Seasons Greetings

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by Chrissy Munder


  “You want this, don’t you?” Ian whispered again. He worked the seam deeper between Russ’s cheeks, moving in small, almost delicate circles until Russ wanted to rip his pants out of the way and let those fingers slide against his skin and slip inside. “You want me?”

  “What do you think?” Russ muttered helplessly, searching for Ian’s lips and another heated kiss.

  “Tell me what you want, Russ.” Ian’s hand moved back up to Russ’s spine, and Russ sighed with pleasure when Ian finally pushed underneath Russ’s shirt and rubbed the soft skin spot above his tailbone. “Ask me for it.”

  Russ thought he would explode from the sound of Ian’s voice; hot and ohsodirty right next to his ear. “Anything. Everything. I don’t care.” His voice sounded raw and needy, and Russ couldn’t believe Ian had him so worked up with only a few kisses and touches.

  The room spun; Russ felt dizzy and disorientated. Then his face pushed against the cushions and Ian pressed close behind him. He moaned when Ian pulled his pants and briefs down to his knees, all the while muttering wonderfully filthy things into Russ’s ear. The words didn’t matter, only the want and need that made everything sharp and clear enough for Russ to understand the meaning behind Ian’s rough fumbles.

  “Oh yeah.” Russ’s hips flexed instinctively up and back as he took the tube of hand lotion Ian must have borrowed along with Lacey’s stapler and opened the bottle. He groaned as he squeezed out the creamy fluid, and his stomach fluttered as he watched it cover Ian’s shaking fingers. Russ bit his lower lip, bracing himself on the couch, spreading his thighs wide against the tension of his pants caught beneath his knees.

  There was a second when Russ knew how he must look: the contradiction between his submissive position and the latent power visible in the broad muscles of his back and shoulders. He wondered if Ian saw it, if he got off on the contrast, and then there was no more time and no more thought. There was only Ian’s fingers trembling against him before two pressed deep without further hesitation, the sweet sting, and the burning stretch, and then the needy sounds the two of them made as they groaned.

  Russ dropped his head down beneath his shoulders, his mouth open and his breath harsh as he pushed back onto Ian’s fingers. Too soon, but he couldn’t stop. He fucked himself slowly, relishing the pressure and the building sensation of pleasure, the drag and slide until everything inside him relaxed.

  He savored the sharp intake of breath as Ian watched him rock back and forth. Ian moaned each time Russ pushed against him and leaned down to lick at the light sheen of sweat coating Russ’s skin.

  “You should see how you look.” Ian bit the words out across the sharp indentations of Russ’s spine. His mouth was hot and wet as he sucked dark splotches to the surface. “The way you’re opening yourself up for me—”

  Russ grunted at Ian’s shudder. Before Russ managed an answer, a way to share the impact of Ian’s verbal seduction, his coherency vanished with the addition of a third finger, and nothing Russ could do or say made any sense. All he knew was the thrust and circle of his hips until the grip of Ian’s other hand forced him to stop.

  “Enough. God, Russ. I can’t wait.”

  Damn, but Ian was good at this. Russ lost track of time, but Ian’s pants were down now as well and their skin clung, cemented together with damp sweat. Russ ached at the emptiness when Ian’s fingers disappeared, but before Russ could mourn the loss, the heavy weight of Ian’s body draped over him.

  Russ reached back to stroke Ian’s hip. His want was fueled by the tension under the taut skin, the heat from Ian’s burning flesh melted into his, and Ian’s hands gripped at his hips roughly. The air surrounding them became charged with electricity, sparking as Russ heard the crinkle of the small packet and then finally knew the smooth, hard thrust of Ian’s cock between his thighs and the insistent press against where he’d stretched himself slick and open.

  Ian hovered for a breathless second, body motionless except for his hands. They traveled greedily over Russ’s arms, caressing and squeezing the firm muscle until Russ shivered and moaned again. He shoved his face into the couch and spread his legs wider in welcome.

  “So good.” Ian gritted out against Russ’s neck. “It’s going to be so damn good.” With those words the wait was over, and Ian slowly rocked his hips forward. Small, tiny pulses and Ian lost himself and pushed deep at the same time Russ gave up waiting and pressed back in demand.

  Russ couldn’t help but tremble. He panted, breathless as he rode the sensation of being stretched around Ian and Ian, hot and hard and so alive inside him. It was overwhelmingly intimate, and he wanted to run and hide away before he broke into a million pieces. But Ian knew, and Ian wouldn’t let him hide. Instead Ian pulled him up and back, settling Russ down on his cock, driving deeper as his hands stroked over Russ’s neck and chest, soothing and arousing at the same time.

  “Come on,” Ian breathed. His teeth caught the curve of Russ’s ear, guttural murmurs lost in the side of Russ’s neck. His fingers dug deep into Russ’s skin, splayed out against his belly, and held him firm as they rocked together. Sweat and tension built until Ian hit that perfect spot, and Russ had no choice but to let everything go.

  “Yes,” Russ managed to grate, his voice cracked and broken by the rush of sensation. “Oh God, yes.”

  Russ’s focus narrowed around Ian. The sharp thrusts of Ian’s hips. The width of Ian’s thick cock inside him. Ian’s lips biting against his neck. Ian’s mouth incoherently whispering dirty, beautiful things, and Ian’s heartbeat thudding into Russ’s back. Without even trying, Ian Fiorillo had become Russ’s entire world.

  Ian reached down and wrapped his lotion-slick fingers around Russ’s aching cock, and that was all it took.

  When he opened his eyes, Ian was slumped against him, his tongue tracing a bite mark Russ didn’t even know he’d received. Ian’s breath sounded rougher and heavier than it ever had after a run, and Russ was too damn relaxed to care that he was twisted up in the garland of holly they’d tried to hang.

  Ian rested his check against Russ’s shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to the moist skin as he carefully slid out of Russ’s body. Russ murmured his displeasure, and then Ian was back, his fingers tracing incomprehensible patterns into Russ’s hip as he took a deep, steadying breath. “You okay?”

  “God, yes,” Russ managed to repeat with a soft laugh. Ian snuggled up behind him, and their chests rose and fell in unison while Ian recovered. Russ didn’t mind; he wanted to stay right where they were without moving. “I’m great. Better than great. Hell, I’m never going to be able to look at this couch the same.”

  Russ could feel the vibrations in his chest when Ian laughed. “You certainly decorated it. Probably not what Lacey and Sandy had in mind.” Ian pulled at the string of garland wrapped around Russ’s ankle. “So have I changed your mind?” Ian asked, hesitant for the first time that evening.

  “About Christmas in Florida?” Russ shrugged. “I think you’ll have to try a little harder.” He twisted, stroking his hand against the side of Ian’s face and watched as Ian closed his eyes with relief and pressed a kiss into his palm. “About you? Absolutely.”

  “In that case….” Ian muscled Russ around to face him and drew him closer for another slow and sweet kiss. “How about I show you the Florida version of a snowball fight?”

  Got Mistletoe Madness?

  The Dreamspinner Press 2009 Advent Calendar is available at http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

  About the Author

  The joke in Chrissy Munder’s family is that she was born with a book in her hand. Even now, you’ll never find her without a book or seven scattered about. Forced to become a practicing realist in an effort to combat her tendency to dream, her many years of travel and a diverse assortment of careers have taken her across most of the United States and shown her that there are two things you can never have enough of: love and laughter.

  Visit her web site at http://www.chrissymunder.com/ and her blo
g at http://chrissymunder.livejournal.com/.

  Copyright

  Season’s Greetings ©Copyright Chrissy Munder, 2009

  Published by

  Dreamspinner Press

  4760 Preston Road

  Suite 244-149

  Frisco, TX 75034

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com

  Cover Design by Mara McKennen

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  Released in the United States of America

  December 2009

  eBook Edition

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-340-7

 

 

 


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