Chapter 8 #10
Logan’s entrance was slick with saliva, glistening under the dim light, and Adrian was drunk on it; on Logan’s taste, his scent, the primal symphony of his moans filling the cabin like the melody of waves against the hull.
Adrian was utterly undone, consumed by Logan’s essence, and he couldn’t stop himself.
His tongue worked faster, more frantically, stiffening to push deeper into Logan, thrusting in and out, each motion coaxing sounds from Logan that bordered on desperation.
With his tongue stiff, Adrian started to fuck Logan, licking his inner walls, drunk and totally lost in sensation, before retreating and pushing his tongue back again.
The cabin was alive with sound: Logan’s cries, the soft squelch of Adrian’s tongue against him, and the distant, rhythmic lull of water lapping outside.
Adrian was relentless, lost in Logan, lost in the intoxicating flavor and feel of him, his mouth and tongue moving as though they were made for this moment, for Logan.
Finally, Adrian drew back, sucking one finger into his mouth as his eyes flicked to Logan’s face.
His lips were wet, swollen, his gaze darkened with lust and a touch of mischief.
He considered getting lube but decided against it, just one finger for now, as he did not want to leave that spot; he did not want to stop even for a moment.
He licked Logan’s entrance again, coating it generously with saliva, ensuring it was as slick as possible, before pressing his finger inside.
Logan gasped, his breath catching in his throat as the intrusion sent a bolt of pleasure through him.
Adrian’s finger was unhurried, gentle, moving with care until it found its destination.
When he brushed against Logan’s prostate, a sound tore from Logan’s throat, half-moan, half-cry, his body trembling like a storm-tossed wave.
Once.
Twice.
Adrian’s touch was sure, precise, the pad of his finger stroking Logan’s most sensitive spot, drawing out moans that seemed to reverberate off every surface.
Logan’s cock jerked, precum pooling at the tip, and then, like a breaking wave, his body tensed, his hole tightening around Adrian’s finger.
With a choked scream, Logan came, his release spilling in thick, hot ropes over his stomach, his cries mingling with the rhythm of the sea.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!” Logan’s voice broke, his body shuddering, caught in the overwhelming intensity of his climax.
Adrian didn’t stop. He kept massaging Logan’s prostate, his tongue teasing at his entrance even as Logan’s body trembled in the aftermath.
Adrian was savoring every moment, every sound, every tremor, as though he was committing it all to memory, engraving it onto his soul.
Logan lay still, his chest heaving as he panted, his eyes closed, his body trembling with aftershocks that rippled through him in sporadic waves.
Adrian moved slowly, reverently, his touch light as he gently withdrew his fingers from the depths of Logan’s body.
He pressed a tender kiss to the spot where Logan’s torso met his thigh, a gesture of affection as much as it was of worship.
Then Adrian traveled upward, his lips and tongue tracing a path along Logan’s skin.
When Adrian reached Logan’s stomach, his lips brushed over the pearly remnants of Logan’s release.
He licked it clean, savoring the taste like it was ambrosia, as though it were his reward for the orgasm he had coaxed from Logan’s very soul.
Adrian felt insatiable, drunk on Logan’s essence, his addiction clawing for more, always more.
Finally, Adrian settled beside him, his body close but not overwhelming.
Logan stirred, his lashes fluttering open, and Adrian was greeted by the sight of him—messy, wrecked, and utterly breathtaking.
Logan looked undone in the most exquisite way, his cheeks tinged pink, his lips slightly parted, his stormy gray eyes hazy with exhaustion and contentment.
“For the second time in a row,” Logan murmured, his voice a little hoarse, a little awed, “you’ve managed to make me come without even touching my dick.” A blush deepened on his cheeks as he added, “You deserve an award.”
Adrian laughed, a sound rich with joy and affection, and he pulled Logan into his arms, threading his fingers through the strands of Logan’s sandy-blond hair.
The sensation of Logan in his arms, warm and pliant, filled him with a quiet wonder.
Every inch of him marveled at the fact that he got to be here, that he got to love this extraordinary man.
“I don’t need an award,” Adrian teased, brushing his nose playfully against Logan’s.
“But if you insist, I’d gladly accept the honor of being your personal chef.
You’ve just become my favorite breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
” His lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued, “Between eating you like that and blowing you, I could feast on you all day long and never get tired.”
Logan huffed a breathless laugh, his blush deepening even as a playful smirk tugged at his lips. Adrian’s words were bold, shameless, but the way he said them, with a lightness that wrapped around the depth of his devotion, made Logan feel cherished, adored, and utterly his.
Logan reached for Adrian’s face, cradling it in his hands lovingly, and pulled him into a kiss. It was deep, slow, and filled with the taste of Logan branded over Adrian’s insatiable tongue, a hunger that simmered just below the surface, a promise of what was to come.
“So,” Logan murmured when their lips parted, his eyes darkening with lust as they roamed over Adrian’s body, flawless and maddeningly enticing, every curve of muscle taut, his cock thick and full, resting against his sculpted stomach.
“The rest of those activities you mentioned earlier… are they still on the table?” His own cock twitched at the thought, already stirring to life, his body vibrating with anticipation.
He knew that in less than fifteen minutes, he’d be more than ready, but with Adrian looking like that—all naked and glorious—he figured it’d be much sooner.
Just the thought of being inside Adrian, of sliding into his tight heat and losing himself entirely, was enough to make his breath hitch and his skin hum.
He could already picture it: Adrian arching beneath him, moaning his name, drawing him deeper until there was no part of Logan that wasn’t consumed by him.
The idea alone sent a sharp jolt of arousal through him.
It still surprised Logan how voracious he was with Adrian.
He had never thought of himself as an overly sexual person, at least, that was what he told himself.
In past relationships, his girlfriends had often taken the lead while he coasted along, playing the part expected of him without questioning why he always felt like a spectator in his own desire.
He had assumed it was just how he was built, more cerebral than carnal, more in his head than in his body.
Most of the time, he had been content to take matters into his own hands, quite literally, relieving himself and jerking off when the mood struck without much thought.
It was simpler that way. No expectations, no confusion, no having to explain why he wasn’t reaching for the person beside him in bed.
With his last girlfriend, it had unraveled even further, an unspoken distance growing between them, widening like a crack in glass.
He had avoided sex for almost the last year of their relationship.
He had blamed it on the pressure of his MBA, on the long hours hunched over research papers, on exhaustion and stress.
He had convinced himself that the problem was time, that if he could just clear his head, if he could just get through this phase, things would settle.
But they never did. And the truth was, he had started enjoying the time they spent apart more than the time they were together.
He had felt more like himself when he wasn’t trying to force something that wasn’t there, when he wasn’t pretending.
But Adrian… Adrian had rewritten every rule, turned every expectation on its head.
With Adrian, Logan was always hungry, always aching, always reaching for him.
They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Every touch, every kiss, every stolen glance was charged, electric, leaving them both vibrating with want.
It was as though their bodies had synced to the same rhythm, an unspoken agreement to never let a day pass without wringing every ounce of pleasure from each other.
Twice a day was a minimum, but more often than not, they reached three or four, driven by an intoxicating mix of youth, passion, and the closeness of spending every waking moment together.
Hands, mouths, bodies—nothing was off-limits, and everything seemed to ignite the flame between them.
Adrian grinned wickedly, his dark eyes flashing with heat.
“It’s so on the table,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Logan’s spine.
Before Logan could respond, Adrian sprang from the bed with a kind of effortless grace and disappeared for barely a moment.
When he returned, he held the lube and a box of condoms, his grin still in place.
Logan smirked at the speed, knowing that even a marathon runner would have applauded Adrian’s record time.