Words? Asking a bit much of Logan just now, aren't we?
With that hot, moist tongue dancing around his nipples...doing to him what he so loves doing to other men...and the hand on his back spreading warmth and pleasure through him, charging him with it like Remy usually charges his cards with energy...
Then add on the handjob of a lifetime, and yeah, coherent thoughts are a thing of the past.
All Logan can do is feel, and moan, and trust. He looks up at Remy with passion and desperation in those deep, dark eyes. Trusting him. Needing him.