Mark sets me on my back and promptly undresses me. “I’m establishing myself,” he replies, unconcerned.
“You don’t need to do that in front of Chris. He’s not trying to chase you off,” I say. If Chris had an issue with Mark, he would do just that. “He wouldn’t have told you about my brothers if he didn’t approve of you. Although keep this up and he’s going to stopapproving.”
Mark has my prosthetic off and me in only my boxers by the time I finish.
He shucks off his own clothes and crawls on top of me. “You’re my favourite person,” he says, happily.
His behaviour in front of Chris is forgotten.
“I am?”
“So pretty, so sweet…” Mark pulls back the blankets and gets us underneath them. And then gets back on top of me, settling himself between my thighs. I love the weight of him on me, love his kisses and his sweet words. He whispers more into the dip of my collarbone, praises into the tendons of my neck, soft groans into the sensitive spot behind my ear as our bodies move together.
My hands slide around to hold his back, loving how his muscles flex beneath my palms. Mark’s groans transform to breathless repetitions of my name. Our bodies roll together, and Mark tenses suddenly, grunting as he releases. I caress his back through his orgasm, hot all over. It’s the first time he came before me and I like holding him as he unravels.
I shuffle beneath him to get my head turned and plant soft kisses of my own against his lips. Mark hums, returning a kiss that feels like a soft caress. After a moment, he lifts his weight. I object, trying to keep him against me.
Mark’s hair is rumbled, strands falling forward to cover his forehead. His black eyes, usually sharp and glinting, are soft. His little smile makes my heart stop. “I neglected you,” Mark notes, running his knuckles over my covered cock.
“Not at all,” I whisper back, afraid a loud voice might break this moment of softness.
Mark answers my pleading hands, bending to kiss me as he administers soft attention to my body. His kisses trail down, his head vanishing beneath the covers. He peels down my underwear, and his hot breath touches my cock; and I’m gone. I orgasm hard, crying out, and clutch a handful of curls into a fist.Ugh, embarrassing.I came early again. Yet, Mark doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. He dips his head, sucking my entire flagging length into his mouth. He cleansme with his mouth until I whimper, too sensitive, and only then does he move on. He slips my underwear off and tosses them away, and lies out next to me.
Mark tugs me to his side, turning so I’m the little spoon. “Still sore down here?” he murmurs, sounding drunk as he touches my behind.
I nod. I’ve been reminded of our time in bed every time I sat down all week.
Mark noses the back of my neck. “Do you want a massage?”
“I’m good. Tired.”
“In the morning, then. I bought bruising cream to use inside.”
“I’m not bruised.” I object.
“Just in case, babe,” Mark murmurs, mostly to himself. I twist to see his eyes shut; his breaths coming deep and regular.
“Are you sleep talking?”
He just hums.
I smile to myself, reaching over him to turn off the lights.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I sit on the bleachers, listening to runners squeaking on wooden boards, balls bouncing, and a mixture of encouragement for beginners and trash talk between those more experienced. I’m only half-listening to Louis describe the strengths and weaknesses of the latest recruits. Mark snatches away the bulk of my attention. Too many squats and grunts. Too many heated looks cast my way.
“Want to pass the ball?” Louis asks.
I jolt. “What?”
He nods to my prosthetic leg, though only Mark and Tommy actually know that’s what it is beneath the concealment of clothing. “As long as it doesn’t hurt your leg too much? I’ll work on my accuracy, so you don’t have to go chasing it.” Louis grins brightly.
I came to watch Mark. It didn’t really occur to me that I couldparticipate. Nerves churn in my stomach, but I find myself nodding. “But you really can’t lob it at me, Louis,” I say. “I don’t want to lunge for it on instinct and get hurt.”
“No pressure!” Louis says, hopping nimbly to his feet. “I’m glad you could come today. I’ve missed my accounting comrade. Everyone else groans at me when I talk about my course.”
I grin. “Or tells you how boring it is.”
