Page 13 of Frosty the Farmhand (12 Days of Christmas)

12

HARLAN

I wake, slowly and then all at once.

Reid’s naked body is draped over me, a bite mark covering his shoulder. It’d done nothing to muffle the boom of my voice as I cried out his name.

I’d been buried inside him, his body already limp from his own release, one that had strangled my dick until I saw stars.

He stirs, nuzzling his face into my neck as I draw lazy designs along his spine.

“Don’t tell me you’re a morning person,” I murmur and he shakes with silent laughter, a clear yes, if I ever saw one.

“Only after coffee.” His breath is hot on my skin, his lips trailing over my chest, his tongue flicking at my nipple before disappearing under the covers.

“Or giving blow jobs apparently,” I muse as he licks up the length of my shaft, teasing and tasting, and this time, I let him.

We’d fallen into bed last night, barely managing a quick shower to wash off the day after I’d fucked him the way he wanted.

The way he deserved.

The shower had been his idea, and he never stopped touching me, washing my body and hair, with soapy hands and smooth caresses. Dante and I had never done something so intimate—so sensual—but Reid, as I am learning, is nothing like Dante.

It’s a relief.

And a wakeup call that not everything hinges on the past—that my life can be better than a broken engagement and love that had never been real.

Reid moans, my dick vibrating in his mouth, making my hips buck in response. The colorful moose-patterned quilt moves with him, and it would be comical if it didn’t feel so damn good.

“I shouldn’t be this close already,” I tell him, and if I could see his eyes, I know they’d be sparkling. “You’re so damn good, Reid,”—he hums—“but come up here.”

“What?” he asks, his head peeking out from beneath the covers as his hand strokes me.

“Ride me.”

“And you say I’m the morning person.” I ignore him, instead choosing to touch every available inch of him as he drags himself up my body.

“Depends on the motivation.”

He snorts as he grabs a condom from the nightstand and rolls it down my length. The bottle of lube snaps open, and I grip his cock as he coats mine and then his fingers.

“I love watching you get off,” I tell him as he breeches his hole with one finger and then a second, pumping and stretching himself as I swipe my thumb over the head of his cock.

“Yeah?” he pants before removing his hand and positioning himself over me. “Fuck, you’re big,” he hisses as he sinks down, my dick filling him like he was made for me.

“Your ass is perfect,” I groan as my fingers slide up his thighs, digging into the muscle and anchoring him to me. “So hot and tight. You take me so good.”

From Reid’s chest all the way up to his face is stained a glorious red color, and I smirk as he starts to move.

“Stop it,” he warns, the red deepening. I chuckle, my palm coming down hard on his ass before massaging his cheek and running my other hand shamelessly over his body. “God, look at you.” With one hand braced on my chest, his other explores every dip and curve of my abs. We’d been in such a hurry last night, a trail of clothes still littered the floor from the front door to the bed. But I like this too, the slow perusal allowing for all the things we missed the first time. “My abs have never looked this good.”

His voice is both resigned and a little wistful, but I don’t want him thinking he’s anything other than perfection.

Because he’s perfect.

Perfect for me.

I ignore the thought, instead palming his ass cheeks and squeezing them together, increasing the pressure and tightness around my cock.

He moans and shudders as he blinks down at me.

“Do it again,” he pleads and I do.

“I like your body.” I squeeze again as he sinks down, his breath coming in pants and his eyes hooded. “See how good this ass fits in my hands? The way I gripped your hips last night as I took you from behind? Perfection.”

Exactly the way a man should be.

“Harlan, you need to fuck me. I can’t?—”

His words die off as I piston up into him, gripping and thrusting as he digs his nails into my chest and tries desperately to hang on. He curses and writhes on top of me, his lips parting as he comes all over my stomach, making me follow soon after.

“Next time,” I say as he collapses on top of me, uncaring about the sticky mess now coating both of us, “I’m gonna make you tell me exactly what you want.”

“That sounds horrible. I like it better when you just say filthy things and read my mind.”

He mutters the sentiment against my chest, but I hear it all the same.

“Let’s go shower so I can feed you.” I snicker and he lifts up just enough to meet my gaze.

“Already? Hell, you’re still inside me.” I can’t tell if he’s kidding but I laugh, my palm spanking him and making him yelp.

“Get up, smart-ass.” Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I add, “Breakfast. I want to feed you breakfast.”

“Oh.” He buries his face in my neck and groans. My smile is wide even though he can’t see it, and I wrap my arms around him and just hold him because I can.

Because right now, he’s mine.