Trust (Temptation #3)(89)

He walked around to the side of the bed and lay down across the king-sized mattress so he could see himself in the mirror along the vanity.

Logan came around to where his legs were hanging over the edge and moved in between, nudging his thighs apart. Fully erect, he looked like some kind of sexual god come to tempt mere mortals, and Tate sure as hell was tempted. He’d been tempted ever since he’d dared him to try, and now, as Logan stood there, he was fucking thankful he’d given in.

“You’re looking really fucking good, Tate,” Logan said as he trailed his eyes over him.

Tate reached down to rub himself, trying to ease the ache that was now a constant throb between his legs.

“Put your feet up on the edge of the bed.”

Breathing was becoming more of a challenge with every word out of Logan’s mouth, but it was when he lowered down to his knees beside the bed that Tate thought he would stop breathing altogether. Quickly, he reached to the side for one of the small pillows at the head of the mattress. He shoved it behind his head, trying to see, but then he realized he didn’t need that—he had the mirror.

Throwing the pillow out of his way, he laid his head flat on the mattress and turned just in time to see Logan’s muscled thighs bunch as he knelt by the bedside. The hard cock that had been inside him only minutes ago was fully engorged and visible, and as Tate’s eyes shifted farther up his body, he found his own bent leg in the way of his view and lowered it.

He wanted to see everything, and as he watched, Logan turned his head to the vanity and caught him spying. One of his dark eyebrows rose as if to say, Caught ya, and he reached forward, grabbed his thighs, and hauled him to the edge of the bed. The smile that stretched across Logan’s mouth then was filthy as fuck, and when Tate arched his hips in response, his foot slipped off the mattress.

“That’s right. Watch me,” Logan invited, and then he turned, lowered his head, and dragged his tongue over the base of his cock.

The strangled sound that escaped his throat was loud, and he tried to put his foot back on the mattress so he could push up into Logan’s face. But after a couple of failed attempts, Logan took his ankle and placed it over his muscled shoulder.

With his other leg lying flat and his hips angled up, the picture Tate was seeing was so fucking indecent that he couldn’t believe he was in it. But as Logan’s tongue drew a direct path to the tip of his cock and he saw his own hands reach down and grip all of that black hair to keep him in place, he remembered that the picture was his reality.

“Logan,” he cried out when Logan swallowed him back down his throat. He kept his eyes glued to the man who was bent over him, making a meal out of him.

“You taste so fucking good,” Logan told him as he lifted his head and caught his stare. His eyes were so dark that Tate thought they were close to black, and Logan bit his swollen lip like he was trying to taste him again. “You love watching me suck your dick, don’t you, Tate?”

Tate thrust his hips up, and Logan ran his eyes over him in the reflection. Then his fingers were moving, trailing down to—

“What about this?” Logan asked, their eyes still locked as he slowly pushed his finger inside him. “You like watching me do this?”





* * *



As Logan turned his attention back to the feast splayed out in front of him, he eagerly watched his finger disappear inside Tate, who looked as if he were about to pass out from what he was experiencing.

The sounds he was pulling from him were making Tate’s voice hoarse, and they had him pressing his own cock against the side of the bed, needing to ease the ache in some way, as the man lying before him splintered apart under his hands and his mouth.

He tongued the strip of skin just above where his finger was penetrating, and as Tate shoved his hips up toward him for more, Logan trailed his tongue down and delivered. He removed his finger and licked over the tight pucker he was two seconds away from fucking, and when Tate’s heel dug into his shoulder and his second leg came up to plant itself on the mattress, Logan knew he was close to losing it. He slipped his hands under Tate’s ass and pulled him up to taste every part of him he could reach. When he slid two fingers inside him, a loud curse flooded his ears.

Pushed way beyond the limits of his control, Logan scissored his fingers apart a few times and then pulled them free of Tate’s body before he stood. Tate’s eyes had been fixated on the mirror until that moment, but he turned his head and locked gazes directly with him.

Logan grabbed the lube on the counter and poured some into his hand while Tate feverishly worked his palm up and down. He then walked back to the mattress, and when Tate scooted back, Logan placed a palm on his thigh.