Page 43 of Make You Mine This Christmas
His eyes open and land right on my cock before he swallows hard. “Okay, yes, third finger. But make it quick.”
I kiss the inside of his knee. “I love how you’re begging for my dick, but I won’t hurt you. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” I push a third finger in. After a few thrusts, Austin’s meeting my hand with his hips. Maybe he really is ready for me.
I pull my hand out and set Austin’s feet on the bed to give his legs a break. “I got tested since the last time I was with someone, but I can use a condom if you want.”
Austin reaches for his bedside table and pulls out a foil packet. “I’ll go get tested tomorrow. I always wear a condom, but to be safe for now.” He hands the condom to me and watches as I roll the silicone down my length and pour lube into my palm. His strokes to his cock match the strokes I use to spread the lube over the silicone, a lazy smile on his face.
Once I’m slick for him, I walk my knees forward a bit and he grabs his legs again without me asking. The head of my cock rests against his opening and our eyes meet.
“Are you ready?” I ask, holding still.
“Ready,” he responds. My focus shifts to where he’s swallowing me in, bit by bit. “So tight,” I murmur, checking to be sure he’s doing okay. His eyes are on my face.
“So full,” he answers, and a second later, I bottom out, my pelvis meeting his ass. I lean over his body to kiss him, unable to resist while I give him time to adjust.
Rising up a few inches, I find his gaze waiting for mine. I move my hips, pulling out a few inches, before pushing slowly back in. The slow slide repeats until Austin reaches up and tangles his hand in my hair, pulling my mouth back to his. “More,” he says, the word almost lost as he tangles his tongue with mine, giving me everything he’s got. I start thrusting faster and harder, his hips finding the pace and matching me.
I adjust the angle of my body slightly and know I’ve found my goal when Austin pulls his mouth from mine. With his head thrown back, he groans long and loud. “Right. There.” Happy to oblige, I pick up the pace, slamming into him hard enough the headboard joins into the rhythm of skin meeting skin, our heavy breaths and groans. The soundtrack of my wet dreams.
Austin’s arm snakes between us and I feel the knuckles of his hand moving up and down his cock against my stomach. “Almost there,” he says, his voice breathless. “Get there too.”
All of a sudden, I’m right at the edge, teetering on beating him. I put the last bit I have into those final thrusts and feel his muscles squeeze me like a vice while the rest of his body tightens and he spills onto his stomach. My hips stutter before I’m emptying into the condom. My arms give out, and I feel the warm wetness of his release between us. His legs cross over the back of my calves while his arms tighten across my back. I shift, trying to roll to the side, but he tightens his hold, not letting me. “Feels good. Like my own Brody-scented weighted blanket.” He talks into my neck, and I feel the exhale of his laughter as I laugh too.
After a moment, I pull up to look in his eyes, and the contentment I find there spreads through me like the warmth of a bath I would love to sink into every fucking day. I take his lips in a gentle kiss before finding the strength to push myself up slightly. He lets me go this time, and I slowly pull out, not missing the wince he tries to hide. “Let me go get something to clean us up.” I dispose of the condom and walk naked to the bathroom. I wet a cloth and leave the faucet running while I wipe the cum from my stomach and chest hair before it dries. Once the water warms, I run the water over it, and walk quickly back to Austin before it cools.
He’s in the exact position I left him, with his eyes closed. He blinks as I use the wash cloth where he’s a little pink from my intrusion. Once I’ve tended to him thoroughly there, I wipe up his stomach and chest. “It helps you’re not furry like me,” I say, passing over his smooth skin. He reaches for me, and I go easily, tossing the cloth onto the floor to be dealt with later. His fingers run through the hair on my chest, trailing over my stomach and making the return path.
“I dunno, I’m a fan of furry Brody. Though I guess you could do this yourself if you wanted.”
“It could never feel as good as you touching me,” I respond, pressing my forehead to his. “Good?” I ask, referring to more of him than the fingers tracing my body.
“Good,” he says nodding, his eyes closing again.
I position us so his head rests in the crook of my neck, an arm around his back, curling him into my body. He comes willingly and tangles his legs with mine, erasing the few inches he has on me. His fingers continue their trail, slowing as his breathing evens out and then stopping right over my heart. Like his body knows, even in his sleep he belongs there, because that organ belongs to him. Sometimes, I think it never stopped. I cover his hand with mine and follow him into sleep.
Chapter 21
Austin
Despite the intense physical activities of last night, I’m awake with the sun this morning. I slide out from under Brody’s arm slung across my waist, hoping slow movements will let him sleep. He rolls over, but burrows deeper into his pillow, his breathing still even and deep.
I wince slightly as I get dressed. Brody took good care of me last night, but there’s little doubt I’ll have reminders of how we spent our evening. No complaints here.
Ten minutes later, I’ve freshened up in the bathroom and left a note for Brody on the dining room table. The clinic opens at seven, and I need to go visit my mom today. She’s up before the birds every morning, so I’ll grab some pastries from the coffee shop next door and head over there afterward. That should leave most of the day for whatever Brody has in mind—finally decorating the tree we bought last week and lying horizontal on the couch are my votes.
I’m in and out at the clinic and should have results in under forty-eight hours. The idea of nothing between us as Brody slides into me makes me chub up a bit when I’m in line for our coffees. All my attention goes to reading the specials board, needing a different train of thought before I get to my mom’s.
Two coffees and two bags of pastries later, and I’m off to the house I grew up in on the edge of Winterberry Glen. I try to decide which croissant Brody will like more as I cross through the familiar streets, making it to the other side of our small town in under ten minutes, even hitting a few red lights along the way.
I pull into the driveway behind my mom’s CR-V and cut the engine. There are a few cars parked in front of the house along the street. While I walk to the front door, I wonder if she’s hosting a Zumba class in her living room again, or if Mrs. Benson across the street has family visiting.
The doorbell rings, and I look around the front of the house while I wait for her to answer. I fixed the steps before the first snow earlier this winter, and they seem to be holding up all right. The light blue siding we replaced a few years back could probably use a good power washing once the weather warms up. I’m straightening the wreath on her front door, wondering what’s taking so long, when the door swings inward and the wreath comes off the hook in my hand.
“Austin!” my mom greets me, a little flushed. “I wasn’t expecting you this early today. Come in, get out of the cold.” I hang the wreath back where it belongs, still a little crooked, and step into the hug my mom has waiting for me.
“Yeah, I woke up early, and thought I’d get a start on the day. Plus, I brought pastries.” I hold up the bag and coffee holder in my hands. A noise from the kitchen draws my attention, and I look over to see my mom’s three best friends clearing up a stack of papers from the table.
“Oh, hi, ladies. I have enough to share if you’re interested? Wanted to be sure we had choices.” Doris, who my mom has known since high school, opens her mouth to respond, then looks behind me and shuts it firmly. “No, no, we won’t impose. We were just leaving.” Betsy and Laurel each squeeze my arm on their way out the door behind Doris, with promises to call my mom later.
