Page 35 of Snow Storm

To sink inside him and listen to him whimper and beg.

Claude shuddered, then made his way to the sink and dropped their dishes into the soapy water. He knew he was dragging this out, and not just for the sake of anticipation. He was nervous about not being able to perform. About not lasting long enough. Not beinggoodenough.

Harley had been through too much, and he deserved at least one night where he lost himself to ecstasy. Claude didn’t trust he could be the man to do it. But he was selfish…and just lonely enough that he wasn’t going to back down. He wanted this for himself too.

Turning away, he allowed himself several deep breaths, then used his hand on the wall to keep his legs steady as he made his way to the bedroom. The hall was dark, and the bedroom was even darker. The door was open, but Harley hadn’t turned on any of the lights.

His fingers twitched, debating if he should turn the ceiling lamp on, but in the end, he decided against it. He could see the shadowy lump on the bed that was Harley. He could hear hisunsteady breathing and the sound his body made as he shifted against the duvet.

There was a dark pile near the foot of the bed—his clothes, Claude imagined. His dick got a little harder at that. He finally reached the bathroom and flicked on the light, then turned to face the room.

“Are you warm enough?”

Harley let out a tense laugh. “No.”

“Do you want to crawl under the covers?”

“I’d rather be under you.”

Claude sucked in a breath. There were moments Harley was exactly the man Claude expected him to be. And then there were moments he was wildly surprising. Claude adored both, but right now, he wanted to be surprised.

“That can be arranged.” Claude made his way to the bed with careful steps. His legs were still weaker than usual, but they held him as he stood beside the edge of the mattress and looked down. Now, with the dim light, Claude got a full view of what was waiting for him.

Harley was on his back, legs flat and spread, his cock thick and stretched up toward his stomach. His body was a wide expanse of olive skin, little moles and freckles decorating him from his throat down to his rib cage.

His stomach was soft, hips even softer, thighs thick and shapely with the tension he was holding in his body. Claude reached down and ran his fingertips over the thick hair curling over the tops of his legs. “Breathe for me, mon ange.”

“Ange. Is that…”

“Angel,” Claude said. “My angel.”

Harley’s entire body moved with a single shiver, starting at his feet, ending at his chin. He licked his lips, then let out a slow exhale. His thighs didn’t relax completely, but his stomach went a little softer.

It was progress.

Claude began to unbutton his shirt as he watched Harley watch him. His fingers were nimble and quick, and it didn’t take long before he was there with his chest exposed and his hands on the zipper of his pants.

“Keep going,” Harley begged roughly.

Claude did. He carefully stepped out of his trousers, tossing them to the side. His cock stood proudly at attention, so he gripped it hard and gave it a stroke. It didn’t feel like it used to. It was dull and muted, but the way Harley’s face transformed with pure, raw need was enough.

“You like what you see?”

“You’re joking, right? Whowouldn’tlike you?”

The question was so honest it almost hurt. Claude could name more than one person who’d turned away from him. His grey hair, the fact that his legs would always be thin and slightly atrophied, the way his pecs were starting to sag with age…the fact that he so rarely smiled. Though that last one seemed like it didn’t apply whenever Harley was around him.

That was…something.

Claude bit his lower lip, then pressed his hands to the mattress and carefully crawled beside his would-be lover. He had no idea how this was going to go. Claude knew what he was capable of, but this was the first time in years he’d been allowed to put it into practice.

Balancing on his knees, he lifted one hand and pressed his palm to Harley’s chest. He could feel his heart racing, his breath hitching, the tiny vibrations in his skin as he kept himself from trembling.

Claude dragged his hand down low, lower, just not quite to the place that he knew Harley wanted to be touched. “Ah. Look at you.”

“I feel like a mess,” Harley said quietly, tone strained.

Claude smiled and shook his head. “If this is a mess, I’m curious to see how much more beautiful you’d be when you’re put together.”

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