Page 90 of Code Word
His eyes grew glassy. “Blake,” he whispered.
“I love you, Luke. I never knew what love was supposed to feel like. I wish I hadn’t been so blind. I wish I’d known it was okay. I wish I’d seen how much I’d hurt you. I promise to make it right; I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ve never felt love like this. I never knew it could be like this. With anyone; with a man. With you.”
His smile was so serene, so perfect. His slow blink and long lashes, his beautiful eyes. “I love you, too.” Then he half cried, half laughed. “I didn’t expect the poetry.”
“Poetry?” I said with a laugh. “It was hardly?—”
“Shut up, it was fucking poetry,” he said, teary. He snuggled in closer, and I instinctively moved my leg to rest on top of his and, of course, forgot that my knee was sore. I stifled a groan, and he shot back. “Did I hurt you? Is your knee okay?”
I nodded and pulled him right back in close. “It’s okay. I just forgot about it. That ointment might smell like roadkill, but it works.”
Luke sighed in my arms, and we settled into a peaceful silence, a peaceful contentedness.
I fell asleep the happiest I’d ever been.
I wokeup with my dick pressed against Luke’s ass crack. The sun was barely up, fresh sunlight filling the room, painting the ocean almost a white blue, the sky much the same.
The blanket was on the floor, but we had body heat between us. He was pressed right up against me, his head on my arm, his soft breaths telling me he was still asleep.
My cock was rock hard, and I knew I’d have to crawl over him somehow, but my stupid knee was sore and even trying to flex my ass into the back of the sofa just made it worse because he squirmed in closer.
And mumbled in his sleep, pushing his ass against me.
Oh, fuck.
Yeah, this hard-on wasn’t going away on its own.
It was too far gone.
Iwas too far gone.
Never once had I thought about my dick in someone’s ass. Well, not before Luke. Now, pressed up against him, nestled in the cleft of his ass cheeks, my hand on his hip, I fucking wanted it.
So bad.
He mumbled something low and gravelly, then stretched a bit... and froze.
I kept my hand on his hip, holding him still. “Don’t move,” I whispered, begging. “Please. You’re killing me.”
He made a noise, low in the back of his throat. “Morning,” he replied, his voice thick with sleep and sounding like sin. He pushed back the best he could. “Doesn’t feel like I’m killing you.”
I laughed out a pained sound. “I need to get up, but my knee...”
He startled then, having clearly forgotten about that, and he sat up, looking back at me. “Oh shit. How does it feel?” He looked at my knee, but then his gaze stalled on my crotch before he finally drew back to my eyes. “Oh.”
I laughed, embarrassed. “I need to piss,” I said. It wasn’t a lie, but it was a good excuse. I swung my feet down to the floor and Luke helped me stand up, then helped me walk to the downstairs bathroom.
It kinda hurt to put weight on my leg, so I hobbled a little, grabbing hold of the sink. I expected Luke to leave me, but nope. He stood at the door and waited. “Ugh. It’d be easier to piss without a half-hard dick,” I said, needing to adjust my aim.
I finished and washed my hands, and when Luke came over to me, I kinda expected him to help me walk, but he half shoved me against the counter.
Trying to not put my foot down, I barely caught myself from falling over. “Uh, what the...?”
“Shut up,” he murmured, then went to his knees in front of me.
Oh.
Oh, holy fuck.
