by Trina Lane
Clay laughed at the childlike behaviour. Logan didn’t turn around, and it was then Clay noticed his lover wasn’t wearing his speech processors. He slipped back into the bedroom and saw them in the case on Logan’s nightstand. Normally, Logan had them on before he was completely awake. Their absence was a real testament to Logan’s sense of security and excitement of Christmas morning.
Clay slipped the devices into his pocket and retrieved Logan’s main gift from its hiding spot in his closet. He slowly walked up behind Logan—who now stood at the fireplace, moving stuff around on the mantel—and wrapped his arms around his love.
“I knew you were there,” Logan said, leaning back into Clay’s embrace.
Clay attached Logan’s processors and watched as Logan adjusted them to his liking. When he knew the devices had been activated, he turned Logan in his arms and planted a good morning kiss on the pliant lips waiting for him.
“Merry Christmas, honey.”
“Merry Christmas, Clay. What’d you get me?” Logan asked, smiling.
“So impatient.”
Logan nodded, grinning from ear to ear.
“Why don’t you light a fire, I’ll turn on the tree lights then we can sip our coffee and enjoy the snow falling outside the windows?”
Logan huffed out a breath. “Fine, but I still want to open presents.”
Clay was doing everything he could not to burst out into hysterical laughter at Logan’s pouting expression. He flipped the switch to the tree lights and settled on the floor next to Logan. He picked up one of the gifts he’d bought for Logan and held it out. Suddenly, he had a lapful of happy man, and for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
Twenty minutes later, the hardwood was covered in colourful paper, and Logan was happily monkeying around with the binaural direct-connect cable Clay had purchased for his processors along with the iTouch already loaded with Logan’s favourites. Having a personal music device was one of the things that Logan had missed the most since losing his hearing. His speech processors were capable of independent music programmes, and now, Logan could take advantage of them.
Clay sat on the couch sipping his coffee and, as he’d suggested earlier, enjoying the warmth from their fireplace and the picturesque snow. He had one last gift for Logan and was just waiting for the right time to present it.
Clay’s contemplations were interrupted when Logan flopped onto the sofa beside him. He set his mug on the side table then gathered Logan against his side.
“You happy?” he asked.
“Yes. I have one last gift for you, Clay.”
Clay saw the small box in Logan’s outstretched hand. It looked remarkably similar to the one in his pocket. He dug his out and held it up.
“Imagine that? So do I.”
Logan’s eyes widened, and the brightest smile Clay had ever seen lit up his love’s face. With childish exuberance, they both tore into the gifts. Clay’s hands shook as he lifted the lid on the small square box. Inside was a dark grey titanium band. He watched Logan open his own box. Clay had chosen one almost identical for Logan, only his had hints of rainbow red and green reflecting in the polished surface. He’d thought the faint hues would be a poignant reminder of the holiday. Their eyes met, and as one, they leant forward.
Their lips met and their fingers locked together, the boxes in their laps forgotten as they shared a perfect moment. When they finally separated, they both spoke at the same time.
“Marry me?”
“Make love to me, Logan? I need to feel you inside me.”
“I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”
Clay picked up the box lying in Logan’s lap. “Now?”
Logan shook his head. “I want to wait ‘til the ceremony. This first time this ring goes on my finger should be when I say ‘I do’.”
As usual, Logan’s wishes matched his. He knew the moment Logan’s ring slid over his skin, it would seal their bond for life. The bond that had taken twenty-two years to build. The bond that wove their lives together and, despite a few tears, had healed stronger than when it had formed. He placed the matching boxes on the ottoman.
“Wait here,” he said.
Clay went into the bedroom and stripped the comforter and pillow from their bed. He carried them into the living room and made a nest in front of the fireplace. When all was ready, he waited for his fiancé to join him. Logan’s sensual stride closed the distance between them. They undressed each other with lingering kisses and stimulating caresses as inches of smooth skin were bared.
Clay sank into the soft nest of blankets, the glow of the fire spreading warmth across his skin. Logan settled above him and Clay spread his legs, cradling Logan’s lean hips as their cocks brushed against one another.
Logan’s taste was sweet nectar on his tongue. Their lips danced, and Clay’s mind focused solely on the pleasure he’d only experienced making love to Logan. His hands cupped Logan’s ass, holding his love in the crux of his body. Their mouths separated, and Clay arched his neck. A sigh escaped when Logan’s mouth traced his jaw line and down the column of his neck, licking at the skin. Clay’s desire grew and his hands roamed over the smooth, muscled skin of Logan’s back. He buried his nose in Logan’s broad chest above him, inhaling his lover’s musky scent.
Logan’s head dipped and his mouth latched onto one of Clay’s nipples. A sharp cry of ecstasy rent the air, and Clay’s stomach clenched. His cock wept with need. Logan scooted down, and Clay whimpered with regret until he felt soft wet licks caress his cock. Clay moaned in approval and gasped as Logan’s mouth covered his cock, swallowing him all the way to the base. The heat of Logan’s mouth seared the sensitive skin.
“Oh fuck…Logan.” Clay drove his hips upwards in abandon, the pleasure was so great.
Logan teased him by drawing away from his dick. His mouth hovered above the head. Tiny licks fluttered across the mushroomed glans. The tip of Logan’s tongue dipped into the slit to gather drops of Clay’s essence. Up and down the hard shaft, Logan’s tongue danced. The touches were soft and fleeting as if Clay only imagined them. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Anticipation of moist heat from Logan’s mouth caused his thigh muscles to tense as his cock twitched.
The heat from the fire and arousal coursing through his system created a fine sheen of sweat on his chest and abdomen. Only moments before Clay was convinced he’d go mad, Logan finally took mercy on him and sucked the head of his cock. The sensation of wet heat and suction was so great Clay fell back onto the blankets, closing his eyes to savour the unimaginable feelings. He lifted his legs and held them against his chest, opening his body to Logan’s touch.
He heard a faint click then cool fingers circled his opening. He wanted some part of Logan inside him so badly he pushed into the seeking digits, demanding Logan’s possession of his body. Two fingers thrust deeply into his body.
Oh fuck me, please.
Clay’s chest heaved with deep breaths. The healed tissue expanded and contracted without pain. His legs shook and blinding pleasure spread outward from the core of his body. Another finger entered him, and the tips brushed over his prostate. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. Logan sucked Clay’s cock and thrust his fingers in perfect rhythm.
Clay moaned and cried out, begging for more.
Logan reared up, and their faces were no more than a couple of inches apart.
“You want my cock, Clay? You wanna feel me deep inside you? Every inch filling you, ‘til we don’t know where I stop and you begin?”
Incapable of words, Clay nodded vigorously.
The head of Logan’s cock pushed against his opening, demanding entry. Clay bore down in welcome, and when Logan bit one nipple while simultaneously thrusting deep inside him, Clay lost it and screamed. Logan’s balls nestled against his ass and his hips swivelled, burrowing his cock deeper inside Clay’s core. Clay’s hands lost their grip on his legs, and they dropped over Logan’s arms.
His lover’s strength was more than capable of supporting their weight as he thrust deeply over and over. Logan fucked him hard and fast.
Clay arched into each stroke. His cock slapped against his abdomen, leaving kisses of pre-cum pooling in his navel. Sweat coated their bodies, and the lights from the Christmas tree turned into colourful halos. Logan’s mouth fused with Clay’s, his tongue thrusting in rhythm with the cock expertly obliterating his previous conceptions of pleasure.
It was too much, he couldn’t hold out.
Clay wrenched his mouth away from Logan’s. “Logan!”
The lights dancing behind his eyelids exploded into fireballs of ecstasy. Every muscle, every tendon in his body stiffened, and he came. Hot semen shot over Clay’s stomach and chest.
“Look at me, Clay!”
He forced his eyes open as the waves of pleasure consumed his entire being, and he stared into the smoky blue orbs burning with desire above him.
Logan’s tilted Clay’s hips. His cock reached depths previously unknown and froze. A primal roar echoed in the room as heat filled Clay’s ass.
They spent the rest of the day loving each other, and when the sky darkened and the temperatures dropped outside their haven, they held each other tight. The warmth of their bodies and the beat of the hearts nestled next to each other was all the comfort they needed.
About the Author
If you look up the word conundrum in the dictionary, there should be a photo of Trina Lane. Her personality is so multifaceted that her friends have spent countless hours scratching their heads in wonder. A scientist with a passion for history, music and photography she loves to travel and experience new places but is terminally shy around people she doesn’t know.
Trina has been devouring romance novels since her tender teenage years, although only began writing two and half years ago. When her debut novel was met with resounding success, she said “Hey I can do that again”. The rest as they say is history.
Her choices in reading and writing material are as diverse as her iTunes library, which contains music from Mozart to Metallica. Her one concession is all stories must have a happily ever after ending-did we mention she’s incurably romantic?
She lives in Missouri with her loving and indulgent husband, and orange tabby cat–affectionately referred to as ‘Houdini’ for his stealthy escape attempts.
Email: [email protected]
Trina loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Trina Lane
Shield’s Submissive
Taking the Chance
Perfect Love: The Perfect Union
Perfect Love: His Perfect Partner
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