Accidentally Beautiful

by Deanna Wadsworth

  Retrieving two beers, he cracked them open. Marty took one and, after an appreciative sniff at the Scottish label, took a long pull. “Right, Mr. Fischer, looks like ya thought of everythin’.”

  “Sure did.” Garret withdrew a few foil packets from the basket and tossed them on the blanket, silencing his humor at once.

  Placing his palm over Marty’s, he watched his date fix his attention on their clasped hands. Garret had never been so at ease in another man’s company. As if everything in his life had led him to this one moment, enjoying a beer on an exotic beach, holding hands with the man who belonged to him. The man who needed Garret to take care of him, and the one he’d be damned if he let go.

  Marty’s giggle broke the silence, startling Garret. “What?”

  “I’ve never done anything so reckless.”

  “What? Get sucked off in front of twenty guys?”

  Releasing his grip, Marty rolled onto his back, face scrunched in silent hilarity, knees coming up off the blanket a bit. Holding his beer out, so it did not spill, he nodded quickly and hysterical laughter bubbled out of him. Whether the lingering effect of the pot from the bar, or post-orgasmic bliss, Garret adored this carefree Marty.

  Leaning over him, Garret examined his face. “Did you like it?”

  Breathless and brown eyes shining, Marty nodded once.

  “Which part?” he prompted. “Having people watch you, or doing what I said?”

  Again, Marty nodded, face somber now.

  “Which is it? Speak up.”

  “Both.”

  Digging the base of his beer into the sand, Garret reached out and stroked Marty’s cheek before running his fingers through his hair. Marty turned into the caress, eyelids fluttering, and lips parting wantonly. “Do you like being told what to do?” Garret asked.

  Marty closed his eyes, but didn’t remove himself from his touch. “Perhaps. I don’t know.”

  “Have you ever obeyed another man?”

  He took a long pause. “Once, a long time ago.”

  “Tell me,” he commanded softly, stroking his chin and down the center of his chest.

  Marty let out a sniff. “He was straight.”

  “Straight?”

  “Right? I had to be mad. He was just my mate, but I trusted him, ya know? Respected him. He could handle himself in any situation. He protected me from bullies, taught me to be a better person. If I didn’t know what to do or how to deal with a situation, he would tell me what I should do.”

  Garret rested his palm over his heart. “What happened?”

  “I kissed him. He kissed me back, too. Curious probably, we were just lads.” Marty shrugged. “But when I took it further, tried to…ya know…touch him, he stopped it.”

  “I’m sorry. Was he cruel?”

  Marty rolled onto his side to face him, resting his fingers on Garret’s thigh. “No, old Ian McCallum doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body. He told me that he knew I was gay, and he was sorry he kissed me back. He wanted to forget the whole thing. Since we were about to go to university, I went along with it. But I was angry at myself for being so daft, following him around like a puppy all those years, doing whatever he told me to do. When I went to school in Toronto, I swore I would be more self-sufficient, but I felt so….” He seemed to struggle for a moment.

  “Lost?” Garret supplied. “Scared?”

  Shoulders dropped, he grew quiet.

  He covered Marty’s hand with his own. “You need direction, don’t you? Someone to lead you?”

  Eyes wide with distress and unease, Marty shifted to clasp their hands together. He worried his lower lip, studying Garret’s face. He waited for him to speak, squeezing his hand and offering what strength he could to ease Marty’s fears, let him know that he could trust Garret with the truth. A truth he might not have understood until Garret voiced it for him.

  After a long moment, Marty gave the barest of nods.

  Garret let out a relieved sigh, understanding they had reached not only a culmination, but the start of something beautiful between them. He took Marty’s hand in both of his, smiling at him. Fears had been voiced, questions answered, and promises made, all in that one look.

  Lips trembling and lashes brimming, Marty’s voice cracked. “You must think it’s pathetic—”

  Garret brushed his lips over Marty’s, silencing him. “Shhh. No, I don’t. We all have a role in life. Doesn’t make you less of a man because you need to follow someone else. You just have to pick the right guy, someone you can trust. It takes a braver man than I could ever be, to trust like that.”

  Marty’s gaze lowered and he blinked a few times. He took a shaky breath then raised his head to meet Garret’s eye. Lips pursed with determination, his expression shifted from scared and unsure to blazing confidence so fast it startled Garret.

  Without warning, Marty seized him by the back of his head, and yanked him into a possessive kiss.

  Garret faltered—but only for a second.

  Moaning in pleased surprise, he pressed their bodies together, savoring the rich heat of their exposed chests touching for the first time and overwhelmed by the understanding, the promise each could fulfill for the other.

  Retreating, eyes drunk with fire and lust, Marty begged, “Make love to me, sir…please….”

  Garret had never heard more beautiful words in all his life.

  Pressing Marty onto his back, he took his time undressing his new lover, carefully placing Marty’s clothes inside the basket along with his glasses. With every article of clothing he removed, as each inch of his lean, sculpted body was exposed, Garret’s own hunger rose. Those pretty freckles dusted his entire body like a gentle sprinkling of cocoa Garret couldn’t wait to devour. He’d discovered earlier Marty shaved his sack—something which always turned him on—and seeing him in all his naked glory, ripe for the taking, aroused him more. Fast as lightning, he stripped, loving the open admiration in Marty’s face when he lay beside him.

  Garret trailed his fingers up his torso, and Marty’s hands followed. “Roll on your stomach, baby,” he whispered.

  Marty did so, and Garret groaned at the sight of his round, little ass cheeks glowing in the night. Caressing the pert mounds and kneading his firm flesh, Garret slid over his thighs, straddling him, careful to keep the pressure off his lower back. His dick rested along the crack of Marty’s butt, pointing the way to heaven. The time would come to be buried deep inside, but for the moment, he explored Marty’s rounded shoulders, traced the V-shaped muscles of his lower back. He dragged his thumbs across the edge of his spine, taking care of him, nurturing him. Promising with his touch to watch over him.

  His lover’s groan cut the night air. “You have brilliant fingers.”

  After kneading his shoulders, Garret massaged down his back, leaning forward to trail his tongue along the same path. When he reached the cute little dimples above his perky bottom, he kissed them both. “Wait till I get them in your ass again.”

  Chuckling, Marty twisted to glance back at him. “You Americans are so crass.”

  Garret laughed and gave him a playful swat on his bottom, loving the way it rippled. “And you, laddie,” he said, mimicking his lover’s lilt and making Marty laugh, “arre much too uptight.”

  With that, he spread his round cheeks, revealing the secret little pucker he’d been craving. The darker colored skin, the deep, wonderfully smooth valley beckoned to him. Though he never rimmed guys he’d just met—far too intimate—Garret didn’t hesitate to lick his entire crack.

  “Oh, shite!” Shivering, Marty arched his back and lifted his hips, the involuntary reaction taunting Garret.

  “Like that?”

  “Unh-hunh.” To his utter delight, Marty reached back and spread himself wider, exposing everything. “More.”

  Eager to please his lover, Garret slid off him and took hold of his hips, encouraging him to prop himself onto his forearms. The swell of his ass, balls suspended by the darker, shaved skin of his sa
ck, and the smooth opening—all of it made Garret’s mouth water. He gave Marty another slap, eliciting a chuckle from him. Pulling open his solid cheeks, he buried his face in between and kissed Marty’s hole, teasing his tongue over it before dipping inside to relish the dark flavor. Garret’s head spun from the heady musk of his body, the salty taste of sweat and man.

  He took his time, savoring, probing as deep as he could, and using his lips to pull on the delicate curls swirling there. He held open those fleshy cheeks, kneading them in his urgency to taste that slick, waiting opening. Nothing had ever tasted so good, felt this perfect, as pleasuring his new lover.

  “It’s been so long since anyone did this,” Marty whispered, gripping the back of his thigh and widening his legs.

  Taking hold of the shaft jutting between Marty’s legs, Garret pulled it back slightly. Loving the way goose bumps of pleasure rose across Marty’s flesh and the way he moaned, Garret licked up his length and over his balls, the delicate skin like heaven on his tongue. When Garret laved his hole again, Marty wriggled, pushing onto his mouth and making wonderful little sounds of delight.

  “Oh, Garret.”

  The rolling Rs and the sexual drawl of Marty’s Scottish brogue inflamed his need. “Say my name again.”

  “Garret.”

  Blood and desire shot straight to his groin, and he spread his round cheeks again, tonguing him, reveling in the now familiar taste, wishing his own cum was up there to mingle their essence, their flavors. He’d never fucked bare, but damn, one day he would be that free with Marty—mark him as owned property.

  “Please,” Marty begged, breathless. “Fuck me, please….”

  That goddamn lilt made him wild. He fumbled for the lube and squirted some into his palm. Massaging it in, he slid a finger inside, honing in on the magic spot, teasing a bit before retreating. He stretched Marty with his thumbs, kneading the muscled ring and spitting inside. He Frenched Marty’s ass like he had his mouth, tonguing him deep then kissing him softly, loving the way he’d made him so wet, so red and gaping.

  Squirming, Marty cast a sultry look over his shoulder, hair falling rakishly across his forehead. “Jesus, you know how to touch a fellow.”

  “Your ass is just begging to be touched.” He kissed his cheeks in illustration as he fingered him. Despite the unwelcome taste of the lube, Garret added his tongue back into the fray, unable to get enough. “And licked,”—he tasted the tender crevice again—“and fucked,”—he drove a finger inside—“you name it.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  That cry pushed Garret to the limit of his patience. He donned a condom and arched over the trembling man, his dick nestled against Marty’s sack, the swell of his bottom cradling Garret’s groin. Burying his face in Marty’s neck, he inhaled the crisp scent of his shampoo mingled with the manly sweat still inundating his nostrils and dancing inside his mouth. The sinful combination drove his lust.

  “Fuck me,” Marty demanded, jutting his hips back in command. “Now.”

  Grinning, Garret sat back on his haunches.

  So Marty thought he could give the orders, did he?

  Without warning, he brought his palm down on Marty’s ass.

  “Hey!”

  Before he recovered, Garret did it again.

  Chapter Seven

  “If you don’t like it, tell me,” Garret said.

  “I’ve never….”

  “I know, baby,” he whispered, soothing the sting of those two slaps with a caress. “But you want to, don’t you?”

  “Well….”

  Garret swatted him, not really hard. It hurt, but Martin imagined he could take more…wanted to take more….

  “Answer me, Marty. I will never do anything you don’t agree to first.”

  At that moment, he would do anything Garret asked of him. He needed to please him—obey him.

  Oh, bloody hell, I need it so bad!

  He buried his face in his arm, cheeks in flames, and unable to believe his own daring. “Right, perhaps just one or two….”

  “Only one or two, eh?” The deep rumble of Garret’s laughter ended with the sharp whack of two consecutive smacks.

  Martin faltered beneath him, but his cock remained like granite. Maybe it even got harder. His heart raced so fast he couldn’t be sure of anything—other than he wanted this.

  “I think you can take a bit more.” Then Garret voiced Martin’s deepest, most secret desires. “I think you want to.”

  “Um…right,” he heard himself say. “Whatever you decide, sir.”

  Garret’s strong hand moved up Martin’s back, making him tremble. Not from fear, but sheer, erotic hunger. He paused at Martin’s neck and leaned close, his voice dark and sexy. “It’s not about what I decide, Marty. It’s about what you need.”

  How does he know so much about me?

  Martin began to shake, desire pooling in his middle.

  Garret pressed on him, lowering his upper body into the sand. Martin went, following the instructions to, “…put your arms over your head…cross your hands and hold onto your wrists…good…that’s it, Marty...keep your ass up….”

  Arms where he’d been told to put them, the side of his face pressed into the curves of sand beneath the blanket, Martin waited. His heart raced, not from fear, but suspense. The warm sea air wafted across his naked body, cold on the wet skin of his spread ass, but he stayed still, exposed to Garret and whatever he wanted to do to him.

  “I’m going to spank you ten times, okay, Marty?”

  Overcome with arousal and anticipation, he nodded, throat tight.

  “Say it, babe. Speak up.”

  “Yes, sir, please….”

  Good God, was that whiney voice mine?

  The flat of Garret’s hand came down on him, and Martin hissed.

  One.

  Two. He struck the other cheek.

  By the fourth spank, Martin’s eyes watered, not from pain—not really—but from the intensity of his emotions, how raw and vulnerable he felt. During the cold nights alone at home, he’d dreamt of something this illicit, someone overpowering him, controlling him. But always, in the light of day, when logic reigned supreme and societal expectations told him those desires made him less of a man, he’d dismissed it as fantasy—not a need deep in his soul. But Garret had recognized his most base desires, and such understanding opened Martin’s heart to trust him.

  Completely.

  He gave himself over to Garret, to the pain and ecstasy of the man’s tender control. When the tenth spank came, Martin whimpered, begging, “Please, sir…don’t stop….”

  Delirious and aching, Martin’s cheeks were opened then firm, glorious wetness stabbed at his hole once more, forcing entry, probing the sensitive flesh which remained stretched and ready. The scratch of Garret’s beard against the fire of his cheeks, the earnest way the man ate his ass, reduced Martin to a sobbing, shameless mess, desperate tears of joy streaming down his cheeks. “I canna bear it…. Please, just fuck me!”

  Garret positioned him onto his back, the blanket scratching his sore ass. “I wanna see your face when I make love to you, baby.”

  Martin nodded, throat too tight to speak, and raised his knees, making room for him to slip between. Garret’s face had flushed and his damp lips were swollen. Martin had never seen anything more exquisite than the wanton need and ownership in his green eyes. He ratcheted his inner thighs to Garret’s naked torso, loving how this wonderful man reached out to cradle his head, kissing him as he guided his latex-covered cock home.

  When the first press of cock met his ass, Martin groaned with relief and pushed out, welcoming his lover, arms clinging to those broad shoulders. “You don’t have to be gentle.”

  “I know,” Garret whispered, sliding in all the way with a few slow, firm pushes.

  Martin moaned from the delicious joy of being claimed by this beautiful stranger who he imagined, in some other world—maybe even this one—owned him body and soul.

  A war
m, muscular torso covered him, and an arm circled his neck, enveloping him with amazing tenderness after such a show of force. Pressing Martin’s thigh higher with his other hand, Garret kept him in place, making sweet love to him. Shuddering, he gave in, opening his body so his lover could take what he needed.

  Overcome with ecstasy, feeling that solid cock move inside him, Martin cried out for more. “Harder!”

  Garret laughed, and those fingers dug into the back of his thigh. The grip around his neck tightened, too, and Garret pulled out almost to the tip then slammed back in. The fullness, the pressure felt indescribable, glorious. Total elation.

  The sounds of their ragged cries, the rhythm of wet skin slapping skin, and the gentle splash of waves on the shoreline filled the air. The moon silhouetted Garret’s masculine body towering over him, shielding Martin from harm.

  If only Garret would protect him forever.

  Overcome with a necessity to follow this man—anything to stay by his side—Martin seized his hair, rocking up with each thrust, hissing in magnificent agony as Garret claimed him. Every single nerve in his body centered on the ecstasy streaming through his bloodstream, the beauty of Garret inside him, his body sheltering him. Licking his fingertips, Martin grabbed his own cock and gave it a few fast wanks. That was all it took.

  Pleasure constricted his balls, and his ass clenched down on Garret’s thick cock. Desire pulsed hot from his groin and when his load burst free, cum covering his hand, Martin screamed out his lover’s name. “Garret!”

  Martin rode out the waves of orgasm, stroking his hot, sensitive dick as the last bits of cum continued to spurt, when all of a sudden, Garret pulled out of him. Hissing in shock, Martin watched him wrestle off his condom, and fling it to the side. He inched closer, his fist moving fast over his dick, and aimed it at Martin.

  “Unh-unh, unh!” Face contorted, Garret groaned as a few short jabs brought him to release, too.

  “Aye, yes!” Martin arched into the spray and it landed hot across his chest and abdomen, the gesture, on some level, marking him as owned by this sexy, wonderful man.