“Forgive my impatience, but it’s your own fault.” He paused when he saw Tate’s arms wrap around the pillow under him and bring it up against his chest. “Not only are you the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but I know you get super fucking excited when my finger is in your ass. So this time, I’m going to get my cock in you before you explode all over my pillow there.”
A grunt left Tate as his head dropped to the mattress and he jacked his hips back. Logan grabbed his hip to hold him in place and used his other hand to line his cock up. Then he gnashed his teeth together and slowly slid inside Tate’s body.
“Ah, Jesus, Tate,” he growled, and when Tate propelled himself backwards and he sank in all the way, a curse tore from Logan. “Fuck yes. That’s it. Take all of me.”
He ran his palms over Tate’s ass cheeks, spreading them a little, and then up his back before planting his hands by his sides and leaning down to kiss his spine. Tate shifted and his shoulder blades bunched, and Logan smiled against his skin, knowing exactly what he needed.
With his body molded to every inch of the gorgeous one laid out under him, Logan started to move. He pulled his hips back and then began to drive his steely length in and out of Tate, picking up more momentum with each hard thrust.
He kissed and sucked the line of his shoulder as he tunneled deeper with every solid punch of his hips. Tate arched back and turned his head toward him. Looping an arm around his neck, Logan held him in place, spearing his tongue between desperate, hungry lips.
Never had he gone at Tate with such ferocity, and never had Tate craved it like this. But when their mouths parted and their eyes clashed, Tate issued his own request with one simple word.
“Harder.”
* * *
Tate clutched the pillow under him as Logan’s cock shoved back inside him with enough force to propel him up the bed. A harsh cry left his throat and he reached out and clenched the corner of the mattress, just as Logan had originally suggested, pulling himself up toward it.
The rhythm of Logan’s body didn’t falter as he followed close behind and stretched out to clasp his hands over the top of his. He entwined their fingers and started to jam his hips against him at an unrelenting pace, and Tate could feel his hot breath against his neck as he panted and cursed with every fuck of his hips.
It was unrestrained, it was passionate, and as Logan’s teeth sank into the skin of his shoulder, Tate thought that it was absolute perfection. Logan had finally let go and was taking him the way Tate knew he’d always wanted.
Every time before this, he’d always been careful, gentle, and somewhat considerate—but not this time.
The man who was plowing into him over and over had lost any decorum his suit and tie afforded and had morphed into a man who was taking exactly what he wanted, how he wanted—and Tate fucking loved it.
“Yes. Harder, Logan,” he rasped and then did as Logan had advised earlier. He clamped his teeth onto the mattress as Logan tensed behind him and shouted his name with a final thrust of his hips.
The high of knowing Logan had just come so spectacularly had Tate pushing back, trying to get more. When Logan pulled out, he almost sobbed at the loss until he was flipped over and Logan wrapped his fingers around his cock.
Without a word, Logan lowered his head over him and took his erection down his throat, causing Tate to buck his hips up in an effort to get closer. His hands started to stroke Logan’s hair, but when Logan’s mouth slid up and down his cock, Tate lost the ability to think and white-knuckled the sheets on either side of him so he could fuck that wicked mouth.
The sounds of pleasure that came from Logan as he greedily swallowed him time and time again drove Tate beyond his sanity. He shut his eyes, letting himself get lost in the moment, and then he gave one final shove down Logan’s throat and came on a thunderous roar. No one had ever come close to understanding what he wanted in bed—not the way Logan did.
Once the calm after the storm had settled, Logan moved up his body, and Tate wrapped his arms around him. As they both lay there, in the silence of the room, neither one of them said a word—because, really, there was nothing to add to such perfection.
Chapter Eight
“Tate?” Logan said softly from where he lay with his head resting on his shoulder. He’d been there for a good hour or so, and when Tate shifted under him, he rolled to his side to see sleepy eyes now opening. “Sorry. I didn't realize you were sleeping.”
“Nah, was just relaxing. You wore me out.”
He placed his lips against Tate’s ear and gently kissed it. “Then my job here is done.”