Page 42 of Steam

“Jesus Logan,” Henry sighs appreciatively.

“You’re beautiful,” Logan says, not knowing why he’s saying the words but letting them spill out anyway.

Logan can feel his own pulse, buried to the hilt, and Henry pauses with purpose, letting his weight fall onto Logan as his body becomes more accommodating. Logan strokes gently up Henry’s torso, his hips, his cock, wanting to appreciate every inch.

After what feels like an eternity, Henry begins to stir, his hips stroking forward and back by a few degrees.

Logan groans at the pleasant friction.

* * *

Logan’s cockfeels so amazing that Henry almost regrets the teasing he’s put the other man through.

Almost.

As the uncomfortable pressure eases off, Henry begins to rock his hips, gliding a few centimeters more with each stroke. Logan’s blue eyes look like he’s lost in another universe, searching Henry’s face but also somewhere else, far away.

Henry is careful not to fall into a steady rhythm, still not ready for his client to come but knowing that he must be uncomfortably close. He varies each stroke with the precision of a trained dancer, working his hips this way and that.

And despite his purposeful movements, there’s something in Henry that just wants to goddamn ride the other man, stroking himself off until he paints Logan’s chest, the man shuddering and straining into him. Physically, it would be satisfying enough to fuck him hard now, bouncing up and down his length with ferocious speed and letting him crash into orgasm like a car into a brick wall.

But sexual satisfaction would only make Henry happy for so long.

He’d much rather make the man pay for being so rude at first.

* * *

Logan really thoughtthe teasing would stop as soon as he was able to fuck Henry.

Another miscalculation.

He continues to fall apart under the younger man, Henry working his hips like the professional that he is, refusing to establish a pace, alternating languid strokes from base to tip with short bursts of staccato bucking.

It’s as arousing as it is maddening, and the pleasure building throughout the network of his senses is the only thing that keeps the desire to grab Henry and fuck him hard and steady at bay.

His orgasm builds anyway, over time, the sights and sensations too much. Logan’s heart is pounding—his goddamn balls are pounding—as Henry grinds above him, breathing hard.

But the kid apparently has a goddamn sixth sense for orgasms—either that or he’s psychic—because the fucking split second Logan thinks he’s past the point of no return, there Henry is, hands slamming into the bed on either side of Logan’s chest, collapsing forward and out of Logan’s reach, pulling off of Logan’s dick.

Henry grinds into his belly, smiling devilishly.

“I should’ve kicked you out when I had the chance,” Logan growls.

“Ah,” Henry says, kissing sweetly into Logan’s jaw. “But you didn’t.”

Logan’s erection is painful now, honest-to-God hurting him, and he almost feels like he’s going to reach orgasm with no touch at all.

This time he forces himself back from the brink. Like hell he’s going to suffer through some shitty orgasm, coming onto his own stomach after all of that torture.

Not going to happen,he thinks. Get it together Logan.

* * *

Henry collapsesto the bed next to Logan and the other man, it seems, can’t even stand to look at him.

He lies rigid on his back, hands clenching, staring up at the ceiling.

For a moment, Henry wonders if he’s made a misstep—if he’s teased the new client too much. You never know who might have an anger problem, which clients might get rough.

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