Page 63 of Winning You
“Yeah?” He’d never really cared about the concept of sight, but he wished he could relate a bit more to being able to observe something without having to touch it or hear it or smell it. To sit across the room, having no access to Frankie, but to be able to be overwhelmed by his presence?
Although he had a feeling just knowing Frankie was in the room would do that to him. Now that he knew him like this? Lucas would never be able to erase these sensations.
“I like you a lot,” he said.
Frankie’s fingers stilled. “Do you?” He sounded genuinely unsure of himself.
Pushing up on his elbows, Lucas touched the edge of Frankie’s jaw, then pushed his chin up and hoped it was at the right angle for him to see Lucas’s face. “I like you so much,” he repeated. “You are so overwhelmingly gorgeous.”
Frankie pushed one finger inside, and Lucas grunted hard at the intrusion. It was…different. He’d used his own hands and toys on himself, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with the feeling of being stuffed full. He liked it. He could come that way with the right angle.
But someone else’s finger was…strange.
Erotic, but a little overwhelming.
He squeezed around it and let out a shaking breath. “Mm.”
“Good?”
“Mmhm.”
Frankie began to pump his finger in and out. “You’ve done this before. To yourself. Tell me, princess, did you like it? Did you like fingering yourself open?”
“Not as m-much as this,” Lucas managed to get out. He flopped back down, his arms above his head, gripping at the edge of the mattress behind the pillow. His thighs were shaking again.
“Did you use a toy in your ass? Did you fuck it like it was a cock?”
He let out a whimpering sob as he clenched around a second finger, then a third. “Hnng. It…I…I liked it. I like th-this better.”
“I thought you might.” Frankie began to finger him harder, spreading them slightly, the stretch burning in the most delicious way. Then he curled at the knuckle and hit the spot that made Lucas’s entire body grow white-hot.
“Oh god, oh god…”
“Don’t come,” Frankie warned.
Lucas shook his head back and forth, back and forth, soothing himself as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him. “C-can’t. Can’t.”
Frankie removed a finger and began to gently pump two into his hole, slowing down like he was waiting for Lucas to breathe easier and relax. “May I ask you something?”
“I use a bidet,” Lucas said.
Frankie froze.
“To wipe my ass.”
There was a beat, and then Frankie tumbled out a laugh and leaned over, nipping Lucas’s thigh hard enough to make it sting. “You’re a fucking brat.”
Lucas grinned. “You turn me into a princess, you get a brat.”
He could feel the curve of Frankie’s smile against his leg as the older man kissed him again. “I was going to ask…” He hesitated, and Lucas knew then it was one of those tender questions most sighted people were afraid to ask him.
The ones that wanted to know how he knew when to stop wiping, or how he knew he was gay if he couldn’t see men, theywere the bold ones. Frankie’s question was going to come from a place that was genuine and probably kind.
“I will answer anything you want to know,” Lucas promised, his voice still a little weak from the fact that Frankie was still fingering the hell out of him. He shifted his hips so the touch would graze his prostate, and he lost himself in the sensation of it racing up his spine.
“What does gorgeous mean to you?”
“Hmm?”
