Page 16 of Snowed in: With the Alien Tentacle Monster

But God, he was soempty.

His body throbbed with need, demanding attention. Logan knew he could take care of it himself,shouldtake care of it himself. But he also knew it wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be enough except...

"No," he said aloud, voice rough. "Not happening."

Through their bond, he could feel Valen's presence in the other room. A constant, thrumming awareness that only made everything worse. The alien was probably monitoring his distress, feeling every wave of desperate need that rolled through him.

Logan pressed his face harder into the pillow, trying to block out everything. But he couldn't escape the memory of Valen's thoughts from earlier, the vivid images the alien had shared of what he could do. How he could wrap those tentacles around Logan's body, pin him down, fill him up until he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel...

His hips rocked involuntarily against the mattress.

"Fuck," he gasped, shame and arousal warring in his gut.

The really messed up part? He wasn't just remembering what had happened. His mind kept conjuring new scenarios, each more explicit than the last. Valen holding him down, taking him slowly this time, making him beg...

Logan rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling with wild eyes. His heart hammered in his chest, his whole body trembling with need.

He hadn't felt this kind of desperate want since... since Jeff. The thought sent another shock of guilt through him, but it couldn't compete with the burning in his veins.

You could have this,a treacherous voice in his mind whispered.He's right there. All you have to do is ask.

"No," Logan said again, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

He was just going to jerk off, just to take the edge off. He slid a shaking hand down his body, and even that simple touch felt electric, his skin hypersensitive from the nectar. He fumbled with his zipper, breathing ragged. He couldn't move fast enough.

But as soon as he wrapped his hand around himself, his fears were confirmed: this wasn't going to be enough. The nectar had left him wanting something else entirely, to be filled, claimed,taken.

"Goddammit," he groaned, stroking himself roughly.

Again, his mind flooded with memories of last night, tentacles wrapping around his thighs, spreading him open, pushing inside... He tried to think of something else,anythingelse, but it was impossible. Every fantasy circled back to Valen, to those exploring tentacles, to that overwhelming fullness...

His back arched off the bed as he worked himself faster, chasing release. But something was missing. He needed more, needed...

No. Fuck. Don't think about it. Don't think about?—

Release hit him hard and fast, his body jerking as pleasure crashed through him. For a brief moment, everything went white-hot and blank.

Then the temporary high wore off.

Logan lay there, chest heaving, feeling somehow even worse than before. The edge was off, but the deep, gnawing need remained. If anything, it felt more intense now. A bone-deep ache for something his own hand couldn't give him.

"Shit," he muttered, grabbing tissues from the bedside table.

He cleaned himself up, but it felt pointless. His skin still burned, his body still craved touch. His self-administered climax had done nothing to quiet the demands of the nectar in his system.

How many hours until this wore off?

Through their bond, he caught a flicker of concern from Valen. Great.

Go away.

Logan grabbed a pillow and pressed it over his face, fighting back a mix of embarrassment and lingering desire.

He was going to die before this was over.

Valen hovered near the window, watching the snow build up outside, trying desperately not to focus on the waves of need and frustration radiating from the bedroom. Every surge of Logan's desire pulled at him, calling to his own instincts to claim, to possess, tohelp.

But he had promised to stay away.

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