bedroom before he fucked Tate on the floor where he was kneeling.

“Go and wait for me in my room. Head at the end of the bed, pillow under your hips.”

Tate slowly got to his feet, and as he was about to walk away, Logan stood and reached for his hand. After turning him back, he took his lips again in a fierce kiss, and when Tate pulled away, he gave his fingers a tight squeeze.

“I love you. Now, go.”





* * *



Tate wasn’t sure how he managed to walk from the living room into Logan’s bedroom, but somehow, he’d done it and was now lying as requested—with his head facing the foot of the bed and a pillow under his hips. He’d also snagged one for his head, and with his eyes trained on the door, he waited once again for Logan.

His patience was rewarded when, several frustrating minutes later, Logan appeared. He’d taken off every stitch of clothing and was gloriously naked as he strolled into the bedroom. Tate couldn’t help but thrust his hips into the pillow his cock was nestled on, causing a wicked-hot smile to stretch across Logan’s lips.

“Hmm. Do you like what you see, Mr. Morrison? I know I do. Do that again.”

Tate held Logan’s gaze as he fucked his hips down into the pillow again.

Logan wrapped his fingers around his cock. “Your skin against my sheets looks fucking amazing. From now on, I’m only buying white sheets. That was one of the first things I noticed about you. Well, after your sexed-up hair, gorgeous face, and tight ass.”

With every word that left Logan’s mouth, Tate continued to rock his hips. Then Logan walked around to the bedside table, and he heard the drawer open and shut. Soon after, the bed dipped, and Logan was climbing on top of it.

Tate was shocked he’d been able to hold off for so long as turned on as he was, but he’d be damned if he went off before he felt Logan inside him tonight. He’d been thinking—hell, fantasizing—about being taken all afternoon, and he would wait—even if it killed him.

“Spread your legs.”

Logan’s voice penetrated his lust-addled brain, and as Tate parted his legs, he felt Logan’s palms smooth up the back of his thighs to cup his ass.

“Goddammit, Tate,” Logan whispered as he spread his cheeks apart, and Tate shoved his hips back toward the reverent man behind him. “I want you so damn much.”

Before he knew that it would come out of his mouth, Tate said, “Good thing I’m yours then.”

He felt Logan’s cock between his ass cheeks as he crowded down over him, and when the sharp scrape of teeth dug into his shoulder, he bucked his hips back.

“Yes, with what I have planned, it’s a very good thing.” Logan pressed a kiss to his ear and asked, “See the corner of the mattress over there?”

Tate focused on the edge of the bed and wondered what he was getting at—then Logan told him.

“Feel free to bite it when I’m fucking you so hard your throat is hoarse from shouting.”

Oh fuck. Trouble had most definitely found him, and its name was Logan Mitchell.





* * *



Logan ground his body against all of Tate’s naked skin, and as he rolled his hips over the ones pushing against him, a low growl rumbled out of his throat. He’d wondered what Tate’s reaction would be to the words flying out of his mouth, and with each raw, unfiltered promise he’d given, Tate’s arousal had increased until he was practically fucking the pillow for some kind of release.

The sounds coming from the man writhing around under him were so fucking erotic that Logan’s desire to wait any longer vanished. Moving back so he was kneeling between Tate’s legs, he rolled on a condom and then grabbed the bottle of lube to pour a good amount down the crack of Tate’s ass. When his cheeks clenched from the shock of cold liquid, Logan’s mouth pulled into a tight grin. But Tate had nothing to worry about, because in around five seconds, things were going to heat up real fucking fast.

Throwing the bottle out of his way, Logan lowered down over Tate, stroked his finger along the slippery crease, and pushed the tip against the small pucker. A loud groan left Tate, and when he turned his head on the pillow, Logan’s desire intensified at the look in his eyes.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan teased and inched his finger in deeper.

Tate’s lips parted as he nodded. “Yeah.”

Logan took his mouth in a hard kiss, and thrust his finger in all the way, causing a curse to escape Tate as his tight hole clenched around him. He slid his finger in and out of him several times. Then he pulled away to kneel between his thighs.