Nick didn’t bother being delicate. He sucked Logan greedily, hollowing his cheeks, his hair falling over his eyes. Logan had to grip the sheets to keep from bucking up, though the urge to pin Nick’s head and fuck his mouth was strong.
Logan gritted his teeth, breathing out through his nose. “Christ, you look good like that.”
Nick just hummed, sending vibrations down the shaft. Logan nearly lost it right there but forced himself to stay in control, watching Nick take more and more, his mouth wet and perfect, his lips stretched tight around Logan’s cock.
When Nick came up for air, he swiped his wrist over his lips. “That what you wanted?”
Logan couldn’t decide whether to answer or just haul him in for a kiss. He chose both. He pulled Nick up by the back of the neck then kissed him, shoving his tongue in deep, tasting himself on Nick’s mouth.
Without warning, Nick wrestled Logan’s sweatpants down further, digging his nails into Logan’s thighs. Logan groaned, his hips rolling up into Nick’s hand.
“Turn over,” Nick muttered, his voice shaking now.
Logan did as he was told, kneeling up so Nick could yank his own underwear off. Every move was fast, hungry, like they’d gotten addicted to each other and withdrawals were hitting.
Nick slid down the bed, lying between Logan’s legs. He wrapped a fist around Logan’s cock, pumping slow and steady for a few strokes, and then he ducked his head, taking as much as he could in one go. Logan gasped, his hand slamming into the headboard.
“Fuck, Nick.” His words came out shredded. “You keep that up, I’ll be useless all day.”
Nick didn’t slow. He went even deeper, his tongue pressed along the underside, his lips tight. He twisted his wrist as he stroked what he couldn’t take into his mouth, making the whole thing hotter and hotter.
Logan wasn’t going to tap out. He wanted to see Nick lose control, too. He reached down, sliding a hand behind Nick’s balls, cupping them as Nick sucked him off. Nick’s hips jerked as he rutted into the mattress. Logan got a grip on Nick’s cock, stroking in time with every movement of Nick’s mouth.
The noises in the room were filthy. Wet, obscene. Logan gritted his teeth. Sweat rolled down his back, and his palms were slick. He didn’t care.
He wanted it even filthier.
“Turn around,” Logan ordered, but Nick refused to let go at first, determined to finish him off. Logan let him have it, but when the urge to come nearly overwhelmed him, he grabbed Nick’s hair and tugged until Nick let him slip free with a wet pop.
Logan rolled them, flipped Nick onto his back, then slid down and licked at the tip of Nick’s cock, savoring the taste. Nick whimpered.
Logan wanted to make him wild. He twisted his tongue around the tip, sucked it, then swallowed Nick’s cock as deep as he could, using one hand to stroke whatever didn’t fit.
Nick made the prettiest sounds, writhing under Logan. His hands yanked at the blanket, his hips rolling, desperate for more.
Logan worked him steadily, mouth and hand, until Nick went rigid then spilled down Logan’s throat. Logan swallowed, pulling off just long enough to wipe his mouth before crawling back up the bed.
Nick grabbed him by the hair and kissed him, hard. Logan’s cock was leaking pre-cum, so he jerked himself with quick, rough strokes. Nick watched, his eyes glazed, then reached down and closed a hand over Logan’s, squeezing tight.
“Showoff,” Nick whispered.
Logan laughed then came, striping Nick’s hip. He jerked a few more times then collapsed over him, both of them sticky and spent.
They lay there in silence, just breathing, letting it settle in.
Nick poked at the mess on his side. “This your way of marking territory?”
“Could be.” Logan was too lazy to move. “Or maybe I just like seeing you a wreck.”
Nick rolled his eyes, wiped off with the sheet. “Is this why shifters keep so many sheets in the house? Expecting to get jizz everywhere?”
Logan huffed a laugh. “Ask Sloane. He’s the one who does the shopping.”
Nick grinned. “Maybe next time we try for ‘not in the bedding.’ Like, maybe the shower?”
“Or the kitchen table.” Logan pressed a kiss to Nick’s jaw. “Or the truck.”
Logan watched the way Nick’s lips twisted, half-smirk, half-real smile. He brushed hair off Nick’s face then rested his hand on his mate’s chest, just above his heart. His skin was warm, golden, alive.
