Trust (Temptation #3)(86)
* * *
Logan dragged his eyes away from Tate’s and ran them down the length of his spine. The guy’s skin is fucking delicious, he thought as he smoothed his palms down his sides and placed a kiss at the base of his neck. Tate’s hair tickled his nose, and Logan smiled as he started to trace his tongue down the long line of him. When he got to the curve of his lower back, he slipped his fingers into the black pants and crouched to pull them over the rise of Tate’s ass.
As he dragged them and his boxers to his ankles, Tate’s eyes found his in the mirror. He put a hand on the side of the vanity to balance himself and then lifted his foot without the need for instruction.
Once Tate’s remaining clothes were gone, Logan let the connection between them be severed so he could focus on the ass he was now eye level with. He ran his index fingers up the insides of Tate’s legs to behind his knees, and when he got to them, he flirted there for a moment, drawing invisible circles.
“Tate?” he asked, moving so he could rest his temple against Tate’s hip.
“Yeah?”
Logan turned his head and nipped at the smooth skin of his hipbone. “I can’t see when I’m down here,” he explained, and then he turned back to Tate’s heated gaze in the mirror. “So you’re going to have to tell me what I’m missing.”
One of Tate’s hands circled his cock and he started to masturbate for him with a tense look of concentration on his face.
Oh, yes. He loves that idea.
Logan grabbed his bag from the stool beside him and unzipped it to get the bottle of lube he’d packed. He then placed it on the counter for later, shoved the bag aside, and shifted out of view. Tate’s body rocked forward, slightly away from him, and Logan knew he was fucking his fist. But there was no sound in the room other than—yes, there it is—the ragged bursts of air that kept escaping Tate with every snap of his hips.
Logan grinned as he sank his teeth into the firm globe of Tate’s ass, and when a feral fucking growl came from above, he said, “I don’t hear you talking, Tate.” He ran his hands over the rounded curve of Tate’s behind and then gave it a sharp pinch.
“Shit, Logan.”
Logan chuckled and then kissed the abused spot before saying, “Start talking. What do you see?”
* * *
What do I see? Tate thought as he continued to stroke himself and think about Logan kneeling behind him.
“I see me, standing naked in an expensive hotel suite. The curtain is open on the side of the room, and I see your clothes all over the bed behind us…which is fucking hot.” He braced his left hand on the side of the vanity as Logan chose that moment to run his tongue over the dip of his lower back.
“What else?”
Tate felt his breathing speed up as his eyes took in the X-rated picture in front of him. “I see one of my hands against the vanity and one pumping my cock—” He abruptly stopped talking as Logan stood up behind him and drew his fingers lightly down his crack to his balls.
“Come on, Tate,” Logan taunted. “Don’t you know by now? I want details.” His hand gently cupped his sensitive sac, and he blew a hot breath against his ear. “All the dirty ones.”
Tate closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get ahold of himself, when Logan decided to make that a nearly impossible task.
“Mhmm. But while you’re thinking about it,” he said, and Tate opened his eyes to watch as Logan walked around the side of him and moved between him and the vanity, leaning his bare ass against the table. “Why don’t you put your foot up on this stool and watch me suck your balls into my mouth before I swallow you down my throat.”
Tate groaned as his eyes shifted to the mirror beyond Logan’s shoulder, and then, without hesitation, he placed his foot on the small upholstered stool. The salacious smile on Logan’s mouth as he dropped to his knees had Tate once again bracing himself against the vanity wall, ready for anything. His eyes took in their reflection, and this time, he found his voice.
“Fuck. Okay,” he rushed out on a breath of air when he saw the back of Logan’s powerful shoulders shift as one of his palms cupped his ass. “I can see you on your knees in front of me. The back of your head and hair, and every time you smooth your hand over my ass, your shoulder blades—”
Logan leaned in where his leg was raised and dragged his tongue down his thigh to suck one of his balls between his lips.
“Oh, Jesus, Logan.” Tate tightened a fist around himself and shut his eyes, fighting back the orgasm that was building. He squashed it down, knowing that, if he could hold it off somehow, the reward would be out of this world. He felt Logan’s lips sucking the tender flesh scrunched high between his legs and forced himself to open his eyes. He didn’t want to miss a fucking thing.