Page 6 of Bound in Blood
All three of them froze.
Logan’s chest heaved, breath uneven, body burning.
Mateo pulled back first, his expression wicked. “Your stop.”
Logan swallowed hard, forcing his body into motion. He still had his keys in his hand, gripping them so tightly he was sure the indents would scar. His apartment was only steps away, but every motion took so much effort he might as well have been walking the length of the city.
As he unlocked his door, he turned to look at the two men, gesturing them inside, something playful in his tone despite his racing heart. “Enter freely and of your own free will,” he teased.
The twins hesitated, expressions shifting from hungry to unreadable.
Logan furrowed his brow, wondering what he had said wrong, but trying his best to play it off. “Sorry, I uh… it was an expression in some book they required us to read in high school. I can’t even remember which one, but—” His voice trailed off as Marco and Mateo exchanged a glance.
Marco muttered something in Italian that Logan couldn’t quite catch, and Mateo, ever the quick talker, recovered smoothly, grin sliding back into place. “Dracula, tesoro.”
Logan chuckled, stepping inside and tilting his head toward them in invitation. This time, they followed without hesitation.
The door had barely clicked shut when Mateo struck. Logan hadn’t even been able to lock the door behind him before Mateo had him pressed against it, hands gripping his waist, mouth hot and urgent against Logan’s. It was all heat and hunger and teeth and tongue, like Mateo was trying to consume him, andfuck,Logan might let him.
“Look at you, already trembling for us,” Mateo purred against Logan’s mouth, pulling back to examine his work. Marco made a low sound, not quite a growl, but close. He reached for him, pulling him from Mateo’s grasp, the coat Logan had borrowed slipping unceremoniously to the floor. The composure Marco had was fraying at the seams. Logan could see it in hiseyes, slightly wild as he searched Logan’s too-small studio for somewhere more comfortable than a doorframe.
The couch, Logan’s lust-addled brain supplied to him, would be the best place for anything they had planned for him. Taking charge for the first time all evening, he found Marco’s hand, yanking him toward the small sectional in the middle of the room, Mateo close behind.
The back of his knees hit the couch as he turned to face the two of them, unsure how they would want to proceed. Mateo made a quick motion Logan couldn’t quite interpret before Marco lowered himself onto one side of the couch, leaning up against the armrest. He shifted, parting his legs, beckoning Logan down with just a look.
Logan’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of Marco. Sprawled out, pupils blown, swallowing up almost all the gold. He stared back at Logan, waiting. Expecting.
Logan wasn’t given time to hesitate before Mateo was on him, fingers finding the loops on Logan’s jeans, spinning Logan around to face him before pushing him roughly toward his brother. Logan fell backwards into Marco’s chest, caught effortlessly in strong, steady arms. Marco’s hands splayed against Logan’s waist underneath his hoodie and t-shirt, his skin burning at the contact. Logan’s breath hitched, his heart hammering so wildly he could nearly taste it.
“Dio?*…” Marco muttered, hand sliding further up Logan’s torso, fingers brushing ribs, grip firm but not quite restraining.
Mateo kneeled between Logan’s knees on the other side of the couch, yanking off the shoes Logan had forgotten to slip off at the door. He grinned as his gaze darted between Logan and his brother, between the way Marco held him down and the way Logan couldn’t dream of fighting it. His hand slid up Logan’s thigh, so close to where Loganneededto be touched, but stopping just short.
Logan’s hips bucked involuntarily in protest, a desperate noise escaping his mouth before Marco tilted his chin back and shut him up with a kiss. The hand beneath his hoodie took hold of the fabric, pulling it up, up, up, until Logan was sure his entire chest was exposed, the cold, still air of the apartment causing goosebumps everywhere but where Marco’s hand held him in place.
“I want this off,” Marco demanded against Logan’s lips, his fingers tightening, pulling at the garment like it offended him.
Mateo made a humming sound in the back of his throat, sliding his hands up Logan’s sides, his stomach, his ribs. His touch was feather-light, just enough to make Logan arch into him. Mateo dipped his head low, laying kisses around Logan’s newly-exposed abdomen.
“Arms up,bello.”He breathed against Logan’s stomach, lips brushing over bare skin, sending a shudder up Logan’s spine that ended with a truly embarrassing sound escaping from his lips.
Logan obeyed the command without thinking, his mind so far lost that he felt himself being reduced to a puppet these two near-strangers could will at their command. They’d barely even touched him yet, for Christ’s sake! Logan was no stranger to experience, but never had his body reacted so viscerally to touch before. He wanted to blame it on the overwhelming presence of two men instead of one, but deep down, he wasn’t quite sure that was a viable excuse.
Logan registered Marco tugging his hoodie the rest of the way off, the t-shirt he wore underneath going with it as Marco tossed the clothing somewhere behind them. His hands left Logan’s body for barely a second, fingertips mapping skin as his lips explored Logan’s jawline.
Mateo leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the space just beneath Logan’s ribs, his hands finding the buttonof Logan’s jeans, the sound of the zipper barely interrupting Logan’s panting.
“Look at him, Marco,” Mateo murmured, nipping at the skin just above Logan’s navel. “So responsive for us.”
Marco responded with his own pleased sound, his fingers tilting Logan’s head to the side, forcing him to bare his throat. The shift in Marco’s breathing was so subtle Logan might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyperaware of every touch, every moment, every sensation these twins were bringing upon him.
It wasintoxicating.
Mateo’s hands gripped the loops of Logan’s jeans, sliding them down as far as he could without moving, then letting up just enough to allow Logan to kick them off the rest of the way. Mateo’s hand cupped Logan through the fabric of his boxers as Marco’s fingers tightened on Logan’s jaw, lips hovering just over his pulse point.
“He gives in so easily,” Marco purred, voice dangerously soft against Logan’s neck. “So eager to take what we give him.”
Mateo answered by hooking his thumbs around the waistband of Logan’s boxers, tugging them down, trailing kisses along skin that no other person had touched inmonths,and Logan was boneless, brainless, breath coming out in hot pants.
