Page 42 of The Rising Tide
Scout let out a long, slow breath and pushed back against Lucky’s hips, grinding against Lucky’s swollen groin.
Lucky hissed and thrust forward again, letting his hand wander a little lower, under the waistband of Scout’s briefs, appreciating the silkiness of the happy trail against his fingers. Scout made a tiny “Ah!” and Lucky’s chest was suddenly almost as swollen and achy as his cock.
God, he was so sweet! Beyond precious, and Lucky was suddenly not sure if this was the right thing. He wanted Scout so much, but Scout by his own admission was practically freshly hatched, and here Lucky was, grabbing him with greedy hands—
Scout, impatient with the lack of motion, reached under the waistband of his briefs and moved Lucky’s hand to his bare, erect cock, and Lucky almost came even as he squeezed Scout in his palm.
“Oh yes,” Scout breathed, and he rocked his hips back again as Lucky rocked his forward. Lucky took over stroking, any protests from his conscience silenced by the onslaught of pleasure—and of need—roaring through his bloodstream.
Scout clutched at his wrist, begging. “Yes. Oh yes… more… that. That thing you’re doing. Yes, that. Oh God, Lucky. Please!”
And Lucky was close—so close. Scout’s little cries drove him on, made him rock faster, grind harder, while maintaining his stroke on Scout’s cock.
It happened quickly—so quickly. Lucky’s thumb caught on the ridge on the underside of Scout’s cockhead, and Scout cried out, his fingers tightening on Lucky’s wrist. A scald of hot come lathered Lucky’s fingers, and he thought,I did that! I made him feel like that!And his own cock hit the back of Scout’s thigh just so and—
He groaned, bucking against Scout’s body, sinking his teeth into Scout’s shoulder as he came.
For a moment, harsh breathing filled his ears, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or Scout’s. His heart thundered, making his chest tight, and as his body floated down from orgasm, he felt a shaft of doubt. Oh God, did Scout even want that? Did he screw up? It was hardly hearts and flowers and—
Scout pulled Lucky’s hands out of his pants, and Lucky fought the urge to run far away in complete and utter embarrassment.
Then Scout turned in his arms and took his mouth, tenderly but confidently, and Lucky answered the kiss. Gah! He wanted all of this, all of Scout’s taste, all of his touch. A little voice sounded in the back of his mind that said he was the only one he wanted to touch Scoutever.
The kiss went on, seemingly forever, but Lucky thought it would never be long enough. Scout’s hands were now as busy as Lucky’s had been, and after Scout wriggled out of his briefs and his shirt, Lucky found those hands running across his chest under his sweatshirt.
“You going to leave this on?” Scout asked with a pout, and with some wriggling of his own, Lucky was naked and under the covers too.
They paused for a breathless second, both of them naked, skin to skin under the bubble of the warm blankets. It was like being in their own world.
“This is real magic,” Scout said, his eyes luminous in the light from the television. “This feels like it can move mountains.”
Lucky caught his breath, so drawn into Scout’s belief, his fervor, and the bone-deep conviction that what they were doing here in the dark was important, so important, to the fate of the world around them.
Then Scout’s mouth was on his again, and the world around them ceased to exist.
They tumbled in a flurry of bold, questing touches and kisses that grew more and more heated. Lucky’s hips were doing that thing again where he arched his groin against anything he could touch when Scout broke off from the kiss and said, “I’ve got a thing I want to try.”
“A thing?” Lucky muttered to himself as Scout deserted him for the warm cocoon of blankets that covered them both. “A thing? What sort of thing—”
Scout’s mouth closed over Lucky’s cock without any ceremony whatsoever.
“Oh my God, am I stupid,” Lucky breathed.
Scout’s response was to bob his head just a little, his mouth closing over the bell, and Lucky let out a full-throated groan.
“Oh that’s no fair,” he said, and Scoutchuckled, which was like the flutter of a thousand butterflies, all of them dancing on his cock.
“Augh! Scout! What’re ya—”
And Scout lowered his head some more, this time allowing Lucky’s cockhead to rub against his palate. “God, that’s good.”
Scout did it again, but deeper, and Lucky quit talking. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Scout squeezed his lips over Lucky’s base, and Lucky whimpered, completely at his mercy.
It was a good thing Scout was a good guy.
He allowed the blowjob to get wet, messy, slurping along Lucky’s length and licking if things got too sloppy. Lucky didn’t care. He’d stopped with the words and was down to nonsense syllables as Scout teased, licked, and sucked every bit of skin and every pleasure point on that important piece of flesh.
When Lucky was at the point where all he could do was thrust his hips andfuck, Scout kept only the head in his mouth and squeezed with his fist and Lucky’s orgasm swept over his body, leaving him helpless and grateful that the whole thing was in Scout’s hands.
