But why shouldn’t he? Maybe he should just fuck Andrew. Maybe that was exactly what he needed to get him out of his system.
No matter how hard Logan tried to shake the idea off, it refused to go away. What did they have to lose, really? Just once. They could do it just once.
Before he could stop himself, he moved his hands lower, slipping them under the waistband of Andrew’s boxers. Andrew didn’t even tense, which probably spoke volumes of how accustomed to touching each other they were, but fuck, the mere fact that this supposedly straight guy needed him so badly that even feeling Logan’s hands on his ass didn’t bother him at all… it was like a heady drug. The worst kind of drug.
Logan had never considered himself a possessive man. He’d always thought possessiveness didn’t belong in the modern world. But this submissiveness, the way Andrew allowed Logan to touch him anywhere he wanted, brought out primitive instincts that were more appropriate for a caveman. Mine, they whispered, like poison in his mind. Mine mine mine.
Andrew’s cheeks were silky smooth and just the right size, plump but firm. Logan kneaded them greedily for a while, enjoying the way they felt in his hands, the way Andrew allowed him this without any protest.
Finally, Logan reached out to the nightstand and retrieved the lube from the drawer.
Andrew tensed only when Logan pressed a slick finger between his cheeks.
“What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Logan said, massaging his hole with his fingers.
Andrew was twitching, tense—but still not pulling away. “You aren’t—you aren’t fucking me,” he said, but he didn’t sound all that sure. “Stop.”
Logan ignored him, knowing how it went. If Andrew truly wanted him to stop, he would use his safeword.
He pushed a finger into the tight hole, and Andrew inhaled sharply. “N-no,” he stuttered. “Don’t.”
“All you have to do is say your safeword: funeral,” Logan said. “And I’ll stop. But your ‘no’ and ‘stop’ don’t mean shit. We both know it.”
“No,” Andrew said. “Stop—don’t—ah—”
“You like this,” Logan stated, slipping another finger into him. He found Andrew’s prostate and stroked it, drawing muffled moans from the guy on his chest. “Say it.”
“I’m not—ah—”
“Not gay?” Logan said, working his fingers in and out of him. Christ, he was so fucking tight. “Then say the word, and I’ll stop. I’ll pull my fingers out and we can pretend you hated this. Or…”
Andrew was silent, but his silence was tense, questioning.
“Or I can put you on your back and fuck you with my cock,” Logan said hoarsely, stabbing his fingers against Andrew’s prostate. Andrew shuddered. Logan smiled and massaged the bump in circular motions. Andrew let out a long moan, moving his hips involuntarily.
Logan put his free hand on Andrew’s lower back, pressing their bare stomachs together. “Just imagine, Drew,” he said, his voice so deep and husky it didn’t even sound like his own. “You said I’m the only thing that makes you feel whole. Imagine having me inside of you physically too. It’ll feel so good. My cock moving inside you. My come filling your stomach. Me—in you. So deep there’s nothing between us.”
Andrew made a small noise and shook his head, but his hips kept moving, pushing back onto Logan’s fingers as if of their own volition. His parted lips were mouthing Logan’s chest before latching onto his nipple.
Groaning, Logan pushed a third finger in, stretching the tight, warm passage that enveloped his slick fingers like a glove. Fuck, his cock ached, eager to replace his fingers.
Unable to wait anymore, Logan rolled them, pushing Andrew under him.
Andrew made a desperate sound when Logan’s fingers slipped out of him, but Logan was already pressing his cockhead against the slicked hole. At the back of his mind, the last remnants of his rationality tried to remind him of things like condoms, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted. He felt like he’d explode if he didn’t get his cock into this man right now.
So he pushed inside in one hard thrust, and they both groaned. Andrew was so tight it was almost painful, but Christ, it felt so good, as if he’d finally reached his life goal, the relief so immense Logan nearly came on the spot.
“You asshole,” Andrew breathed out, his body tense under him. “You couldn’t do it slower?”
No, he couldn’t. He’d been wanting this for months.
Logan forced his eyes open and stared at the dark spot that was Andrew. He suddenly wished he could see what he looked like right now, spread out under him, full of his cock.
But maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t see it. It was bad enough that he was letting his cock do the thinking—again. Knowing what Andrew looked like on his cock was an image he’d rather live without.
Logan closed his eyes again and started thrusting. He just needed to get it over with. The sooner he came, the sooner he’d get this guy out from under his skin.