15. Reid
15
REID
W e walked along the street, stopping to talk to friends and neighbors and enjoying the crisp December night. It’d been the best date I’d been on in a long time. Harlan is so much more than he lets on, his gruff exterior giving way to something much more tender.
He bought me another pair of my mitten gloves, his smile wide as he picked out a dark gray pair with little Christmas trees on them. He’d declined a matching pair, saying he didn’t mind the cold and would much rather just hold my hand.
My heart had squeezed in my chest. He didn’t sound like a man talking in temporary terms, and that notion has me ten shades of confused as we pull into his driveway.
I open my mouth to speak at the same time that Harlan grips the back of my neck and crashes his lips over mine in a searing kiss. He tastes like chocolate and peppermint and a fucking wet dream.
“I need to be inside you,” he pleads, nipping at my jaw and licking down the column of my throat. “Hard and fast—will you let me, Christmas?”
“Yes,” I choke out, my favorite holiday being used as a term of endearment pushing me way over the edge into I’m obsessed with Harlan Frost territory.
“Then get inside”—his eyes are wild as they lock with mine—“now.” The timbre of his voice gives me butterflies as anticipation swirls in my gut. My hand doesn’t connect with the door handle right away, and Harlan’s chuckle is low and menacing as I try like hell to get out of the car.
In one, not-so-smooth motion, my feet hit the snow-covered walk as I follow Harlan to the door. He unlocks it and then holds it open, letting me pass before kicking it closed behind us.
It’s also the last of his restraint.
My back slams against the wall, my grunt swallowed as Harlan’s mouth takes mine in a brutal kiss. There’s nothing sweet about the way he tears my clothes from my body or the filthy things he whispers against my skin as he bends me over his kitchen table, my forearms braced on the wood.
“Look at you,” he rasps, his palms massaging my ass, spreading my cheeks and teasing my hole as I stare at him over my shoulder, lust-drunk and positively out of my mind for him. “Your body is insane, Reid. You’re damn perfect for me, aren’t you?”
I arch my back, seeking his touch, greedy for more—so much more. “You’re being such a tease.”
His hand comes down on my backside, the sting delicious and making me gasp as he does it again.
And again.
“Fuck!”
Harlan’s voice is a roar in the quiet cabin, the sound of his belt buckle and zipper being hastily dealt with ratcheting up the anticipation until I’m damn near thrusting against the table to get some relief.
He swears, and it takes a couple of seconds before I can focus enough to speak. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t have a condom. I have lube but?—”
“Then use it or get on your knees, Mr. Frost, because you’ve got me so wound up I can’t take any more.”
A beat passes between us.
And then another.
A silent conversation that reaffirms just how much trust I’ve put into a man I barely know.
Harlan rips the packet of lube open with his teeth, before coating two fingers and effectively ending any coherent thoughts I might have been having.
He’s gentle but firm, getting me ready to take him.
“Hard and fast—will you let me, Christmas?”
Hell, fucking yes.
Because there’s honestly not a whole lot I won’t let this man do to me.
“Please, Harlan.”
“I love hearing you beg for my dick.”
I whimper, the words filthy but making me so damn hard.
And then I feel him, spreading me wide as he presses the head of his cock against my hole, tension radiating off him in waves as he tries not to thrust in and out the way he wants.
The way he needs.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, his hips rocking gently, letting me adjust as his fingertips trail up and down my spine. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes.”
My eyes squeeze shut as that single word of permission lingers between us. And then Harlan is pistoning into me, his hands gripping my ass, then my hips before his fingers tangle in my hair, forcing my back to arch as he fucks me.
It’s all-consuming, panting the only thing I can manage as he drives into me over and over with the kind of reckless abandon I’ve only heard about.
I claw at the table, desperately trying to hold on as the wood scrapes across the floor. He releases my hair, but only to press me harder against the table before he reaches around and grabs my cock, stroking me as he fucks me—and I shatter.
The orgasm is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, pleasure exploding and rushing through my veins, my vision blurring as I practically weep at the intensity of my release.
I gasp when Harlan pulls his cock from me, painting his own release over my ass and down the back of my thighs before he’s collapsing against me, his cum a sticky mess between us.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be like that,” I murmur under his weight and loving every second of it.
“Like what?”
“Heaven.”
“I think you mean Christmas, Christmas.” He chuckles, his breath hot on my neck, causing a shiver to race down my spine.
“That too.”
He agrees, standing and pulling me up then turning me to face him. His eyes search mine, the confidence of a moment ago somehow dimmed in the aftermath of such intense pleasure.
Reaching up, I cup his face and guide him down until his lips find mine. It’s sweet—the kind of kiss that you never want to end.
“Let me take care of you,” Harlan whispers as if he hadn’t a few minutes ago. But it’s not what he meant.
The words are filled with a vulnerability that makes my heart squeeze in my chest. They’re honest and real and I won’t tease him because I feel it too.
“I’m yours.”
His mouth opens and closes but there are no words.
Not tonight.
Instead, he kisses me as he leads me down the hall to the shower, washing and drying me before making love to me all night long.