How did I ever think that I’d be the one to win this battle of wills? The man is gorgeous and stubborn, and he has the ability to bring me to my knees.
Kicking off his shoes and pushing his pants and boxers down, Logan was happy to see that even though Tate was still mad, his body was responding to him, regardless. Tate’s erection, both veiny and thick, pointed right at Logan before Tate reached down with a wet hand and stroked it while his eyes stayed on him.
Logan made his way to the glass shower door, pulled it open, and stepped inside, facing the soaked man in front of him. As the water sluiced down over Tate’s body, making his hair stick to his head, Logan couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his own hand around the blushing thick erection Tate was fisting.
Stepping forward, Logan met Tate halfway, and the second their mouths collided, every thought Logan may of had about slow and sweet went straight out the door. God, this is pure heaven. Tate’s mouth was hot and wet as it moved under his, and the noise that rolled out of him was like music to Logan’s ears.
Raising a hand to Tate’s shoulder, Logan pulled his mouth away as he ran his palm down along the smooth, wet skin and ordered, “Turn around, and face the wall.”
Tate blinked at him, and the water that was caught on his eyelashes sparkled under the bathroom lights as he sucked his bottom lip and slowly moved forward. Then, without question, he turned around.
Before Tate was even in place, Logan encroached on that perfectly bronzed back and wedged himself between Tate’s rounded ass cheeks. Loving the feeling of finally having his cock where he’d been dying to put it, he sank his teeth into Tate’s shoulder, sucking up the beads of water as he felt the spray hit his side.
Tate bucked into him, and Logan asked again, “Do you forgive me?” as he bent his knees and slid his erection up through the most toned ass cheeks he’d ever seen.
Tate’s palms flattened against the tile wall as he used it to drive back on him, telling Logan once again, “No.”
Cursing out his frustration, Logan licked his way up Tate’s neck to his ear and threatened, “Don’t you fucking move, you hear me?”
“Or else?” Tate dared to ask.
“Or else, when you want to move, I won’t let you.”
Tate turned his head and looked back at him, “Is this how you ask for forgiveness by being a bossy, mean—ohhh…”
Tate’s words stopped on a groan as Logan dipped his knees again, sliding his rod against him.
“No. This is me showing you with my body that you’re the most spectacular thing I have ever had against me. I’ll beg for forgiveness later. For now, don’t move.” He instructed.
Speechless, Tate nodded as Logan lowered down onto his knees and looked at the perfect ass in front of him. He reached out and cupped Tate’s cheeks, pushing them up and together, kneading the firm, wet flesh under his palms as the water hit his side and swirled down around his knees.
Tate pushed back into him, and when Logan ran his thumbs down his shadowed cleft, he looked back over his shoulder and Logan gave him his most devious smile.
“You’re not surprised, are you?”
As Logan kneeled up, sipping the water from one of Tate’s rounded cheeks, he dropped a hand down to squeeze his solid erection, and Logan bared his teeth, biting the same spot before he murmured, “I’ll take that as a no. In fact, I think you’re dying for this.”
With strong thumbs, Logan spread Tate’s flesh apart.
“Aren’t you, Tate? You want it, and you know I’ll give it to you. Let me guess. You want my mouth here”—Logan nibbled along the dark crevice of fresh wet skin—“and you want my tongue here,” he told him, and swiped his tongue across the top of his crack. “Or maybe…maybe, you want it all, just a little bit lower.”
As he teased the tip of his tongue farther between Tate’s cheeks, Tate automatically widened his legs, a gruff sound pulling from his throat. Logan chuckled against him before he sat back on his heels, releasing Tate, as he looked at the picture spread out before him, almost forgetting they were in the shower.
“God, from the minute we met, you’ve been nothing but pure fucking temptation for me.”
Tate glared back at him over his shoulder, and his eyes were as dark as Logan had ever seen them. Oh yeah. Tate was on edge, and he was frustrated that Logan had stopped.
As he knelt back up behind Tate, Logan appealed to him once more. “Do you forgive me?”
The question now became something of a quest.
This time, instead of an immediate denial, Tate’s eyebrow rose, and his lips twitched. “No.”