Page 47 of Missed Steps
Mark grunts. He sits back on his heels and flips the edge of the blanket over my left leg before he carefully tugs the blindfold off. I blink to adjust to the light, and glance down to the vision of Mark situated between my legs, his softening cock in his hand, and his release splattered on my stomach.
My gaze darts to him first, and you’d think my shyness would kick in and stop me staring, but it doesn’t. His trousers are undone, and his cock is poking out of the slip in his underwear, and it looks weightyresting in Mark’s hand. He’s on the thick side. And when I drag my gaze to his face—I’m captivated. His eyes are bright, intent on me, and his hair is a tousled mess. A sheen of sweat makes his skin shine.
My gaze then slips to my own self. I have a wet patch in my trousers, and, of course, semen all over my stomach.
I lift myself, and my t-shirt slips down. I make a noise of complaint in my throat, not appreciating the result of moving.
“I’ll get tissue, hang on.” Mark gets off the bed and strides to the bathroom. He returns with a roll of toilet roll and I’m disappointed to see him clothed again, weighty cock no longer on display. No wonder I’ve been able to feel it when he’s been aroused.
Mark cleans me up and my mind settles.
“I’m going to shower.”
Mark’s lips twitch into a smile. “Probably a good idea. Come here, I’ll carry you. Blindfold?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Will I turn off the lights instead?”
“While you’re carrying me? I’ll end up losing the other leg, too.”
Mark snorts. “Just come here already.”
Mark helps me to the shower chair and brings me my crutches and a fresh change of clothes before he leaves me to myself to wash. I’m too tired to worry or fuss, so I grin stupidly to myself instead as I shower.
Mark sits on the bed, waiting when I come out. “Do you want to shower, too?” I ask. He didn’t make a mess of his clothes like I did, but we were both fully dressed, and it had been a rather hot and sweaty affair.
“If that’s alright?”
“Go ahead.”
I go to the bed and dig out the shrinker sleeve to pull on over my stump before I crawl under the blankets. It’s a mistake, because as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m hardly able to keep my eyes open. I’m drifting off when the lights switch off, and the bed dips at my back.
“Am I here or the couch?” Mark whispers to me.
I smile to myself. “Whatever you feel like.”
I’m delighted when he promptly joins me under the blankets and slips his arm around my waist. Just as I suspected, Mark’s size means I can feel him even though he’s soft. I sink against Mark as much as possible and drift off in his arms.
Chapter Sixteen
I smell bacon as I wake. I’m disorientated, and I’m not sure why it’s hard to breathe or why I’m so hot. I try to lift a hand to get the blankets out of my face, and Mark grunts, rolling so that he’s even moreon top of me. “Enough wiggling, Kyle,” Mark grumbles, sleepily. His voice is husky and I feel the rumble of his chest through our skin contact.
I’m very much awake now. Mark lies on top of me, crushing me into the mattress. He’s got the blankets pulled up over our heads.
“Morning,” I murmur. I’m far more excited about the fact that he stayed the night than I am bothered about being squished…although I’m hot, sticky, and I can feel that Mark is, too.
“Not yet,” Mark mumbles. He moves again, and I suspect for a moment that everything—him approaching me, being friendly and flirty—was all a long con. It was all planned and coordinated for this moment to suffocate me.
“It’s too hot,” I complain, finding more of my voice. “If you just pull down the blankets so we can breathe? It doesn’t mean we have to get out of bed.”
Mark doesn’t do that. His breathing tells me he’s not falling back to sleep, as does his body. He’s not relaxed on top of me but has tightened his muscles to hold me against him.
“My leg hurts.”
Mark jerks away. “Shit. I thought I wasn’t pushing on it.”
“You weren’t.” I snort. I seize my chance and flip the blanket off my face. I groan, covering my eyes against the assault. I turn away from the windows, hiding my face against Mark’s chest. “Why are the curtains all open?”
