A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,73

you.”

Dean wasn’t about to leave Robin hanging.

He slid a slick finger into Robin’s ass, moaning at the sensation. “Fuck, you feel so good inside.” Robin pushed back, and Dean got the message. He added another finger, making sure to stretch Robin’s hole. Robin squirmed, apparently unable to keep still, and Dean had to be in there. He stood behind Robin, his hands on Robin’s hips, aimed his dick at Robin’s hole, and pushed.

They used every inch of the ottoman and the couch, Dean fucking him doggy style, then with Robin sitting on his cock, facing the bed as Dean thrust up into him and Robin bounced on his dick. A change of direction and pace as Robin rode him, their gazes locked, Robin’s arms resting on his shoulders while they kissed, slow and sensual, Dean’s hands on his lower back and ass, stroking him. And through it all, Robin kept up a litany of sighs and murmurs, leaving Dean in no doubt as to how he wanted to be fucked. His demands of “harder” sent heat barreling through Dean, until his need was white-hot.

He pulled Robin down onto his shaft and held him there while they kissed. Dean took Robin’s face between his hands. “Hold onto me, okay?” Then he slid his hands under Robin’s ass.

Robin locked his arms around Dean’s neck and held on as Dean carefully got to his feet, his dick sliding free as Dean carried him to the bed, Robin clinging to him like a monkey. He lowered Robin onto the bed, then pushed his legs toward his chest.

“Yes,” Robin said, his breath leaving him in short bursts.

Dean aimed and pushed, and once again his dick was all the way inside Robin’s ass. He lifted Robin’s legs and placed them on his shoulders, leaning over him, his arms hooked under Robin’s knees. Their foreheads met, and Robin groaned.

“Oh my God, you’re so deep,” Robin moaned against his lips. “Yeah, right there.” Dean moved unhurriedly at first, rolling his hips, stirring his cock inside Robin. Robin’s eyes widened. “Fuck, yeah. That feels so good.” Dean nodded, picking up the pace a little, and Robin gasped. “Oh God. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“No intention of stopping,” Dean ground out as he rocked into Robin’s body, reaching between them to work Robin’s dick. “Want to feel it when you come. Want to feel you tighten around my cock.”

Robin cried out as Dean slammed into him, flesh slapping against flesh, Dean’s hand slick on Robin’s shaft. “Kiss me?”

Dean claimed his mouth, tongues colliding as he drove into him, the feel of Robin’s body so fucking tight around his dick that it sent shudders through him. And when warmth creamed Dean’s fingers, joy surged through him. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

And I love you. The words were right there, but Dean wasn’t about to say them, not when they could be missed in the heat of passion. Dean wanted to say them when the moment was right. But he was going to say them.

The thought sent him over the edge, and Dean shot hard, shivering from the force of his orgasm. Robin wrapped his arms around Dean and held him, both of them a little breathless, no words needed. They exchanged soft kisses, and Dean pushed the hair back from Robin’s damp forehead, looking into his eyes.

Robin shuddered out a breath. “Wow. That was… different.”

“That was all you.” Dean stroked his cheek. And fuck, it had been a powerful experience. Then Robin’s stomach gurgled, and Dean laughed. “Okay, that’s one hunger dealt with. How about we deal with the other?”

“Do we have to go down to the restaurant?”

Dean chuckled. “No, baby. We can eat here. I’ll call room service.”

Robin sighed. “Does that mean we have to move?”

“Well, unless you want to shock the waiter when he delivers the food…”

That earned him another sigh. “Okay.”

Dean kissed the tip of his nose. “But I promise, as soon as he’s gone, we can get naked again.”

“And can we eat dinner in bed?”

Dean kissed him on the lips. “We can do whatever the fuck we want. This is our weekend, remember?”

And he intended to get the most out of every minute.

The Metropolitan Museum was a treasure-trove of fascinating artwork, and Robin could quite happily have spent a week there, rather than a few hours. Of course, they would have had more hours if Robin hadn’t decided to awake Dean with his mouth on Dean’s morning wood.

A slow morning fuck could fast become Robin’s favorite activity. Too bad