Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,57
confident and less absentminded than usual. It stirs my curiosity. “Do you prefer to top?” I ask.
He steps into me, and I lean back gratefully against the wall as his body sinks into mine. “I don’t have a preference, but I really want to fuck you today,” he says, taking my face in his hands. I fall into his kiss, enjoying the softness of his lips and scent of his citrussy cologne. It always makes him smell like summer. When he pulls away, my mind is blurry and I chase his lips.
He swallows hard, and I smile because he’s as far gone as I am. He grabs the bottom of my jumper and pulls it up. Something about the forcefulness of the action stirs my blood, and I raise my arms obediently. He tugs the jumper over my head and lets it drop to the floor. Then he kisses me again—long, slow kisses as we start to grind against each other.
Getting the rest of our clothes off isn’t smooth. We catch heads and ears and knock noses, but the bumps are accompanied by stifled laughter and hungry touches. It’s very unlike my encounters with previous partners, where every action seemed steeped in concentration and the desire to make things perfect. Arlo doesn’t seem particularly bothered about awkwardness, laughing as hard as me when I accidentally elbow him in the face after he touches a ticklish spot.
“Let me do it,” he says, laughing.
His push takes me by surprise, and I fall back onto the bed. I’m laughing, too, as he strips off my jeans and boxers. He finishes with my socks, and then I’m lying naked in front of him.
The avid gleam in his eyes saves me from feeling self-conscious. He wants this just as much as I do, and he’s stripping off his own jeans quicker than a member of the Chippendales. Although, the comparison doesn’t quite work, because Arlo suddenly trips and falls over. There’s a thump and a curse.
I lift up on my elbows. “You okay?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
He pops up next to the bed like a jack-in-the-box. “Fine, fine. Pretend it never happened.”
“I know nothing,” I say solemnly.
He laughs. “Well, discretion is its own reward, as your mother always says.”
“She’s never said that, and please let’s never mention her when we’re in bed.”
He makes a zipping motion over his lips and throws himself down on the bed, narrowly missing putting my eye out, but I don’t have time to say anything because he kisses me. When we next come up for air he’s leaning over me and my legs are open. I can’t help my smile as he brandishes a lube bottle at me triumphantly. However, when he traces slicked-up fingers between my cheeks and over my hole, I can’t help my reaction. I flinch.
He stops immediately. “Jack?” His hand trembles against me, and I know his control is being tested.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “Sorry. It just took me by surprise.”
“Have you done this before?” he asks cautiously.
“Several times.”
He wrinkles his nose. “And was it good?”
I attempt a shrug. Carelessness is hard to pull off when you’re naked and a man’s got his finger in your crack. “It was fine,” I say. “Come on. Let’s do it.”
To my astonishment, he sits back on his heels. “No, I need to know what you mean by the word ‘fine.’”
I come up onto my elbows and stare at him. “It was fine. That word ably describes my bottoming experiences.”
“Fine should never be used about sex.” He pauses. “Or how your boyfriend looks in his jeans. Oh, and cakes.”
Unbidden, my lip twitches, but he holds my gaze, and I know he’s not going to give up on this issue. “I did it with my first boyfriend,” I finally say.
“Stuart?”
“It was okay.” I hold my hand up to stop his protest. “That’s the only way to describe it. It hurt. It wasn’t comfortable. But he still made me come in the end.”
“And did it get better the next time you did it?”
I wince. “Not really. He wasn’t a terribly patient person.” I smile at his angry face. “Arlo, we were both seventeen. That’s not an age known for patience. I always felt a bit awkward, to tell you the truth.” His gaze sharpens and I shrug. “It’s a vulnerable thing to do and I didn’t feel…” I hesitate. “I couldn’t let go enough to relax with him.”
He strokes my hip. His fingers are sticky with lube, but I