Page 17 of Jingle Bell Flock
I positioned myself at his entrance, wanting to see his face, wanting to watch his eyes as I slid inside him.
But at the last second, Jeremy twisted away, flipping onto his stomach and bracing himself on his forearms.
My chest tightened. He couldn’t face me.Wouldn’tface me.
“Like this,” he growled, glancing over his shoulder. “And don't you dare be gentle.”
I nodded, my throat dry. The covers rustled as I moved closer, one hand steadying his hip where a faded scar curved around the bone. I pressed my cock against his hole, feeling him tense.
“Breathe,” I whispered.
He let out a long, slow exhale, his shoulders dropping as I eased forward, inch by incredible inch, as Jeremy’s body yielded to me. He groaned loudly, his hands fisting the covers, his body taut as a bowstring.
I slid in deeper, Jeremy’s body enveloping me completely. I leaned down, pressing a careful kiss to his shoulder blade, feeling the shiver that ran through him.
I began to move then, my hips pulling back slowly before snapping forward again. I set a steady rhythm, my body fucking into his. My hands roamed over his back, his sides, his hips. He’d urged me not to be gentle, but I couldn’t stop myself from leaning down to drop a line of kisses along his spine.
“Fuck me already,” Jeremy rasped, his voice rough as gravel as he braced his hands on the headboard and pushed back against me.
I drove into him harder, my hips snapping forward with more force.
I reached around, wrapping my slick hand around his cock, stroking him in rhythm with my thrusts, his body tensing as I brought him to the edge. His back arched, his muscles bunching. A strangled cry was ripped from his throat as his ass clenched around me, desperation evident in every garbled plea for more.
I leaned down, my chest flattening against his back, my lips brushing against his ear. “Let go," I whispered, trying to mask the emotion in my voice. “Let go for me.”
His head shook violently. “Not yet,” he grunted. “Not … fucking … yet.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. I understood his need to hold on, to make this last. If this was the only time I was going to get to do this with him, I needed it to last, too.
I slowed my pace, trading urgency for tenderness, my hands stroking him gently. I peppered kisses along his shoulder blade,the nape of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, and feeling him soften beneath my lips.
Heat pooled in my belly, a burn that threatened to spill over any second. Every nerve ending buzzed, but I held back, wanting to prolong this—wanting to stay connected to Jeremy for as long as he’d let me.
But Jeremy had other ideas—he pushed back against me, fucking himself on my cock with loud, guttural grunts.
My control snapped.
“That’s it,” I urged, working my hand faster. “Take what you need.”
“Harrison," he groaned, and I felt the spasm roll through his body. "Fuck, I’m gonna …” His ass clamped down around my cock as he convulsed beneath me, hot jets of cum spurting into my palm.
It was enough to send me tumbling over the edge after him.
I thrust deep one final time, sparks erupting behind my eyelids as my orgasm barreled through me and I emptied into him.
I collapsed onto Jeremy’s back, my body slick with sweat, both of us gasping for air. After a moment, I eased out carefully and rolled onto my side, pulling Jeremy with me and praying he wouldn’t fight it.
We lay together in silence, chests rising and falling in unison, the glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows on the frost-streaked window. Outside, the wind howled against the windowpane.
I wanted to say something profound, to put into words the emotions swirling inside me. But I knew that would only break the spell, would only serve to remind us of the reality waiting for us outside this room once the storm blew over and he could trudge back home through the snow.
So I stayed silent, my body wrapped around his, memorizing the feel of him, the scent of him, the sounds he made. The memory of tonight would have to last me a lifetime.
Jeremy’s breathing gradually slowed, the tension in his shoulders melting away with each exhale. The permanent crease between his brows relaxed until he looked eighteen again, free of anger and regret.
I braced for the moment he’d pull away. Instead, he shifted closer, curling one muscular leg over mine and nestling his face against my neck. His beard grazed my collarbone as he burrowed deeper into my side, fitting himself against me like he belonged there.
“I missed you, Harry,” he murmured, his voice already thick with approaching sleep. “So fucking much.”
