Page 144 of Snowed In

But I don’t do it, don’t even suggest it, just let him sink into me as I tug on those thick strands and listen as he lets out small moans of appreciation.

He doesn’t sleep and neither do I; the wind and ice whipping against the window, rattling it noisily. It keeps us awake, the two of us warm between the sheets, our bodies pressed against each other. Our own little cocoon.

But eventually, my hands still, cupping his head against me, and he sighs, his breathing evening out. I can feel every part of him against me, the way his pajamas scratch my legs, the way his hard cock is pressed against mine, the tickle of his hair against my cheek.

“You asleep?” I whisper, and he shakes his head.

“No. You?”

“Obviously not.” I wait a minute and then ask, “Why can’t you sleep?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but eventually tucks his face further into me and murmurs, “Don’t wanna say.”

“Why not?” I ask, my voice taking on a teasing note.

“Just…don’t wanna.”

I huff a small laugh and then tug on his hair roughly, forcing his head up slightly and watching as his eyes meet mine.

“I don’t like being kept in the dark. I fucking hate it, Christian.”

He blinks at me, his tongue peeking out and wetting his lips.

“I know, it’s just…” He swallows, and then his gaze dips to my mouth.

“What?” I ask, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. “What is it? Say it.”

He seems to hold his breath and then his words fall from his lips, hitting me like a train going full speed down the tracks.

“I want you to kiss me,” he whispers, and I can see his blushing cheeks even in the dark.

“The fuck?” I manage to reply, the sound in my ears almost thunderous.

“Yeah.”

“How about you take what you fucking want, Christian, instead of asking for permission?”

He freezes, thinking it over and it feels like an eternity, timeskidding to a halt. And then his head lowers, his lips brushing against mine. It’s nothing more than a breeze, a wisp of skin on skin, and then he pulls back, almost panting.

“That all you got?” I rasp.

He looks perplexed, confused. Turned on. “You want more?”

“Fucking kiss me, you fucker,” I say, and then grab his head and smash my lips to his. He grunts as our mouths meet and I thrust my tongue forward, pushing through his lips and brushing against his teeth.

He gasps, his cock twitching against mine, his breathing now a series of short, rapid pants. I push my tongue against his, letting my piercing drag against the slick muscle, and he moans lowly, his body writhing on mine.

My free hand moves down his back and grabs his ass, thrusting him forward, our cocks dragging against each other in a tantalizing dance.

I tilt my head slightly and continue to suck on his tongue, forcing my own into every crevice of his mouth, feeling my dick leak with each exhaled moan he gives. He’s intoxicating. Completely perfect. When he finally pulls away, his lips swollen and spit slick, he looks almost dazed.

“Wren,” he says, and my name on his lips is my undoing.

I lean up and capture his mouth with mine once more, a way of shutting him up, telling him I want this. I want more of it. With him. I don’t hate him at all. I just wanted what I couldn’t have.

But I have it. Right now. I fucking have it.

So I’m going to take it.

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