Page 43 of Steam

But Logan doesn’t move to grab him. He watches as the man’s breathing becomes measured.

“Hey Logan,” Henry says, finally.

“Hm.”

“This time, I want you to get on top of me.”

The man turns to look at Henry, assessing his face.

“I want you to get on top of me, and I want you to fuck me hard,” Henry says. “Think you can do that?”

“Jesus Christ,” Logan whispers. “I almost came just hearing you say that.”

* * *

It had been lovelyto let the younger man take charge, to let him guide them through everything.

But there’s a time and place for everything, and the moment Henry hands Logan the figurative reins, there’s an animal hunger that spurs Logan’s movements.

Logan gathers himself up, slicking his erection for the second time and kneeling on the bed. Henry smiles up at him, shimmying to the middle of the bed and watching him intently.

Logan has never needed to fuck so badly in his life.

Not during long stretches of abstinence. Not during the painful and embarrassing arousals of high school. Never has Logan felt quite like this—so goddamned aroused and needy that he feels like he’s discovering sex for the first time in his life.

The slow burn of need that Henry has stoked throughout their session is blazing now in the base of his stomach like a forge. And Logan knows, now, it will take every ounce of Henry to put out the fire.

Which is, he figures, exactly what Henry wanted all along.

He’s played right into the call boy’s hands. And looking down at the man’s perfect body, at his infuriating but lovely white smile, Logan is all too happy to be manipulated.

He takes Henry by the hips and flips him easily. The smaller man laughs, loving the handling it seems, and he hikes his hips up to bob slightly on his knees.

“Jesus,” Logan says, running a hand up the man’s spine. He understands the game now, almost not wanting to fuck Henry yet, wanting to feel this abandon and desire forever. He presses his body down across Henry’s back, feeling the man’s small frame underneath him, laying kisses into the bony knuckles of his straight spine.

Henry hums underneath him.

“Please fuck me, Logan,” he whines.

Logan’s breath hitches in hyperarousal. He can’t put it off any longer, and his hands move by themselves, dragging to Henry’s hips, holding him steady as he presses into Henry with his overstimulated length.

* * *

There’sno slow build this time, no teasing. Henry makes no attempt to set the pace, instead grinding back to meet Logan’s desperate thrusts.

The man is moaning and fucking him like it’s their last day on earth: deeply, thoroughly, not letting a millimeter of his cock go unstroked as he bucks into Henry. And as much as he has enjoyed the teasing and the power, with this client Henry finds a deep satisfaction in being fucked evenly and enthusiastically, in feeling comfortable enough to allow the man to do whatever he pleases and knowing that he’d probably pushed Logan to the limits of his sanity.

Henry hadn’t expected Logan to last long after forcing edging on the man—wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d only lasted a few strokes. So he’s surprised as the larger man above him keeps up his rhythm without stopping.

And after a moment, he feels Logan’s hand snake around his hip, wrap around his own length. He hadn’t been expecting that.

It’s not just a clumsy show like it is with some men. Logan wants to get him off—and he’s damned good at it, too.

* * *

Henry moansbeneath him in earnest as Logan strokes in time with his thrusts. It’s raw and sweet, not a practiced noise but the sound of someone getting off. Henry tenses around him as Logan caresses him.

“Fuck that feels amazing,” Henry chokes out. It doesn’t sound like he’s acting.

---