Chapter Fifteen

I'm on my back blindfolded. Fear of Chris walking into the living room in the middle of this prompted me to lead Mark to my bed instead. Chris already saw us making out in the hallway. If he saw me blindfolded, I'm not sure I'd be able to convince him we weren't doing something kinky.

"This is perfect," Mark says as he folds up my trousers. "I can give you the massage now."

"Only if you want me to fall asleep," I warn. If it's anything like the one from before, Mark's expert hands will have me knocked out in moments.

Mark hums. He peels back the sleeve and applies pressure against the prosthetic until the suction releases my stump and the device comes free. He peels off the lining and rubs feeling back into my leg, his fingers working their way into my thigh muscles. The bed dips down as he moves onto it, and I feel his weight near the knee on my good leg. He hooks my left knee over his thigh, giving himself a better angle to reach all of my thigh.

I relish the feeling of his large hands working through my muscle groups, and sigh in delight as I relax against him. Unconsciously, my right leg draws up and presses against his body.

"Feel good?" I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Really good," I sigh.

I'm putty when his fingers tease high in my thighs, and I groan as he massages my behind. "Mark." I grab his wrists.

Mark makes a strangled noise. "Moaning my name is off-limits while your brother's in the house. Got it?"

I simply can't agree, not when his fingers are working my muscles so expertly.

"It's not even my leg you're massaging," I complain.

Mark grunts. He returns his attentions to my leg, and I vie between turned-on and so goddamn relaxed I'm at risk of turning into a puddle.

"Have you taken massage courses?" I ask.

"No."

"Ah. It's experience from all your hook-ups—" I yelp. Mark flips me and I end up with a mouthful of sheets. It drowns my initial complaint, and then Mark's hand is against my nape and his body hovers over me. The weight of his knees appear on either side of my hips and the bed dips above my head where his arm must be set as his spicy cologne overwhelms me.

"I don't know what kind of hook-ups you've had, but mine don't typically involve full-body massages," Mark says against my ear.

If Tommy saw Mark pinning me like this, or Chris for that matter, Mark would be fighting for his life. I die of arousal, heating throbbing through my core as my cock decides it's done being relaxed—it's very much paying attention now.

I squirm, breathing heavy.

Mark's hips lower down, sinking his weight onto my bottom half, and I rut my ass against his hardening cock.

Mark's lips touch against my ear in the whisper of a kiss. "Tommy got himself in a fuss about me being rough, and yet look how fast that got you hard?"

I groan.

"Shh," Mark releases my nape and his top half presses down on me then, too. I slide one arm up, the other down, using them to push up as much as I can to get enough leverage to thrust my hips. I can feel the outline of his cock, and it's intoxicating that I'm the one making him react and harden.

Mark exhales harshly against my neck, and I gasp as his mouth presses against my nape. He trails kisses to the top of my spine. I shudder and move more urgently, trying to find friction between Mark and the bed.

Both of us breathe harder as I rut against him, and Mark's hand slips between me and the bed, and I whimper as fingers slip into my mouth. "Careful, Kyle," Mark murmurs. "Moan any louder and Christopher will know you're having your way with me in here."

I slow, panting, and worry that I'll bite Mark. I'm close to coming and I don't want to hurt him.

"All done?" Mark teases, nipping my ear. "Want me to take over?"

He thrusts his hips forward, cock sinking into the space between my cheeks, and his larger body pushes me into the sheets. I can't move an inch, and it tips me over the edge. I climax, moaning around Mark's fingers, and jerk my hips desperately as I come. My movement peters out and I mumble around the obstruction in my mouth.

Mark kisses my cheek and withdraws his fingers.

"Did I bite you?" I ask, panting.

"Hmm. You did," Mark hums. He rolls me onto my back, and his nose nudges mine. "Why don't we do what you suggested last time?"

I'm breathing hard, my body coming down from my high. I nod and reach down to pull my shirt up.

"Hold it there," Mark instructs.

I hear a zip and a wet squelch. I can feel the movement of air just above my bare stomach. I wish I could see.

Mark's breath exhales on my face. His nose nudges mine again, and then his mouth slants over mine and his tongue is in my mouth. I remember to hold my shirt up with one hand. The other I sink into Mark's hair, loving how his soft curls tangle around my fingers.

I try to get my tongue into Mark's mouth like before, but it ends up in a tangle in my mouth instead. Overestimated, I groan, trying to say his name.

Mark's breath falters. His hips suddenly buck forward, and I feel the first splatter of hot semen on my stomach, followed by more as Mark unloads on me. I whimper at how good it feels.

Mark breaks the kiss and lifts his weight.

"I want to see," I whisper, hoarse.

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 weighty resting 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.