Page 13 of A Kiss For The Holidays

“Dalt,” he rasps, his eyes are sleepy but they’re swimming with the same need I feel roaring in my blood.

“It’s okay, love, don’t stop. I’ve got you.” He hesitates for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line, so I move us together, showing him I’m all good with whatever this is and he nuzzles his face to my pecs. Asher’s lips latch onto my nipple and I turn into a man possessed. Ripping down my boxers, I free my aching cock then reach for the waistband of his panties.

Asher's hand comes between us and halts my movements. “You don’t have to do this,” he says against my chest.

“Oh, fuck, love, but I want to. So fucking badly. Let me please.” Slowly, I move his hand out the way then push down the fabric until his hot, hard, cock juts against mine.

“God, you’re so hard, Asher. For me?” I take his cock into my hand and it’s soaking. Not just a dab of precum, but completely dripping.

“Always for you, Dalton, always. Fuuuck,” he moans as I use his precum to coat him and start moving my hand up and down his shaft. His lips find my pert nipple again and he sucks hard, sending bolts of pain straight to my groin. It’s at this point that my mind focuses on exactly what’s happening - I have my best friend's dick in my hand. A moment passes and while I expect to start panicking, all I can think about is how good I feel and how his little whimpers tell me he feels the same.

I have no experience with dicks other than my own - I haven’t even watched gay porn - but I know what I like, and I can imagine what would make this moment evenbetter. Lining my erection up against Asher’s, I wrap my hand around us both. His dick is smaller and thinner than mine, so they fit perfectly together wrapped in my palm.

“Holy shit, that feels amazing,” Asher moans, pulling away from tormenting my now red nipple, so he can look down between us. He continues to leak copious amounts of precum and the sight of the wetness glistening over the two of us has me riding a wave very close to the edge of release. Moving my hand faster, I push Asher onto his back and continue to fuck the two of us with my fist.

His pale skin shines in the firelight, tiny freckles mapping trails over his body. I lean down and lick a stripe across his collarbone, loving the saltiness on my tongue. Asher is smaller than I am, but while I may loom over him now, he holds all the power over me. He always has.

“I’m going to come, please don’t stop,” he cries out and I move faster, nibbling at the soft flesh at the side of his neck as he thrusts his hips upwards to match my movements. He cries out as he comes, the warm liquid pooling over my fist and onto my cock. I rear up onto my knees and work my fist harder, throwing my head back and groaning as I topple over the edge, releasing thick ropes of cum all over Asher’s creamy, pale skin.

The room is silent - save for our heavy breathing - as my eyes meet Asher’s. His cheeks are rosy, whether from the heat of the fire or the orgasm, I can’t be sure. When he turns away and moves to cover his chest, I know that whatever just transpired is over now. Asher pulls the sheet over himself, covering his beautiful body, then rolls off the bed and awkwardly, with the blanket pooling around his feet, stands.

“I’m so sorry, Dalton. I never meant for that to happen.” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. “I feel like I pushed this on you. Fuck!” Asher shouts and storms out the room, slamming the bathroom door behind him, not giving me a chance to tell him that it was the single most enjoyable moment of my life.

Chapter 11

Asher

What the actual fuck?

This is exactly the reason I stopped sharing a bed with Dalton when I first realised I was attracted to him. We’re drawn to each other even when we’re asleep and I have no way of controlling my traitorous dick when I’m not consciously keeping it under control. I have sprung countless boners around him and always,always, kept them hidden. Well not this time!

Fuck.

I stand in the dark, cold bathroom, staring at the shadow of myself in the mirror, wondering if I can sit tight in here until help arrives. Dalton knocking on the door swiftly throws that plan out the window. The cold air making my nose tingle is another indication that I will have to leave the confines of this bathroom soon.

“Ash, come out. Everything is okay, I promise. The sun’s not even up yet, let’s get some more sleep.”

Dalton’s cum drying on my skin, is starting to itch, and my heart skips a beat as I replay the last half an hour. Embarrassment aside, it was everything I had dreamed of yet was too afraid to hope for. Where we go from here, who the fuck knows.

He knocks again, louder this time, and I huff then wrap the blanket tighter around myself before exiting the bathroom. Dalton comes up to me and pulls me into a hug, kissing the top of my head then leads me over to the mattress and all but manhandles me down onto it. With his arm over me, he reaches for my pinky and links up together.I stare at the fire, which he’s built again and watch as the flames dance together. Sleep is as far away from me as England is from our current location.

“Your thinking is too loud, it’s keeping me awake. Sleep and we’ll talk about it later.” This man, he knows me so well he can even read my silence.

The dog’s yapping wakes us hours later. The sky is still grey, snow falling steadily but the wind has died down. Dalton sits up and leans his back against the sofa, reaching for his phone.

“Any signal?” I ask, pulling on my tee. I hate that he saw me topless, I’m self-conscious of how I look. Small, hairless and pale, with freckles dotting my skin. And especially next to Dalton’s tanned, ripped abs and toned stomach. Throw in the fact that I leak excessive amounts of precum when I’m turned on and well, Dalton has now seen two parts of me that I prefer to keep hidden. Make that three if you count that fact that I’d rather he didn’t know I’m in love with him.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Looks like we’ll be here a little longer.” His stomach growls in protest and I can’t help but laugh at the entire situation.

“Let’s see what we can rustle up in the kitchen without any electricity,” I say, standing and leading the way, Beate close on my heels and Dalton not far behind her.

Dalton digs through the cupboards while I bring out two bowls and stare at the cans and packets of food I left on the counter the night before. Baked beans, soup, two packets of ramen, tinned tomatoes, a jar of sausages, a tin of peaches, tuna, olives, flour, salt, popcorn kernels, oats and a tub of honey - an array of food forgotten by previous guests.

“If you can find some form of heat source, we can have porridge for breakfast. Otherwise, I’m afraid it’s baked beans and these strange looking sausages floating in brine.” I hold the jar up to him and he scrunches his nose then returns to his searching, going to the small supply cupboard near the back door. I feed the second-to-last tin of tuna to the dog, who eats it in one go then promptly sits with an expectant look on her face.

“Yes!” Dalton shouts, pulling out a rather rusty looking camping stove and gas bottle. “We’re in luck, well only if there’s gas in here.” He places it on the kitchen counter then produces the matches from the fireplace and tries lighting the stove.With bated breath I wait as Dalton fumbles with the matches until awhooshsounds and the flame ignites. Not knowing how long we have until the gas runs out, I hurry to make a pot of porridge.

Adding plenty of water, I grimace at the fact that we have no milk and porridge without milk is just… wet oats. Stirring the pot, I'm hit with a memory of doing something similar on a little gas stove when we were in our early teens.

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