Mark let out a strangled sound.
“This is who you are, isn’t it? You’re my gorgeous, brilliant darling. You do what I tell you to, because you know I’ll take care of you,” Francis spoke in a low tone. He twisted his wrist, adding a fourth finger that stretched Mark just a little bit more.
Mark’s hips began to move on their own volition, and Francis could feel the head of his cock bump his thigh.
“No, stop that.” He stilled his hand. “Only when I tell you to.”
Mark whined but stilled.
“Well done. Just for a while longer now,” Francis promised.
He began to thrust his fingers in and out with more force, and Mark’s noises grew into a continuous litany of grunts and moans.
Ignoring his own erection, he pushed his hand under Mark, biting back a moan when his arm pressed against his own dick.
He wrapped his fingers around Mark’s cock and grinned.
Then he noticed a light coming through the blinds from the distance. Headlights.Couldn’t have timed that any better.
It was a truck. The small house vibrated as it slowly drove past.
“What if he looks at the house? Sees a glimpse of you just like this as he passes by?” Francis said. “Come when you’re ready.”
He drilled his fingers into Mark and jerked his cock with his other hand.
Before the vibrations ended, Mark howled, his back bowing as he came hard, his wildly contracting hole clutching Francis’s fingers.
Chapter Thirteen
Francis drove his fingers deep into Mark and pressed on his prostate.What if someone sees?The hand around his cock was almost too much.
Mark felt desperate, so fucking fragile on Francis’s lap. The praise and the words made him float higher, and then, then the telltale rumble of a truck penetrated his hazy mind.
“What if he looks at the house? Sees a glimpse of you just like this as he passes by? Come when you’re ready.”
The thought of humiliation turned into something akin to exhibitionism in the safety of Francis’s presence.
And Mark flew.
* * * *
“There you are, darling.” Francis’s voice pierced his consciousness, and Mark realized he’d gone fuzzy for a while.
His body felt loose, as if tension had been yanked out of him. He smiled against the pillow, then shivered as Francis pulled his fingers out.
Holy hell.Francis had done exactly what he’d say he would, hadn’t he?
“You can talk now,” Francis said, patting his back.
“Can’t move,” Mark croaked, his voice shot for some reason.
Francis chuckled. “That’s fine. Here, let me help you.” He wiped his hand on the back of Mark’s top and then helped to maneuver him into a sitting position—on his lap.
Mark flushed red, which made no sense, because he’d just let Francis do… allthatto him.
“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, let’s move a bit more.” Francis helped him to his feet and shifted to sit in the corner of the couch.
He put one foot on the floor and his other leg straight against the couch, forming a large ‘V’ for Mark to sit in. Then he patted the cushion between his thighs and smiled at Mark.
