Chapter 26
Luke
Oliver lay sprawled across my chest, breathing in and out against my skin.
Which, ten out of ten, would recommend. His hair had that sexy-disaster thing going on, all tousled and touchable.
His cheeks were flushed, his lips all kiss-swollen and shiny.
We’d done that. Together. The sight, the thought, sent a burst of affection through me.
“Can you pinch me?” he asked, tracing the lines of ink on my arm.
“Pinch you?”
“Mm-hmm. I still can’t believe this is real. I keep waiting to wake up, to find out I imagined the whole thing. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
I kissed his head, obliging him with a gentle, teasing pinch to his side.
A sharp, undignified squeak burst from him as he bolted upright. “Hey!”
“You asked me to pinch you. I’m just delivering on the request.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
“Well, there’s your first mistake.”
“I thought you were nice.” he said with a pout I couldn’t take seriously because of how cute it was.
“I am nice. Nice enough to grant you proof you’re not dreaming.”
“Yeah, nice guy,” Oliver said. “You want to tell me how this came about?”
“That training session a few weeks ago. It sorta knocked me sideways. Made me look at things from a different point of view.”
“You mean when I got hard?”
“Yeah,” I said, carding my fingers through his hair, because how could I not?
The strands, all shiny and smooth, were made to be touched.
“That moment flipped everything. You walked away while I performed full NASCAR donuts in my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking about you or that sound you made.
The one you tried to swallow? It just set up camp in my brain.
I kept replaying it and thinking, ‘Wow, I wanna hear him do that again because of me.’”
“To confirm, my embarrassing horny noise basically rebooted your whole operating system?”
“More like it installed a software update I didn’t know I needed.
My system runs on emotional-connection-first OS, not FlirtySexMan 2.
0. Attraction stuff gets filed in the wrong folders.
I had everything about you saved under ‘Friendship & Support’ instead of the ‘Bro, You’re Into Him’ folder.
Your little pop-up alert forced a reboot and the screen came back like, ‘Surprise! You have feelings, idiot.’ Then the sexy stuff showed up knockin’ on the door like, ‘Hello, we’d like to participate in this emotional epiphany please. ’”
“And here I was terrified I’d crashed our system and ruined everything. But you’re saying my little ‘alert’ unlocked the ‘us’ feature I’ve been trying to run this whole time?”
“Yep. Looks like we both owe a debt of gratitude to your wayward dick. Perhaps a card is in order.”
“A card?”
“Yes, a thank you card in acknowledgment of its service in bringing us together. Dear Oliver’s dick .
. .” I mimed writing in the air. “Thank you for your unexpected but apparently mission-critical cameo during that fateful training session. Your surprise activation served as a much-needed notification to my brain that the feelings I had about your owner were not, in fact, ‘bro appreciation’ or ‘wow, my friend is neat,’ but the other kind. The kind with heart sparkles and longing and this need to hold him for hours upon hours. PS, my bad for ignoring your earlier attempts at communication. The memo finally reached the upstairs department. I promise to respond to future notifications with more self-awareness and less confusion. Yours in appreciation, Luke.”
“I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or touched you’re composing heartfelt letters to my dick.”
“The rule I live by is that when faced with two options, you should always go with the kinder, more generous interpretation. So, touched. You are unequivocally touched.”
“I think what I am right now is in need of a shower. Said dick is protesting the dried cum situation with increasing hostility. I’m being shellacked. If we wait any longer, we’ll have to peel off my underwear like a fruit-rollup paper.”
“Mm, yes, fruit-rollup dick, can’t have that. I suppose it’s my civic duty to relieve you of your hardships.”
“So this is charity now?” he asked, kissing the corner of my grin. “A noble act of community service?”
“Absolutely. You’re looking at a public servant of the highest caliber.”
“How selfless of you,” he said, the words fracturing as my fingertips skimmed down his torso, tracing the ridges of his stomach. I smiled into the hollow of his neck, savoring the flutter of his pulse.
“So selfless,” I agreed. Taking his hand, I led him to my master bath. Inside, I turned to face him again, took his face in both hands, and leaned in to press a slow kiss to his lips. “Let me,” I said, toying at the waistband of his pants.
“Yes.”
Leaving a string of kisses along his torso as I went, I sank to my knees, pulling down his sweats and guiding them to the floor. He stepped out, one foot and then the other, his legs trembling with anticipation.
I peeled down the final layer. His cock sprang free, flushed and full, with an elegant curve in its shape.
I wanted it in my mouth. An unexpected but not unpleasant thought.
My desire often packed up the moment the emotional high settled, like thanks for the warm feelings, I’m clocking out now.
But tonight, it stayed, and I wanted to follow this new thread of desire wherever it led.
I wanted more of this closeness, more of him softening in my hands, more of the trust shining in his eyes when he said my name.
“So beautiful,” I murmured, taking the silky skin in my hand and giving a single slow stroke before leaning forward and tracing a tentative lick across the head.
Oliver’s breath hitched, his fingers burying into my hair. “Hey, hey, yellow light.”
Leaning back, I tilted my head to meet his eyes. “What’s up, angel?”
“I want this. God, I do. But before we go further, I need to know that you want this too. That you’re not doing this to appease me. I don’t ever want you doing things because you think it’s what I expect. So, is this something you want, right now in this moment?”
There were times in my past I had straight-up pushed myself into sex I didn’t want.
I’d hit myself with that whole “relationships require compromise” speech.
I’d think, “Well, it’s not fair they don’t get their needs met just because I’m not in the mood,” and then I’d force myself through it.
And afterward I’d feel awful. Empty. Gross.
Mad at them, mad at me, mad at the entire situation.
After doing that way more times than I was proud of, I made myself a promise. Never again. Not for anyone.
Which is why Oliver stopping to ask if I truly wanted this hit me like a truck full of feelings.
He actually understood that my desire wasn’t some switch that once on stayed that way.
He saw me and respected the way I was wired.
And that hit deeper than any sexy moment ever could.
It made me feel safe and respected. And that made me want him even more.
“I want to,” I said. “Really want to. It’s true this isn’t something that shows up on a predictable schedule for me.
I can’t promise I’ll always be in the mood for sexy times, but what I can promise is that I’ll never engage with you in this way unless I’m fully here for it.
And right now, I am. I’m present and feeling it. I want to share this with you.”
“Okay, thank you. That’s all I needed to know. If it’s a yes from you, it’s a yes from me.”
“It’s an absolute yes from me. A big green light.”
Pressing a slow open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock, my tongue teased along the sensitive rim. He shuddered. Licking again, slower this time, I savored the salt of his skin and the alkali remains of his earlier release. It spread across my tongue, intimate and complex and thrilling.
“Luke,” he moaned.
That gave me all the encouragement I needed.
Still gripping his cock with one hand, my other came up to the curve of his ass, guiding him forward, sucking the crown of him into my mouth.
And then it hit me. I had zero technique.
I mean, I knew the basics—avoid teeth, lick, suck, bob—but I needed to give the most perfect blow job anyone had ever received in the entire recorded history of oral sex, and I was a rookie player sent into the championship game with no training montage.
His cock pulsed and I let out an internal sigh of relief. If just holding him in my mouth drew that kind of reaction, I probably couldn’t go too wrong. That’s what I’d choose to believe at least. The thought pushed me into motion.
Lapping up every trace of his cum, I dragged my tongue around his head.
Oliver grew particularly noisy when I flicked my tongue over the band of tissue connecting his foreskin to the head.
With my tongue carrying the work so far, I shifted to the power of my mouth.
Pursing my lips, I sank lower along his shaft, swirling him inside my mouth before sliding back up.
Moving my hand from the meat of his butt, I traced the swell of his cheek, fingers grazing down his thigh to fondle his balls.
Oliver’s breath came in broken puffs, interspersed with soft, breathy moans that made my spine tingle and my chest tighten with fondness. Those sounds were music, a chart topper. I wanted more. I wanted to lavish him and spoil him and give him pleasure beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
I drew back to murmur against the tip of his cock, my lips brushing over the sensitive skin. “I love the way you respond to me, how you come alive in my mouth.”
“Fuck, Luke, I—”
Whatever he meant to say vanished as I swallowed him again. This time I took him deeper, drawing him in with hollowed cheeks. My tongue glided along the underside of his shaft, tracing every throbbing heartbeat.