“And it was wrong of me.” Logan sighed. “I mean, I know you well enough by now, and I wouldn’t have actually been that pushy if I wasn’t sure you wanted it, but I could still have misjudged the situation. Non-consent play can be dangerous, you little idiot.”
“Don’t call me an idiot. And I didn’t want it!”
“Besides, this is different from handjobs,” the asshole said, as if Andrew hadn’t said anything. “Pick a safeword. Any word.”
“Fine,” Andrew grumbled unhappily. It wasn’t what he’d wanted. Choosing a safeword would mean he was choosing this—and wasn’t actually being forced. He didn’t like it. But fine. “Funeral.”
“Funeral? Your mind is a strange place.”
Andrew didn’t say anything. He looked down.
At Logan’s cock. It was still hard.
Andrew licked his trembling lips. God, was he really going to allow another man to fuck his mouth? Had he lost his mind? What was he doing? He should leave. He should stop this. All he had to do was say the word.
But he remained silent, staring at the cock in morbid fascination. He’d touched it in the shelter, but he didn’t really have the opportunity to look at it. It was so thick. And long. And hard. He’d made Logan hard. It was weirdly thrilling. Despite Logan’s grumpy attitude, he wanted him. A body didn’t lie.
His hand in Andrew’s hair tightening, Logan yanked him down. “Suck.”
The massive cock pushed into his mouth without any preamble. Andrew choked, his eyes widening.
Logan didn’t give him time to adjust.
He just used him.
He fucked Andrew’s mouth with no consideration for his comfort, hard and fast, as if Andrew’s mouth was just a hole for his cock. It was incredibly degrading, but somehow it was exactly what he needed. It felt good. He didn’t have to think. He was nothing but a wet hole for Logan’s cock.
Warmth spread through Andrew’s body, his blood rushing to his cock. He whimpered around the thick cock in his mouth, choking on it and unable to get enough of this feeling. Logan was grunting above him, thrusting into his mouth as if possessed. “Yes, fuck, take it.” His grip on Andrew’s hair tightening, he held him down, his hips thrusting, and thrusting, and thrusting.
Andrew gagged a little as the cock repeatedly bumped against the back of his throat. It must have felt very good for Logan: he groaned and kept doing it, fucking his throat, no finesse or restraint, just pure animal need. Andrew couldn’t think—it was probably lack of oxygen, but his mind felt hazy and slow. He liked it. It felt good. Like the strangest sort of high. He was wanted. He was wanted so much it made Logan lose control.
He let out a disappointed sigh as Logan’s jizz hit the back of his throat.
Blinking dazedly, Andrew spat out what he couldn’t swallow and dropped his head onto Logan’s stomach. Oh, he felt wonderful. His cock was soft and sensitive in a way that indicated that he must have come, too. He didn’t remember it, but he didn’t care. He felt good. So good. Content.
Logan’s voice snapped him out of it. “We should probably talk about this.”
Andrew scrunched up his nose. “No, we really don’t. There’s nothing to talk about.” Huh. His voice sounded wrecked.
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. Now shut up. You’re ruining the mood.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a mood.”
“There was. It was called blessed silence.”
Logan snorted. “Fine. But we really need to talk about it.”
Andrew ignored him, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute.
It was odd, but now the sound of the ocean beating against the shore didn’t make him feel lonely or small. It seemed like a calming lullaby.
Andrew let it lull him into sleep.
Chapter 10
Sometimes Logan wondered what the hell they were doing.
It didn’t happen all that often. He generally dealt with the issue by not thinking about it. Not thinking about it was surprisingly easy when he had a hot guy sucking his dick whenever he wanted. Or rather, a hot guy letting him use his mouth whenever he wanted. The distinction was very clear—and one Andrew didn’t let him forget about.
They really needed to talk about it. People generally didn’t do that kind of thing without explicitly discussing what each party got from that kind of relationship. Not that it was a relationship. It was… a mutually beneficial arrangement, nothing more.
Logan knew it wasn’t really about sex for Andrew. It wasn’t about sex for him, either. Sex was just a way for them to feel less lonely. A physical affirmation of life and an escape route from it at the same time. A way to feel good, a release of tension. The sex was an escape, like drugs and alcohol. Orgasms were secondary almost to the point of unimportance. Sexual gratification didn’t seem to be the main reason why Andrew liked sucking his cock—and he clearly liked it, no matter how much he liked to pretend that he was being forced.
At first Logan had been a little uneasy about the whole thing, but it was undeniable that the other man enjoyed having his mouth fucked. “Enjoyed” might actually be an understatement. Logan had never met a guy who got off on having his mouth used as much as Andrew did: he could come from it completely untouched. Andrew also liked making him hard. He would sometimes reach out and touch Logan’s cock for no reason and watch him get hard with a fascinated look in his eyes. Logan wasn’t sure why Andrew liked it so much—Andrew’s mind was a weird place and worked in mysterious ways. Logan didn’t try to understand him. He didn’t want to understand him. There was only one step from understanding someone to getting attached to them, and Logan wasn’t doing it. Not with a guy who was a bigoted, repressed mess.
But fuck, Andrew looked so soft after he let Logan use his mouth: all flushed, glassy-eyed, and mellow. It did things to him. Things Logan had to nip in the bud. So he tried not to look at Andrew in those moments—if he did, he wanted to shove the guy under him and kiss him until he forgot his own name.
They didn’t do kisses. Ever.
Anyway, everything was fine—as long as Logan didn’t let himself think about things for more than a few seconds.
The situation was… manageable enough until one day, weeks after they’d started fooling around, everything went downhill.
Logan was looking at the horizon, watching the spectacular sunset, his cock half-hard in the other guy’s mouth. He’d already come less than an hour ago, so the urgency wasn’t there. He just liked keeping his cock in Andrew’s mouth, to use him as a cock-warmer until he started hardening again. It was a kink he hadn’t even known he had—until Andrew. It also had the benefit of Andrew being quiet and mellow.
Absentmindedly, Logan scratched behind Andrew’s ear.
A low sound, something like a purr, made him freeze.
He looked down at the guy seated on the sand between his legs. Andrew’s eyes were closed, his pretty lips stretched wide by Logan’s cock, an expression of utter contentment and peace on his face.
After a moment, Logan’s hand moved again. Andrew purred like a pleased cat, leaning into his touch, his lips tightening around Logan’s cock—which was now rock hard again.