20. Jared

TWENTY

Sex with Loganhas always been amazing. But maybe it's the adrenaline from the past week, or the danger of our current situation, whatever it is, watching Logan fuck himself on my cock is mesmerizing.

It's like I'm nothing more than a heated dildo that happens to be attached to a body, and I'm here for it. He's so focused on his own pleasure, on what feels good to him. I want to push him right up to that line, then shove him over it.

Just when I don't think it can get any better, Logan goes and proves me wrong.

He lets out a breathy whine as he shifts his weight. He swings one leg forward, then does a slightly awkward crab walk, spinning himself around while still impaled on my cock.

"Jesus. Fuck."

The sensation is incredible. Tight and hot, but also twisting. This isn't something you can replicate with hands. It's an ass-only experience.

I try to help him keep his balance, but there really isn't much I can do except lie still and let him drive me fucking mad. He makes it the full one hundred and eighty degrees, stopping when his knees are on either side of my hips again, this time facing me.

And wearing a shit-eating grin. "Did you like that?" he asks, hips still rolling non-stop, working himself on my cock.

"You know I did, brat."

"Uh uh, that's no way to speak to the guy who's going to make you come your brains out."

"Oh really? I don't see anyone here who can do that."

He grins wider then bends down for a kiss. Despite our banter, the kiss is tender, soft, intimate. His tongue caresses mine, slow and sensual, like he's savoring the flavor of my mouth. He whimpers when I push my tongue past his lips. He sucks on it and my hips jerk up in response.

I let my hands roam over every inch of him. His back, his sides, his stomach, his cock. It's throbbing when I close my hand around it and Logan lets out a high-pitched cry straight into my mouth. I stroke him, drawing more cries that I swallow right down.

Logan's hips haven't stopped moving, rotating, and shifting, giving my cock a massage of a lifetime. He braces himself above me, hands on either side of my head, thighs rippling and bulging. Every muscle in his body is flexed and on display as he lifts and lowers himself in my lap.

His mouth hangs open and his eyes are heavy-lidded with lust. Sweat drips off him and onto me, bathing me in his essence. I mix his sweat with mine, rub it into my skin, and soak him up.

I reach for his nipples, catching each one between my fingers. I pinch and pull and twist. His cries grow louder, his hips move faster, and his ass clamps down harder on me.

"That's it. Fuck yourself, Logan. Fuck yourself on my cock."

Logan sobs as he levers himself upright and grabs my wrists for support. I palm his pecs as he holds me to him, leaning into my touch. His nipples are hard against the heels of my hands and as I grope him, working the muscles, more obscene sounds escape from Logan's mouth.

"Oh god, Jared," he sobs.

He's unlike anyone else I've ever known. Sexy and funny and sweet. And underneath all that softness and light is a core of steel—solid and strong and unshakable.

I've put him through hell over the past weeks. It's more than any normal person would be able to handle. But instead of crumbling under the pressure, Logan has taken it all in stride. Every time another obstacle's been thrown in his face, he's stepped up. Sprinting through that warehouse with bullets flying at him. Jumping into the driver's seat and speeding us away from danger. He's been scared, yes, but he hasn't let any of it faze him. And that is sexy as fuck.

My little ray of sunshine is one tough cookie.

"Logan." His name is ripped from the very depths of my being.

His eyes fly open and meet mine. They were dazed with lust a moment ago, but now they're sharp and clear, boring into me.

"Jared." His voice is just as raw and unfiltered as mine.

"I love you." I need him to know. I need him to never doubt that truth. No matter what happens over the next few days, I need Logan to understand exactly how I feel about him.

He sobs. "I love you, too."

He slams himself down on me, over and over. His cock slaps violently against my stomach, leaving splatters of pre-cum all over my skin. Every muscle is flexed and taut as he chases his orgasm, using me for his own pleasure.

I lift my hands from his chest and intertwine our fingers. There's a profound intimacy in the simple pressing of palm to palm. It's open, honest, genuine. There are no secrets, nothing kept hidden. Just two souls finding their home in each other.

I push against him and he pushes back.

We're perfectly balanced, perfectly complementary, each offsetting the other's strengths and weaknesses.

"That's it, babe. Fuck yourself. Make yourself come. Spray your jizz all over me. Cover me with it."

"Fuck! Jared!" Cum shoots out of his cock before he finishes saying my name. It gets all over the place, my stomach, my chest, my chin, my forehead. Logan keeps fucking himself, ramming himself on my cock at that perfect angle as he milks his balls for every drop.

It's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life, but what pushes me over the edge is the look on his face. Ecstasy, euphoria, bliss—there are no words to accurately describe it, but it's pure and unadulterated pleasure, pleasure he's taken from me for himself.

My hips come off the bed just as Logan drops down and I roar through my own orgasm. His ass contracts around me and he moans like my cum is a drug and he's been in withdrawal.

My orgasm crests again and again, waves crashing over me as I empty myself into his body. I fill him up until there's no room left and my cum leaks out of his ass in a sticky, wet mess.

Logan's completely liquid when he collapses off to the side, barely conscious and yet still aware enough not to aggravate my injuries.

"Jared," he whimpers, curling himself into my side and tucking his face into the crook of my neck.

I wrap my arms around him, reveling in the simple pleasure of holding him close, feeling his body against mine, his breath gentle on my neck. The air grows cool around us. His cum dries, itchy and crusty on my skin. I'm sure his ass is an absolute mess.

The walkie-talkie crackles from somewhere across the room. "All units, report."

Logan moans and snuggles in closer. I should get up and get the walkie. But I don't want to move. I don't want to leave the warm comfort of cuddling with Logan.

One by one, all the units check-in, and I'm still lying in bed with Logan in my arms.

"Alpha One, come in." It's Isaac. Fuck. I really need to get up.

"Alpha One, come in," Isaac repeats.

"Need us to go check on them, boss?" Victoria's voice has a distinctly teasing tone. "Although, they might be indisposed."

Fuck. I reluctantly extract myself from Logan's delectable body and rush to find the walkie. It's lying on the floor behind the couch.

"Here. We're here. Alpha One. Everything's fine. It's all good."

There's a noticeable silence across the radio waves and I can only imagine how hard everyone's laughing at Victoria's comment. There's going to be endless ribbing if I make it out of this alive.

Then the walkie crackles again and Isaac clears his voice. "Good to know, Alpha One. And, uh, perhaps you should avoid being indisposed. You know, since we're expecting a visit from a violent criminal."

"We weren't—that's not—" I catch myself, because well, Isaac's right. Getting naked and dicking off probably wasn't the most responsible thing to do. But how was I supposed to resist Logan and his kisses? "Understood," I growl.

"We're switching to night shift, so I'll check back in the morning," Isaac says.

"Copy that." I drop the walkie on the couch and brace my hands against the back.

"Oops."

I glance toward the bed, where Logan's lying on his side, one leg propped up, naked body on display.

He doesn't look even a little bit contrite, and for a second, I completely forget what Isaac said about staying alert. I want to tumble into bed with him, wrap him up in my arms, and sink into his warm, pliant body again.

The walkie crackles and Victoria's voice comes through. "Good night!" Her singsong tone leaves no doubt what she thinks we'll be doing tonight.

Shit.

Instead of jumping right back into bed, I force myself to divert to the bathroom. I turn on the water and wait for it to run hot while I grab a washcloth. After I wipe myself down, I rinse out the washcloth and bring it to the bed for Logan.

He's on his stomach, ass sticking in the air, waiting for me. His hole is loose and red, covered in cum. It's wrecked and utterly beautiful. I toss the washcloth aside. Who needs a washcloth when I've got a perfectly functional tongue?

I fill my hands with his rounded ass cheeks and hold them apart as I lean in and lick. From the back of his balls, over his taint, and finally his hole. My senses fill with Logan's signature sweet and tangy, mixed with the heady musk of sex and cum.

He moans, arching his back and sticking his ass out for more. I cover every inch, catching every stray drop, even digging into his hole to make sure nothing's left behind.

"Fuck, Jared, you're going to make me come again."

I give him a quick smack on the ass and Logan flips around, grabbing the back of my neck and hauling me to him. His mouth crashes against mine and he shoves his tongue between my lips. I feed whatever's left over to him, letting him taste himself, taste me.

It's dirty, lewd, and I'll never get enough.

The thing about this job is, we go into every mission not knowing whether we'll make it out again. We can't make promises or give reassurances. We do the best we can to stay safe, to stay alive. But shit happens, plans go sideways, and contingencies fail all the fucking time.

Even knowing that, I want to promise Logan everything. I want to promise him the world. But the best I can do is pour every ounce of love I feel into our kiss and hope he'll be able to understand.