by Ella Frank
“You’re so fucking big,” he heard himself say out loud.
Logan gave a strained laugh. “Words no man minds hearing ever.”
Tate didn’t have any smart-ass comebacks this time as he finally seated himself fully, and Logan’s flesh pulsated inside him. Tate remained as still as possible, trying to let his body become used to the invasion.
As Tate stared down at Logan, he gave him one of his slow sensual smiles, and Tate felt his cock become roused. He couldn’t help the swift thrust he gave, trying to push himself into… something, and just that quickly, Logan curled a fist around him.
The minute Tate had moved, the shaft inside him shifted, and the pleasure he got from it surprised him. It surprised him so much that he did it again, this time causing a curse to rip from Logan.
With his hands on Logan’s chest, Tate slowly raised himself up on his knees, allowing Logan’s erection to slide a little ways from his body. Then, he re-seated himself, and this time, that wide, rigid shaft hit the right spot, and Tate’s eyes rolled to the back of his fucking head. Breathing hard, he did it again, a little faster. He raised himself up and then came back down, his body sucking Logan inside.
“Oh fuck, Tate, fuck!” Logan shouted as he arched his head back against the pillow. His neck strained against his pleasure, exposing all its veins. “So good.”
Loving the sound of that, Tate began to rock his hips over the cock inside him. The burn had now been replaced with a satisfying ache, and Logan was right about how good it felt. As Logan half sat up, causing all of his stomach muscles to ripple, Tate’s erection lurched at the sight, and he bent down to take Logan’s mouth.
Forcing his tongue between his lips, Tate began to writhe on top of him as Logan lay back down, bringing Tate with him.
“Mmm, again,” Logan requested, but it sounded more like a demand.
Tate shifted forward to chase Logan’s mouth, and the erection inside him slipped free.
“How does it feel, having me inside you?” Logan asked by his ear.
Tate slid back and once again took Logan all the way inside him.
“There are no words,” Tate confided.
Then, he felt the hands on his ass clench as Logan shifted and bent his legs up, so his feet were on the mattress.
“Good, because I need to move inside you the way I’ve been dying to,” and that was all the warning Tate got.
* * *
Logan’s control was at an end. With his cock inside Tate as he rubbed a wet trail of cum all over Logan’s body, he was surprised he hadn’t already lost his cool.
As soon as Tate had sunk down on top of him, Logan had started to count backward from one hundred. The agonizing pleasure of seeing Tate’s body take him was too much.
When Tate had straddled him and his chest had been heaving with each anxious breath, Logan had worried at first that Tate had changed his mind. But after some gentle coaxing and a few quick thrusts to the right spot, that gorgeous man had begun to move, and Logan’s patience ended.
As Tate lay down over him, Logan could feel his body clenching around him. Palming his ass cheeks, Logan spread him open as he raised his feet to plant them on the mattress. When Tate placed his hands on either side of his head, Logan leaned up and bit his bottom lip as he pushed off the bed and drove up into him. He wasn’t exactly sure what Tate was feeling at that moment, but when their eyes met and Tate dropped his head, whispering, “Again,” Logan just about lost it.
Propelling his hips upward, Logan pulled Tate down, penetrating him deep and hard. Tate’s neck arched back, and then he surprised the shit out of Logan by sitting up and taking him as far inside his body as possible.
With a loud curse, Tate leaned back and placed a palm on the mattress between Logan’s legs, stretching his entire body out for him to look at. With frenzied eyes, Logan tried to take in everything, and there was no way he could not grab on to that stiff cock.
Reaching out to stroke Tate’s erection, the visual Logan had was something from his dirtiest fuck fantasies, and he couldn’t help but pound his hips up into Tate, hard. The sounds and words coming from Tate’s mouth were low, gravely, and filthier than a fucking sailor as he continued to roll his hips. Apparently, he’d found the exact right angle to continue hitting the spot he needed to drive himself crazy.
“Oh yeah. Right there, Logan. Fuck. Oh fuck!” and that was all it took.
Like a goddamn fountain, Tate’s cock erupted, and white ropey jets of his cum spurt out over Logan’s hand and stomach. As he gritted his teeth, holding off on his own climax, Tate rode out his, and what a fucking sight it was. Logan had known that once he had Tate, he’d never want to stop, and he’d been dead-on with that prediction.
Knowing Tate’s shaft would be sensitive, Logan reluctantly let go of him and lay there, his own breathing coming hard as he waited for Tate’s next move.
* * *
Tate shifted and heard Logan let out a quiet grunt, and he was surprised to feel that he was still hard. Tate’s orgasm had been fucking spectacular, and he was shocked to discover that being taken by Logan was just as addictive as taking Logan.
Staring down at the aroused and agitated man beneath him, Tate asked, unsure, “Now what?”
Logan bit his top lip as though in pain. “Slide off—slowly.”
Tate did as instructed, and the minute Logan slipped free from his body, he was almost overwhelmed by the sense of loss he felt. He didn’t have long to think it over though because Logan moved quicker than Tate thought possible. He sprung up off the bed and rolled them over until Tate was lying facedown on the mattress, and Logan was situated against him from head to toe.
Tate moaned as Logan bit his shoulder and held him down.
“Goddamn it, Tate, damn you.”
Tate shoved back, and when he felt Logan’s bare cock against his ass cheeks, he knew he’d removed the condom.
“Your ass, clinging to me as I slid out and then pushed back in,” he replayed seductively as Tate felt a hand push his hair aside and lips began sucking the skin of his neck. “Nothing has ever felt that good. And no one has looked as fucking mouthwatering as you riding me like you were made for it.”
Tate bit down on the pillow as Logan’s hips continued to move over his ass, and he promised, “Next time, I’m going to have you just like this. Facedown, ass up. But for now, I’m going to give your poor little hole a break. Just lay there, and let me look at what’s finally mine and no one else’s.”
Tate felt Logan’s body weight move back off him, and he remained where he was told with his legs spread out behind him as he heard the bottle open up once again. Closing his eyes, Tate imagined what he would see if he turned around—Logan kneeling between his legs, the wet slide he could hear of his fist moving frantically. When a large hand came down and began to smooth over his ass, Tate couldn’t help but move into it.
Logan cursed behind him, and Tate could feel a fingertip probing his well-used body. It actually felt good, so he widened his legs, and as soon it slipped inside him, he heard a harsh shout followed by his name, and then he felt hot, sticky liquid hit his spine and lower back as Logan came all over him.
Tate closed his eyes as Logan’s tongue licked over the skin of his back, and his hands smoothed up over him before he lay down, joining their bodies chest to back.
“Hmm,” Logan hummed in his ear. “You don’t taste like a cherry anymore.”
Tate turned his head on the pillow. “A cherry? I don’t—”
“Yep,” Logan interrupted, kissing his cheek. “I popped it, sucked on the seed, then licked it all up, and made it mine. ”
Tate heard Logan’s chuckle in his ear, and he had a feeling he was doing it to get a rise out of him. “So, what does that make you, my little cum-licker?”
Logan’s mouth froze where it was, and as a loud booming laugh left him and filled the sex-filled space, he rolled off of Tate. “Oh my God. That was good. I have to give you that one.”
Tate stayed where he was but smiled as he closed his eyes. “Good. Now, leave me alone. Since you’ve had me, you finally owe me some sleep.”
“Aw, have I been keeping you up at night?”
Tate cracked one eye open. “Logan?” He was about to tell him to shut up, but that was when the sound of his cell phone peeled through the room.
Tate knew that ringtone immediately. That was his mother—or his father, which would be worse. He didn’t move as he lay there, intent on the man lying beside him.
“You need to get that?” Logan asked, his expression now serious instead of the relaxed humor from seconds before.
They both knew that whoever was on the other end of that phone was going to change things.
So, instead of reaching for it, Tate scooted closer to his lover, laid his head on the same pillow, and told him, “I’ll call them back.”
“And then?” Logan asked, his body relaxed, but his eyes betraying his easy calm.
“And then…everything is going to change.”
Logan swallowed visibly and asked the question that Tate knew must have just about killed him, “Are you really ready for what’s about to happen here, with your parents?”
Tate raised his palm to stroke Logan’s jaw. As he leaned in and pressed their mouths together, he decided that now was the time. This was the moment where he asked again and hoped for a different outcome. It would either be the bravest thing he’d ever done or the most stupid. He looked directly into Logan’s eyes, and told him, “I always was. What about you—are you ready now to try?”
And patiently, Tate waited for the answer.
Read on for a glimpse of
Veiled Innocence
Spring 2014
And
TAKE
Logan & Tate’s story, will continue
Summer 2014
Veiled Innocence
by
Ella Frank
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. – Friedrich Nietzsche
You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequence of your choice. – Anonymous
Prologue
Drifting out into the field, I am hit with a sense of familiarity. Every time, the dream is the same. It never changes, never deviates. Not even once—ever.
Clasping Daniel’s small hand in my own, I cautiously look down the path we will take, knowing this is the only way. Ahead of us, as far as the eye can see are miles and miles of fields, blanketed in flowers of the deepest of blues and purples.
The colors, vibrant and loud, call to me, beckoning me closer—though I know what fate they hold, I can’t change our course. We’re bound to this path, as I am forever bound by my decision that led us there.
Squeezing the warm fingers in my palm, I manage a small smile at the trusting face turned up to me. I know this dream. I don’t want to be here.
Turning my back on such trust, I desperately seek a way out—a way to escape the world we have been sucked back into, but I know it’s no use. We can never escape.
“You’re late again Addy.”
His voice is exactly as I remember—cheerful sweet, and a little high-pitched. Looking down, I find the same blue eyes I possess peering back at me.
“Dad is gonna flip out. You know how he gets.”
“Shh, we won’t be late,” I promise, pulling Daniel’s arm up so I can see his watch. As always, it has stopped at 3:17 p.m. “Damn it.”
“Oooo, you cussed.”
“Daniel…” I warn, knowing we have no time.
I can hear it as it’s chasing me.
Tick, tick, tock.
The watch I was given for my fifteenth birthday methodically keeps time as the second hand ticks around the face.
Tick, tick, tock.
I watch it. I hear it. I memorize it.
“Come on. If we hurry we’ll make it, we still have time.”
As I step forward, a breeze brushes my cheek, making the hair on my arms rise as though someone has stepped on my grave.
“No, Addy. I have no time,” he tells me, and tugs his hand from mine.
It only takes a second for our connection to be severe, and as I turn to him, I know he is right. His time has stopped. It’s not my grave that has been stepped on.
Before I can reach him, the flowers around us wilt, shrivel into the ground, and as he disappears, everything before me fades to black.
All I am left with is darkness, a car horn’s insistent blast, the counting of the crosswalk—and the ticking of a clock…
Present…
Tick, tick, tock—one. Tick, tick…
“Addison?”
Tock—two.
Pulled from one nightmare and thrust firmly into another, I try to focus on the balding man sitting across from me. Jesus, I knew he was boring but this was the first time he’d put me to sleep. I’ve known Doc ever since Daniel—well, for three years, and now he’s been brought here. To help me, save me—heal me.
Tick, tick, tock—three.
“Addison? I’m going to ask you again.”
He’s concerned. They’re all concerned by what happened, but it’s too late.
Tick, tick, tock—
“Remember, anything you say in here stays right here.”
One.
They think I’m sick, that I’m…damaged.
“When did you last see Grayson?”
I tell him nothing. I never will.
“It’s okay to be open in here, Addison. No one is going to judge.”
That’s not true, I’m judging him.
“We just need to know. Where did you last see Grayson?”
Tickoneticktwotick—“You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”—fuck!
I hate interruptions. He knows that. Plus, I wouldn’t be sitting here if he didn’t think I should be ashamed.
“Okay, Addison.”
I wish he’d stop saying my name like that. It reminds me of…
“We’ll try this again tomorrow.”
And we will, that he’s not lying about. But I no longer care. What do I have left? Nothing. He is gone. I’m alone and all I can hear is…tick, tick…
Chapter One
Past…
Tock.
I looked at the watch strapped to my wrist before turning my head to Brandon.
“Hurry,” I urged, as he pulled me down hard onto his lap. With a groan, I craned my neck back, gasping into the tight interior of my car.
“What the hell Addy? I just got inside you.”
Straddling his lap, I ceased grinding against him, and glared instead.
“Well if you hadn’t been late…” I started, but he cut me off by sitting up in the passenger seat and connecting his mouth to mine.
“Quit bitching would you?”
I pulled my head back, twisting my fingers painfully through his brown hair.
“Fuck! That hurts.”
“You know how I am about this kind of shit.”
“It’s the first day back. No one’s gonna care if you’re five minutes late.”
“I’ll care.”
With a rough flex of his hips, he shoved himself further inside of me.
I guess he was right…who was going to care if I was a little late on the first day? It’s not like anyone would say anything to me anyway. I was poor little Addy. Plus, I hadn’t had sex in months since my mother had planned my entire summer vacation, down to the very last detail.
Brandon grunted as he moved inside of me again. Class could wait, but quickly I glanced at my watch again anyway, nasty habit—Tick, tick, tock—one.
~
I was late, just what I needed on my first day of my senior year. Then again, it wasn’t like any of my teachers would mention it, they didn’t dare.
Peering at myself in the girl’s restroom mirror, I was careful to make sure my lip gloss was perfect. My hair was falling in soft mahogany waves that I had painstakingly curled that morning, and my
clothes were all where they should be after my earlier activities.
Raising my chin, I studied the reflection staring back at me. Narrowing my eyes, I pouted my lips. Doc was always sprouting some shit about inner beauty being important, but once I heard a quote from Marilyn Monroe that said, Boys think girls are like books. If the cover doesn't catch their eye they won't bother to read what's inside. In my opinion, she had a much more accurate take on these kinds of things. So as usual, I was careful to make sure that this cover was extra eye catching.
I peeked at my timekeeper, faithfully guarding me, and followed the second hand as it made its rounds. I wished it would hurry up and get to the twelve because then I’d feel right about leaving. Instead, I was held in place, in front of the mirror—by invisible chains.
Tick, tick, tock—two.
~
First day on the job, and I already wanted out.
I scrawled my name across the chalkboard, like the responsible teacher I was expected to be. Unfortunately the smell of the chalk, and the scrape of it along the board did nothing to make me feel responsible, it just made me want to leave.
The clock hanging on the wall of my World History classroom was driving me crazy. I hadn’t been anywhere recently where I needed a clock or a watch, and the reminder that I was back on somebody else’s schedule was irritating as hell.
I’d just gotten back from six months of traveling across Europe—to now be restricted to four walls and a door made me irritable. The tie that I wore around my neck felt as though it was about to choke the life from me, and right then I would have welcomed it.
Not coming home hadn’t been an option. The minute I’d been told about my father’s deteriorating health, I knew I had to go to him. So thirteen hours and fifty minutes later, I was back home in Boulder, Colorado—a little over a month ago.
