Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“You’re sick,” Andrew moaned out, his hand slippery with pre-come as he jacked his cock faster.
“If I’m sick, so are you. It turns you on, you hypocrite.” Logan bit his earlobe, making Andrew cry out. “You want me to force you. If I force you, it’s not your fault, right? Is that how you think?”
“Shut up,” Andrew muttered, his head spinning. He couldn’t think, his whole world narrowed to his aching cock and balls—and to the cock rutting between his cheeks. The obscene sound of flesh grinding against flesh, Logan’s hot breath against his ear, his large, hard body against him—it all did strange things to him, making him unable to form coherent thoughts. It was probably the touch deprivation. After months of not being touched, having so much naked skin against his was maddening. Fuck, he shouldn’t have been allowing this to happen—it was wrong and disgusting and depraved—but he couldn’t fucking think. He was being forced, right? It wasn’t his fault.
Moaning, he turned onto his belly, his erection trapped between his bedding and his stomach. Logan followed him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as his heavy body pressed him down, his hips thrusting, his cock sliding between Andrew’s cheeks, harder and harder—
Andrew’s orgasm was ripped out of him, a low groan leaving his mouth as he spilled onto his bedding.
He went boneless, his head blissfully empty for a while—until he felt the hot sticky liquid between his cheeks before Logan’s heavy body went still on top of him.
“Ugh,” Andrew said. “Get off me, that’s disgusting!”
Logan rolled off him and lay on his back, still breathing hard.
Andrew panted into his thin pillow, dread, panic, and mortification filling his chest as the fog of pleasure faded. Fuck. What had they done?
“It isn’t happening again,” he said shakily.
“Whatever,” Logan said, his tone clipped. He sounded pissed. But then again, he always sounded pissed.
Andrew shifted and grimaced at the sticky mess under him and on him. He didn’t want to lie on the wet spot.
“Give me your bed,” he said, sitting up and wiping his ass against his bedding. It was ruined anyway.
“Fuck off.”
“It’s your fault mine is ruined!”
Logan groaned. “You’re so damn annoying. Fuck off. I’m not sleeping on your jizz.”
Andrew glowered at him in the dark. “I’m not sleeping on it, either!”
Yawning, Logan chuckled. “You’re welcome to try to move me.”
“Ugh!” Andrew kicked him on the shin. “If you’re as inconsiderate of your fucktoys, no wonder you can’t keep any relationships.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” The asshole sounded sleepy and a little curious.
Andrew scoffed. “Please. You’re almost thirty-four, rich, and not entirely ugly—”
“Thanks,” Logan said dryly.
“You wouldn’t still be picking up pretty boys on tropical islands at your age if someone could actually stand you enough to stick around.”
“Your powers of deduction never cease to amaze me.”
“Give me your bed.”
“No.”
Andrew glared at him, hating that the big oaf couldn’t even see it.
He touched the wet spot on his “bed” and pulled a face. There was no way he was lying on that. Andrew considered just flipping it over, but he knew the bottom was filthy and there were probably all kinds of bugs. Gross.
Logan, the asshole, started snoring softly.
Andrew smiled.
And then he plopped down on top of him.
The pained sound Logan made was goddamn music to his ears.
“The hell are you doing?” Logan growled.
Andrew settled more comfortably on top of him. “You should have just given me your bed,” he said in his nicest tone. “I have nowhere to sleep, so I’m sleeping on you.”
“Get off me.” Logan tried to shove him off, but Andrew clung on stubbornly, his fingers digging into Logan’s sides. Logan might have been bigger and stronger, but Andrew had more leverage in this position. And fuck, it was a matter of pride now. If he wasn’t going to get sleep, neither would the asshole.
They wrestled, grunting, Logan swearing filthily under him. “Get off me, you monkey—”
Andrew broke into giggles as he held on, which quickly turned into hysterical laughter. It wasn’t all that funny, to be honest, but his emotions were all over the place, and he had no idea what to do with them. He was freaking out of his mind; he had no idea what he was doing or what was happening to his life, he hated this man, couldn’t stand him, but he also needed him with a ferocity that terrified him. He didn’t know what was going on anymore—who he was, what he was, why this was happening—
“Have you lost your mind?” Logan growled. “Stop that—stop laughing!”
He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He laughed, and laughed, until the noises leaving his throat became ugly and broken, his body shuddering and his eyes burning with tears.
Logan went rigid under him. “For fuck’s sake,” he said tersely. “If you start crying on me, I’ll kick you outside.”