Chapter One
2 days to Christmas Eve…
Owen Finn was having one hell of a good dream. Or—he smiled inwardly when the sound of his own moans made his heavy eyelids lift—his favorite kind of wake up call.
“Mmm. Morning.” He watched Jeremy through his lashes and tangled his fingers in mussed dark hair, each tug of his lover’s mouth setting small fireworks off through his body. “Is it Christmas?”
Jeremy’s mouth was too occupied to answer.
Owen’s teeth scraped across his lower lip and he rocked his hips as his cock disappeared down the talented throat of his fiancé. “Fuck, never mind. Will you still do this after the wedding, or do I need to add it to the vows? Do you, Jeremy Porter, promise to love, honor, obey me anytime I ask you to suck my dick?”
Jeremy let Owen’s cock slide out from between his lips to fall heavy and hard on his belly. He climbed up the bed and kissed Owen’s chin. “You can not add that.”
“That sounds like a dare.” His low laugh morphed into a surprised groan as cold lube slipped between the cheeks of his ass, swiftly followed by Jeremy’s talented fingers. “Wait. I want that mouth back on my—Oh Jesus, that’s good.” He bent his knees and spread his legs wide, gasping raggedly when two large fingers pushed inside. “God, it must be Christmas. I don’t know what I did but it looks like I’ve been a damn good boy.”
Jeremy skimmed Owen’s lips with his own as he thrust deep, hitting his prostate with every stroke. God he had talented hands. Artist’s hands. “Good isn’t the word I’d use,” he whispered hotly. “In fact, I see a lump of coal in your future, because you’ve been a giant pain in my ass.”
Owen bit down on Jeremy’s lower lip. “As often as possible,” he agreed, breathless. “And you love it.”
Desperate sounds escaped his throat as Jeremy looked into his eyes without a word while he stretched his ass. It was intimate and powerful, and it took all of Owen’s willpower not to beg.
He was slowly coming to terms with how little control he had with Jeremy. The need was too consuming and it never faded. Never eased. Owen reached down to grasp the big, brutally large cock he loved and gripped as much of it as he could. “You planning on returning the favor this morning, big guy? I could take that kind of pain in my ass all day.”
Jeremy grit his teeth and his fingers plunged deeper, making Owen gasp. “Oh I will, Owen. But you know that’s not what I mean.”
“I know you want me. You always want me.”
“I do.”
“Get used to saying that.” Owen’s hips were restless, practically lifting his body off the bed when Jeremy started to pump faster, harder. A thumb grazed his tight balls and he shuddered. “I swear as soon as the wedding is over I’m going to take you back to our cabin and consummate the hell out of your ass if you don’t fuck me right now.”
“That’s not exactly a threat.” Jeremy’s breath panted against his lips, close enough for a kiss. “After all you’ve put me through the last few months, I should make you wait. Torture you the way you love to torture me.”
“You know what happens once it’s my turn.” I’ll tie you up and paddle your ass until you’re shouting for release. I’ll make you do the begging. And then I’ll bury myself inside you until we both get what we want. Until neither one of us can walk.
The visual only made him hotter. “Fuck me.”
“Say please.”
“Please, damn it.”
Jeremy moved in between his thighs like a warrior claiming his spoils. He was fucking glorious. He’d grown his beard back for the wedding at Owen’s request, and between that, all his muscles and the stunning Maori tattoos on his ass and thighs, Jeremy looked fierce. A predator. In this moment he wasn’t the buddy who’d let him cheat off his papers in high school, or got drunk with him when he snuck bottles out of his father’s pub and lounged around playing videogames instead of meeting his deadline, just because Owen was bored.
An angel in the streets, a wild man in the sheets, and mine every day, Owen thought proudly, knowing it was true. Jeremy Porter—soon to be Porter-Finn—was his best friend, his heart and, whenever the mood struck them, a willing submissive that could take whatever Owen dished out. But he wasn’t submitting now. At the moment he was coating his monster erection with lube, his hard gaze daring Owen to stop him.
He never would. It didn’t matter what he’d thought he wanted before. What kink he’d called his own or what his sexuality used to be. His orientation was Jeremy. All he wanted was Jeremy. Anything and everything they did together felt right.