Page 83 of Heart Over Heels

Still holding his middle, I moved my other hand lower, leaving a shiny smear across his ass as I moved toward the part between his cheeks. I drew a steadying breath, and Darby did tooas I slipped one lube-coated finger into his crease, probing and quickly finding the tight muscle of his hole.

His head dropped toward the counter, then he rocked his hips in subtle encouragement, easing me into his heat.

The initial resistance yielded as I slid inside. Since he was already a bit stretched, my second finger followed easily.

Darby’s breath quickened as he pressed into me. His shoulder blades rubbed against my chest, and his head lolled back as I pushed deeper.

A hush filled the tiny room while I worked my hand inside him. It didn’t take long to realize I was not a leader in this but a follower, a student schooled by the arch of his spine, the blanching of his knuckles as he gripped the counter, and the low hum vibrating from deep in his chest.

I adjusted my hand, scissoring my fingers and feeling him give beneath my touch. He was fully erect now, his cock small enough to easily fit in my palm… or mouth.

The thought brought with it a rush of arousal.

I’d gone from fingering a man’s asshole to fantasizing about sucking him off in a matter of minutes. Apparently, there wasn’t much I didn’t want to do as long as Darby was involved.

Ididwant to appreciate him, though. Indulge him. Hell, I would get on my knees and worship him given the chance.

My mind carried me away from the moment, or perhaps further into it as I began to thrust, rolling my hips against his ass as I fucked him with my hand.

In the mirror, Darby’s lips parted and his elbows locked as he chased the pressure I provided. I couldn’t decide whether to focus on the reflection or the man before me. It all bled together: sights, sounds, and sensations.

“Mercy,” Darby murmured. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna come in the fucking sink.”

Releasing the counter, he reached back to grab my wrist and ease me out. His ensuing sigh started my mouth watering, and I bent in to kiss the dip of his shoulder. He cupped my face, holding me there, then he sighed again as I nosed into his hair near the curl of his horn, wondering if he would feel it if I kissed there too. Then he craned his neck toward me and caught my mouth, crushing our lips together until the need for air forced us apart.

“I need you to fuck me now,” he whispered, mindful of my face and ears so close. Then he chuckled. “But not in the bathroom.”

I stepped back, letting him turn from the counter to face me at last. I thought he’d head for the bedroom, but he stayed put, looking me over with dilated eyes.

“Arms up, soldier,” he said, already grabbing for the hem of my tee shirt.

Without a thought, I obeyed, and the shirt was gone a moment later. Then came my pants. Buckle, button, and zipper were each undone in quick succession. The movements were smooth, practiced, and so deft that I didn’t think to protest until the denim was halfway down my thighs.

“Darby—”

“I said I want your dick, Mercy,” he said, still tugging. “I want your stiff cock thrusting into my tight, hot cunt until I…”

He crouched, holding the waistband of my jeans while at eye level with the joint of my knee, staring openly at the broken pieces of me.

I wanted to shy away or cover myself because even with my underwear on, I felt far too bare. Silence dragged for what must have only been a second, but my pulse seemed to pound a dozen times in that pause. Hammering as if driving nails into a coffin.

Darby rocked back on his haunches, and his head tipped up so he could find my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed before my voice broke completely.

He looked back down, studying my leg. Then he touched it. Soft hands skimmed over my skin, tracing the line where the stump met the socket. His touch was unhurried, tender, and so different than the rough, often frustrated rubbing of my own hands.

“Mercy?”

A chill crept up my back as he looked at me again.

“Why didn’t you tell me you come with accessories?”

A strangled laugh snuck out of me. “Just the one,” I replied.

He considered the prosthetic, plastic and metal gleaming in the vanity light. “Is it recent?” he asked.

“About a year ago.”