Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

72. Henry

Chapter seventy-two

Henry

H enry’s pajamas lay neatly folded atop the blanket chest at the foot of the bed, and there they would stay. Once he shed his clothes, he would have no need for anything beyond skin, his own thrumming with vibrant heat as he circled his thumb in Jay’s palm. Such a small touch, but awash in richness and intensity. He pressed into long strokes, and Jay curled his fingers in reflexive response, his body answering unspoken commands.

Jay caught his breath, his trembling hiss of desire tickling Henry’s nerves. “Henry? Do you want—”

“You.” Low, throaty, he left no doubt as to his intent. He’d given this need hours to develop, a slow rise building since their morning shower. For weeks he’d sealed himself off from his senses, from the emotions that accompanied so much openness, and lived entirely in the mind, consumed by daily logistics. Not today. “You and our lovely wife.”

Alice emerged from the bathroom, her timing impeccable despite the lack of collaboration on his part.

He’d planned nothing today, resisted thinking ahead, and given himself over to the wants of the body. He’d eaten as the mood took him. Inhaled the sweetness of the oak and cherry burning brightly in the fireplace. Sipped the mulled spices in the cider, the warmth of cardamom and nutmeg on his tongue as his fingers drifted across the tight knit of the soft alpaca fiber of Alice’s sweater. Brushed the thick nap of the settee seat in both directions, rough and smooth. Listened to the eddies and swells of voices, participating only minimally, hoarding the joy in his heart as Alice and Jay grew confident steering the conversation. They mined for gems, scattering the small talk and prizing out true beauties that delighted Mother. She’d insisted they not discuss care arrangements today, and she’d been right to do so.

More happiness than the room could hold poured into him, flooding him with a contentment and ease he’d forgotten. His closest friends called him a sensualist, a hedonist, Kierkegaard’s despair—the artist glorying in aesthetic bliss. Today he’d gorged those impulses on sensory experience. Now his cock pulsed and strained against its confinement for no more than the clasp of his husband’s hand in his and the sight of his wife readying for bed, her hair framing her face in waves, her body bare but for a pair of red silk underwear he’d gifted her.

He kissed Jay with purpose, cradling his cheeks, scraping his fingers across Jay’s neck, claiming with lips and tongue. Rocking his hips forward, he met Jay’s rising interest. A tenor whimper signaled he’d made clear his desire. Drawing back, he studied dazed brown eyes with a growling satisfaction burning through his chest. “Ready yourself for bed, husband.”

Jay dashed past Alice and into the bathroom. Their wife sauntered forward, the curl of her mouth an invitation. “Good day?”

He stretched his arm out slowly, giving her ample time to shy away. But as he tweaked her nipple between finger and thumb, teasing out the tip, creating a web of ridges to excite his senses, she stood her ground. He pinched gently. “Christmas has only just begun. I thought we might share a gift.”

Her eyes sparked; she breathed through parted lips. “Are you taking what you want, or are you fulfilling an obligation you think you have?”

A fair question, and a proper one to ask. She’d learned an astonishing amount about the ethical application of power in the last year. Knowledge and confidence could be aphrodisiacs like no other.

“Because it’s okay if you need more time—”

“I am reminding myself”—he clasped her ribs and followed the curve to the flare of her hips—“that I am more than a tangled skein of worries and obligations.” His fingers dipped below the edge of her panties, skirting the cleft of her ass, as she permitted him to reel her into an embrace. “I am a body of appetites and sensations, and those too deserve attention.”

“Yes they do.” Alice rubbed herself against him, rolling into his grasp and trapping his cock between them. “It’s a good night to remember that.” She pressed her lips to the corners of his mouth, goading him for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Henry.”

“Merry Christmas, Alice.” He took her offer and tasted mint, crisp and fresh, on her tongue. Threading his fingers through her hair, he released the scent of woodsmoke from the fire Jay had built for their cozy Christmas Eve. His first Christmas Eve with his family entire, the sweet faces he dearly loved gathered around as he led them through story to slumber.

A faint caress skated past his hip. Alice rucked up his sweater and the button-down beneath it, sending searching, grasping fingers around his waist and sliding her arms up his back. Fiery embers trailed where she touched, his nerves alight and eager for more.

Chuckling softly, he pressed their foreheads together and caught his breath. “I find I am the greedy one this night, my love. Your touch inflames me.”

She peeled the sweater over his head and tossed it to the floor, going straight to work on the shirt beneath. Her fingers flitted from button to button with the speed of minuscule brushstrokes—an artist in the throes of passion, chasing a vision. “That’s good, right? Touching you feels good to me.”

“Your touch feels incredible. Astonishing.” He pitched his voice low, keeping her close, hungry for the vibrations her nearness unleashed. He gazed into a well of desire endless and all-consuming, overflowing with the beauty of sensation.

The shirt fell from his shoulders, and he filled his lungs as Alice flattened her hands to his chest. She pinched his nipples, sly minx, and giggled at his growl in return. Eyes half-lidded, he stood still as she mapped him. She dug a path with her thumbs across the strong line of his clavicle. Cupped his shoulders and squeezed, her grip as hard and claiming as any he’d delivered to her and Jay.

“We named you ours.” Alice nipped his neck, her teeth a delightful tease. His ribs fell to her clutching hands, then his flanks. She slipped the belt free from his waistband. “At the wedding. This body belongs to me as much as mine belongs to you.”

“It does.” His body rejoiced as she reached the fastener at the front of his dress slacks, his nerves singing. The zipper ticked open under pressure from her fingers. His cock tented his boxers, standing ready to serve his appetites.

Alice grasped him through the cotton.

He hissed through his teeth, unprepared for the depth of the pulses reverberating through him. He’d opened himself to sensation, and now he held no mental barrier in place to hold off his pleasure.

“Careful, sweet girl.” He tamed the desire to thrust. Once he started, the night would be over much too fast. “I may not be capable of my usual standards just now.”

Hazel eyes gleamed; she swept her lips with her tongue. “We love when you’re wild, you know. When your desire for us overrides that brilliant mind of yours. But I think…” She kissed him lightly, sweetly, and her hand on his cock slipped away. “That isn’t what we all need tonight. You suggested sharing a gift.” Tipping her head toward the bathroom as the door opened, she whispered in his ear. “I suspect he’s the one you have in mind? I’m all in favor.”

He seized her thighs and lifted.

Her fluttering hands landed alongside his neck; her harsh breaths swept across his hair. Her amusement rippled through him, her breasts pressed against him, the soft swell of her stomach shifting as she laughed. “That’s the second time today you’ve surprised me like that.”

Carrying her like Cleopatra on her throne had been a spur-of-the-moment choice as well. Spontaneity had its uses—a lesson he’d perhaps forgotten.

“My impulses have gotten the better of me today.” Surprising his spouses came with the delightful benefits of their reactions—heightened breathing, flushed skin, startlement flashing in their eyes. Such prizes were the pinnacle of his pursuits, a sensual feast, every reaction spurring him to seek another, and another, while his lovers danced to his tune.

Stepping carefully backward, he found the edge of the bed and sat. Alice settled her knees beside his hips. With one hand atop her spine, lest she tip too far, he held her steady and brushed his knuckles across the red silk between her thighs.

Her body trembled, but her eyes remained a challenge, her focus locked on him.

“Good girl.” Back and forth, holding his pace, he relished each twitch as his knuckles slid over her clitoris, the underwear an inconsequential barrier. “I do propose we share the gift you identified.”

Jay, smart boy, had dispensed with his clothing. Henry tipped his head in invitation, and their Adonis strode toward them in the proud nudity that is not vanity but ease in one’s skin.

Alice dropped her head back, allowing Henry’s supportive hand to hold her up. “Ready for bed, stud?”

“Ready for whatever you two have in mind for me.” Quite ready, in fact. Jay’s cock bobbed against his stomach, a single element of his overall allure. “In bed, out of bed, a little of both…”

“What an excellent thought. Alice and I were just discussing much the same.” Henry deepened the press of his knuckles, and she shuddered as she lifted her head. “I was about to judge her readiness. What better way than to see for myself?”

She smirked at him. “You have a lot of talents, but even you can’t see through silk.”

“Such a shame,” he murmured, curling his fingers around the edge of the cloth. The thrumming of his heartbeat intensified. A long lapse in his control might have provoked bratting in his spouse, a demand that he prove with strength or wits his fitness to lead her. That too could delight the senses.

“I shall have to rely upon other resources. Touch, perhaps.” Dragging his finger beneath the silk, he parted her lips and received a heated, slippery welcome. His slow thrust, two fingers to their full depth, wrung a moan and a long blink from his marvelous wife. She clenched her thighs against his; he pressed outward, offering greater resistance, denying her the pressure she sought.

He hummed, a satisfied tease not unlike her smirk. “Sound, do you think? I do believe I heard a moan.” Thrusting in a slow rhythm, he arched his fingers forward and rubbed as he moved. “Perhaps we might make that come again.”

Alice dug her fingers into his neck. Her hips rolled with his thrusts. She panted in short breaths. “You think so?”

He clamped his teeth together to stop the laugh escaping. Jay made a rare departure from form, cupping his hand over his mouth and looking away. Just as well, if it contained his laughter. Alice intended to make her dominant work to earn his place. He had never been one to shy from a difficult design.

“Scent, then.” He inhaled deeply, ostentatiously, skating his nose along her neck and the curve of her shoulder. “Earthy and sweet, thick with desire, your scent rises from your skin, Alice. Your very essence tells me of your readiness.”

“I’m sure I—” She rocked back, her weight on his arm. His thumb squarely placed on her clitoris might have had something to do with that. “Sure I don’t—” Her hitching breaths and the incomparably rosy flush spreading down her chest belied her denials. “Don’t smell a thing.”

“Then I’m afraid we’ve only one recourse left to us.” A silent nod to Jay brought him firmly against Alice’s back, ready to support her if she arched as Henry hoped—and freeing more hands. He guided Jay to her breasts, to cup and fondle and tweak as he desired. Alice squirmed, and he graciously declined to emphasize her fresh moans. “Perhaps that will satisfy.”

Spreading his knees wider, Henry gave himself more room to work. Red silk, twisted and wet, provided little covering. Between one thrust and the next, he switched hands and began a steadily increasing campaign across her clitoris. He held the rhythm of his thrusts at a background pace, requiring barely more awareness than the demanding beat of his cock. Its time would come later. The dance of his fingers against Alice’s slick nerves consumed his focus. Speed and pressure incrementally increased until he found the point that made her rigid in his lap, her body locked in place and shuddering.

“Do you wish to know what it is?”

“Wha?” Dark pupils narrowed Alice’s irises to thin rings, flecked hazel a match for their wedding bands. “What is?”

Her body shook, hovering at the edge. He waited for her fall, every sense on high alert for signs of surrender. The arch in her back deepened. She clamped down on his hand.

“Taste.” He stole his thrusting fingers and plunged them into his mouth as she broke apart. Alice’s sweetness burst across his tongue.

She writhed against the thumb pinning her clitoris in place. Jay, his brilliant, brilliant boy, swallowed her moans with a thorough kiss. As her shaking subsided, Henry cupped her gently in his hand, guarding the sensitive nerves still sending forth periodic shivers.

Alice sagged in his arms, slumping forward with her head against his shoulder. “Henry?”

“Yes, sweet girl?”

“I trust your senses.”

His heart slowed its hammering in his chest. The fear that he had irreparably damaged their relationship floated free, skimmed away like so much dross. “I am pleased”—his voice cracked, emotion clogging his throat—“pleased beyond measure to be worthy of your trust.”

She curled into him tightly and pushed herself up, hands on his shoulders. Smile impish, eyes soft, she lightly kissed his mouth. “Ready when you are to share that gift.”

He projected a false sorrow, sighing heavily. “We both remain overdressed, alas.”

“We can fix that. Jay?” She wobbled to her feet, gratifyingly off-balance from the climax he’d helped her reach. Guiding their husband’s hands to her hips, she folded his fingers around red silk. “These are in my way now. Do something about that, please.”

Jay kissed a line down her back as he crouched behind her, taking the underwear with him as he went. Stepping free, Alice squeaked; that final kiss might have been a teasing bite at the roundness of her exposed ass.

“You.” She ruffled Jay’s hair and tugged. His quiet whine proved it more reward than punishment. “Henry needs help with his clothes, too. Get on it, please.”

She slipped out from between them. He stood, his slacks agreeably drifting down. Jay helped them along with strong strokes, a massage for his thighs. The encouragement was hardly necessary—his cock thankfully retained its firmness, aching for an opportunity—but the touch heated him every bit as much as Alice’s had. Now she rummaged in a duffel bag at the end of the bed. Jay stripped his boxers, pulling them wide, giving his erection room to spring out at last. Kneeling, gazing upward, Jay sought silent permission for a taste.

Henry gripped the base of his cock and squeezed hard. Breathing slowly, he backed down from the edge and angled the tip toward Jay. “A few moments, no more, unless you’ve reason to forgo other pleasures tonight.”

Jay shook his head slowly. “Wouldn’t miss that for anything. Conditions are green across the board.” He closed his mouth around Henry’s cock.

Jay welcomed him with wet warmth and a steady pull, jolting his senses. A few moments might be too many. But he would need lubrication regardless—had he specified—a bottle pressed into his hand as Alice climbed onto the bed behind him. Henry squeezed her hand in gratitude.

The blankets came flying back, sweeping across his ass where he’d braced against the bed. He pushed forward reflexively and groaned as Jay greedily took him deeper. Jay’s questing tongue circled Henry’s grip at the base of his cock. Balls tight, he grabbed for Jay’s neck with his free hand. “That’s quite enough, dearest. You excel too much at your work to continue further tonight.”

Jay’s sweet smile and shining eyes more than balanced the risk of his own premature exit from their entertainment. “Another night?”

“Many, many other nights in our future.” He urged Jay to his feet. The first solid erection he’d had in two weeks wouldn’t go to waste. “But on this night, I would rather have your face close to mine. I would hold you in my arms and share the delights of your body with our wife. I would carry your heart with mine.”

He’d recited e.e. cummings just this morning. Jay glowed in every sleek line, his beauty magnified in belonging, their claim a second skin as he settled between them on the bed.

Kissing, caressing, Henry moved in unspoken concert with Alice. They worshipped their devoted husband with hands and mouths, praising his incomparable heart, his magnificent body, his loving service far beyond any they deserved. Jay’s pleased whimpers spiraled into true need.

Henry stroked Alice’s hip, and she pulled Jay into a deep kiss. “Roll toward me, sweetheart.”

Warmed from the heat of their bodies, the lube flowed easily, slicking hand and cock. Henry slipped slowly forward. Jay’s welcoming grip eased his entry, the relief of returning almost overwhelming. Jay nestled his ass into the cradle of Henry’s hips, and Henry held himself still, pulsing with the heartbeat they shared.

Drawing Jay inside her, Alice folded her leg across them both. Henry’s hand met Jay’s under the curve of her ass, snugging them tightly together.

They moved in near silence, a chorus of breaths and whispered endearments. Moonlight shone through the curtains, silhouetting his spouses’ single, joined form undulating to the pace he set. Outside the window, a Christmas snowfall blanketed the world.

A fragment of poetry flitted through the rapture he strove for, and he clasped it as he did Jay and Alice, one hand yet cupping her backside while the other wrapped across Jay’s chest and pinned him tight.

I hold infinity in the palm of my hand.

Climax beckoned with tantalizing heat, racing toward blinding light.