Page 48 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“That’s for talking out of your ass. Your glasses. Can you take them off? They kind of get in the way of kissing you.”
He stared down at Lucian, but a worm of worry crawled through his gut as Lucian met his stare, his expression neutral and unreadable. Arlo’s stomach crash landed in his boots. He’d killed the moment. Lucian would roll away and get to his feet, and suggest that maybe it was time to—
Lucian removed them, folded them in, and placed them to the side, saying nothing as he blinked up at Arlo.
Gazing at Lucian’s starlit face, a lump the size of a boulder lodged in his heart. Beautiful didn’t come close. Lucian’s eyes were huge and, even in the moonlight, his eyelashes were thick and soot dark and way longer than they had any right to be. Without the glasses, Lucian looked younger, more innocent and untouched by the kicks and punches of life; a quiver of disquiet rippled through Arlo, and he swallowed. There were years between them, maybe too many.
As though reading his unspoken thoughts, Lucian reached up and tugged him forward.
“They’re not the only things that come off.” Lucian’s voice, breathed into his ear, was lower, rougher, deeper than he’d heard before.
For all his sweetness, Lucian was an experienced man. All of Arlo’s doubts washed away, and his flagging cock thickened.
Lucian shifted and unbuckled his belt. His hand sought his zipper, but Arlo pushed it aside and slowly eased it down over the bulge stretching the front of Lucian’s jeans, feeling him shiver as the metal dragged over his swollen cock. Spreading open the denim revealed plain white boxer shorts, stretching over the solid ridge of Lucian’s erection.
Arlo’s mouth dried as he gazed down at the man spread out beneath him and, cupping him in his hand, he squeezed and kneaded, his heart pumping hard at the fulness pressing into his palm, at the heat, at the pulse of blood, at the tiny throbs and twitches. Pushing up into his palm, Lucian’s moans sent a searing spasm of need deep into Arlo’s balls, and his own needy, neglected cock demanded attention.
“Ah, shit.” With trembling fingers, he wrenched his belt open, tugged his zipper down, and pushed off his jeans, taking his boxers with them.
Lucian’s boxers had also gone, leaving him gloriously and beautifully naked from the waist down. Resting on his flat lower belly, Lucian’s cock twitched impatiently.
“Jeez, Lucian, you’re—”
“Don’t say it. Please.”
Arlo’s heart stuttered. Don’t say it? Don’t say that Lucian was beautiful?
How many times had he been told he wasn’t, for him to not even stand to hear the word? Arlo ached to hold him close and tell him he was everything that word was and so much more, that those who’d said otherwise had been blind, fools, or both. Arlo drew in a deep breath. If he couldn’t tell him, he could show him how beautiful he was.
He leaned down and brushed his lips over Lucian’s in the softest of kisses, his heart fizzing at Lucian’s shuddering sigh.
Kiss after kiss, each as soft and sheer as the lightest, airiest cotton candy. Gliding his hands down, Arlo trailed over the warm, taut skin of Lucian’s belly, before finding his cock and wrapping his palm around the hot, wet shaft. He began a slow upwards stroke, guiding the foreskin of Lucian’s uncut cock over the glistening head, before easing back down, all the time watching, transfixed, as Lucian moaned, and gasped, and cried, and arched his back, pushing deep into the touch.
“Oh my god, Arlo. That feels good. No, better than good, it’s—”
“Shush. It feels as it feels. Just enjoy it, babe, just give yourself up to it and feel.”
Above them, clouds were forming, scudding across the moon and plunging them into shadowy blackness before once more drenching them in warm, waxy light. For Arlo, the world had contracted to the beautiful man beneath him and to this moment alone. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. There was only Lucian, and there was only now.
Arlo forgot all about his own pressing need as he lost himself in Lucian. Every gasped out whimper and cry, every gritted out, incomprehensible word was an arrow in his heart, piercing and bringing down his defenses piece by piece by piece.
Riding Lucian’s cock with his tunneled fist, his other hand found Lucian’s full, heavy balls. Rolling, rubbing, massaging, their hot weight filled his palm. Attuned to every shift in Lucian’s body, his gut and nerves knew before what little remained of his rational brain, Lucian was moving towards the edge to tumble head first over the precipice.
“Arlo, I—”
“No, baby. Not yet.” Arlo pressed down on the base of Lucian’s cock, stemming the rising flood that threatened to break through the dam.
Lucian answered with a groaning wail as he threw an arm across his upper face. His lips stretched wide, his teeth bared in a grimace, as muttered words Arlo didn’t even want to try to guess the meaning of were ground out into the night.
Arlo’s own needs refused to be ignored any longer. He freed his aching cock from its cotton prison, hissing through clenched teeth as he wrapped his palm around his sensitive shaft, sweeping his thumb pad over the wet, juicy slit. In the last disintegrating corner of his brain, he questioned when he’d last been so dripping, so wet, so fucking, incredibly aroused. The answer came back, loud, clear, a sucker punch to his gut.
Never.
The word was an explosion in his heart, blasting him towards his own climax. Beneath him, Lucian had slung his arm away from his face. Gazing up at him, his eyes were a glittering, dark flame against the paleness of his face. Their gazes locked as their orgasms gained strength, their force both undeniable and unstoppable. Arlo captured both their cocks, jacking them in one hand, the drag of burning skin on burning skin slick with their combined juices was the red nuclear button that released the explosion.
Lucian cried out as he came, his hips thrusting upwards, still for the tiniest of moments, before they jerked hard as he emptied himself, spilling hot, slippery seed over Arlo’s tunneled fist. Arlo’s own orgasm, just seconds after, crashed through him, every part of his body twitching and jerking as he came with a force that seared the skin from his bones, evaporated the air in his lungs, and boiled the blood in his veins. His ears buzzed, white noise crackled with static in his head, the power of his climax a nuclear wind destroying what little part of him remained.
Their spent cocks, already softening, slipped from his grasp. Collapsing on top of Lucian, Arlo closed his eyes.
