A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,47

more?” Dean asked.

Robin nodded, and Dean held him by the waist, lifting him, then lowering him back onto his cock. Robin let out a long moan. “Oh, fuck, that feels good.”

Dean chuckled. “You said that already.”

Any quips Robin intended to make were lost in a wave of crushing pleasure as he rocked a little faster, his hands flat to Dean’s chest, connecting them. He gave a bounce, and Dean’s dick slid a bit deeper, forcing a groan from him. Another bounce, and another, and now everything changed as discomfort fled, replaced by exquisite friction.

And through it all, Dean never broke eye contact. He focused on Robin’s face, an intense gaze that sent heat flooding through Robin’s body. A joyous feeling bubbled up from someplace deep within him, spreading through him, lighting him up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh fuck, this is good!” Laughter burst out of him. Dean’s face was alight, and Robin kissed him, wanting more of their connection.

“That’s it, baby. Enjoy it.”

Robin let go and rode him, pushing down on Dean’s shoulders, unable to keep still, letting that joy surge through him, loving every stroke of Dean’s cock inside him.

But with that joy came the realization that it wasn’t going to last.

“Dean,” he cried out. “I can’t…”

Dean tugged faster on Robin’s upright cock, only now he was thrusting up into him, Robin sinking down to meet each upward motion as they got into a rhythm.

“I’ve got you.”

Oh, fuck. Robin shot hard, shaking as he pulsed cum onto Dean’s chest. Dean’s fingers were tight around his shaft, warmth trickling down his dick as he was swept along on a tide of bliss like nothing he’d ever experienced.

Dean pulled him down, and they kissed, Robin unwilling for it to be over.

Then he realized it wasn’t. Dean was still inside him.

Dean’s hand was sticky on his cheek. “Fuck, you are so sexy when you come.” Then he took Robin’s mouth in another heated kiss, Robin’s arms around his neck, clinging to him, still riding out the last waves of his orgasm.

Robin knew how he wanted this to end. “Want to feel you come on me,” he whispered.

Dean’s pupils almost obliterated the green of his eyes. “Fuck.” He nodded, and Robin gently lifted himself onto his knees, Dean’s cock easing out of him. He knelt between Dean’s spread thighs, waiting as Dean removed the condom, tossing it to the floor. He worked his shaft, his belly quivering, his chest heaving, the muscles in his abs jumping.

“Look at you.” Dean stared at Robin, his hand moving faster.

Robin’s breathing hadn’t slowed. His heart pounded as he watched Dean approach his climax head-on, until at last Dean gave a cry as he aimed his dick at Robin, warm cum hitting Robin’s sternum. Dean slid his hand up and down his cock, as the evidence of his orgasm trickled down Robin’s belly, reaching his pubes.

Dean moaned. “Come here.”

Robin crawled up his sweat-slick body, until their lips met in a slow kiss, robbed of its previous heat but infinitely sweeter. Dean’s arms encircled him, and he hooked his legs around Robin’s waist, connecting them from chest to groin.

He wanted to ask how it had been for Dean, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Thank you,” Dean murmured against his lips. “That was…” Another slow kiss, and Robin sighed into it.

Now it was perfect.

“Was it anything like your fantasies?”

Robin shook his head. “It was way better.” His body ached in the best way, and he was sticky as fuck. He kissed Dean on the lips, his chest tightening.

Don’t let it be just this once.

Robin wanted to do it all over again.

More importantly, he wanted it to be with Dean. That connection was addictive.

Then he remembered. They were going to spend a weekend together in New York City.

A whole weekend.

I may not wanna come home after that.

Chapter Fourteen

Dean lay in bed, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over his bedroom through the cream blinds. A warm body nestled in his arms, and Robin’s even breathing was the only sound in the room.

This is heaven.

He hadn’t intended on taking a nap. It had sort of snuck up on them. Not that Dean was surprised Robin had fallen asleep. He’d been wiped out. Dean breathed in Robin’s smell, relishing the feel of his body against Dean’s, the touch of his hand covering Dean’s on his chest.

I could get used to this.

Most of his hook-ups took place in hotel rooms or motels. It was safer than bringing them back to