Page 8 of A Winter Romance
As it was, Aryn didn’t know what to do. He had no idea if Sero was at this moment dreaming about some pretty woman from his village. Or, preferably, if Sero was dreaming of him.
Sero’s arm moved, hand drifting until it rested on Aryn’s stomach, his palm rough. Aryn wondered why a baker’s hand would be so calloused. Then his thoughts turned to how those roughened hands would feel caressing his body, running over his chest and his nipples, stroking his cock.
Arousal pulsed through his body. He tried not to squirm in Sero’s loose embrace. He failed. Sero’s hand tightened on Aryn’s stomach. Sero thrust against Aryn, cock pressing firmly against his arse.
Aryn froze.
Is he still asleep?
He held his breath, waiting.
Behind him, Sero’s breathing continued, steady and deep. He didn’t stir. Still asleep, then. Apparently, he just rubbed his dick against people’s arses when he slept.
What did Sero’s cock look like? Would it be veiny? Would the head be flushed? Would it be long? Slender? Thick? It was hard to tell when it was pressed against his clothed arse.
Unable to stop himself, he dropped a hand and squeezed himself through his undershorts, biting back a moan. The situation felt absurd. They were both hard. Both practically naked. It seemed almost perfect.
Almost.
Unfortunately, the only reason he was in this situation was because Sero had saved him and there was only one bed. Not because Sero actually wanted him.
Whilst being into men was completely acceptable in Bordertown, he wasn’t so certain about how acceptable it was in a tiny village in the mountain. Although, he had a vague memory that nymphs, in general, were more open-minded about these sorts of things, but Sero was half-human. So how did that come into play? All these musings did not help him in his current predicament.
Sero rubbed his cock against Aryn, and again Aryn tried not to cry out in frustration.
What am I meant to do?
He didn’t even know if Sero liked him as an individual or was just kind enough not to let him freeze to death. To be honest, Sero seemed kind of annoyed with him. Even if he was interested in men, he probably thought Aryn too pathetic to be sexually appealing.
Warm breath brushed against his earlobe, and the sensation made his cock throb painfully beneath his hand. He squeezed the thickened length and pressed his lips firmly together, trying to stop any noise from escaping. Again, Sero rocked forward, hard cock pushing against him.
Is he trying to torture me?
If Sero weren’t pressed against his back, and if the bed were a bit wider, he might be able to take himself in hand and sort himself out without bothering Sero. But he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to manage that. He could get up, take himself somewhere private. But the only place private was out in the snow. He glanced towards the entrance of the cave. Darkness lay outside.
No, rather stay here and suffer.
Perhaps he could get up, sit along the wall of the cave, and stroke himself. But what if Sero woke and saw him? He pictured it, Sero’s horror when he saw Aryn sitting on the dirty cave floor, curled over on himself, hand furiously moving over his cock as he tried to find release. He imagined Sero’s wide eyes, his jaw dropping in shock. Then outrage, right before he throttled Aryn and cast him out into the snow to die.
But what if he wasn’t horrified and shocked? What if his silver eyes filled with lust as he threw Aryn into his bed, pressed him down into the furs, and filled him with his hard member?
His arsehole clenched, yearning to be filled.
He’d never been so sexually frustrated in his entire life. And Aryn could do with a good, hard dicking. It had been a long time for him. Months. Even before Sasha and he had ended, the sex had been tepid at best. Perfunctory and quick. No passion. Completely unsatisfying.
In an attempt to bring some heat into the bedchamber, Aryn had told Sasha about some of his secret fantasies. Sasha had been shocked. As a result, their sex life had become practically non-existent in the last few months of their relationship. He now wondered if Sasha and Jarne had been seeing each other long before Sasha had left him.
A hard fuck would make him forget all about them both. In fact, being fucked in a cave by a handsome almost stranger definitely fit with his fantasies. And Sero was beyond handsome, with his stunning eyes, and his strangely rough hands. He pictured Sero holding Aryn’s arse cheeks open, pounding into him. It was so easy to picture, especially with Sero’s cock hot and pulsing against his arse.
Sero pushed his cock against Aryn again, this time more insistently.
Then did it again.
Was Sero dreaming? If so, what was he dreaming about? Did he dream of fucking Aryn, cock sliding in and out of his hole? Was he dreaming of Aryn on his knees, swallowing his cock, taking it deep into his throat as Sero clutched at his hair?
Without meaning to, Aryn stroked his hard cock, just enough to give himself some satisfaction. He stroked again, fighting the urge to push back against Sero. He groaned aloud, then pulled his hand away from his cock, horrified that he had made a sound.
He held his breath.
