Snow Storm

Chapter 11

Claude

Claude was off-kilter, and he’d never felt like this. Not since he was attempting to stand on trembling legs, unsure if he’d ever walk on his own again. Not even staring his ex in the face, waiting for her to explain why she was in his office bent over his desk, getting railed by his TA, had thrown him the way Harley did.

But this was good. It was all so good. The hunger he felt in his body for Harley surpassed anything he’d ever known. It had given Claude a rush of power, picking up Harley’s fork and feeding him. The act itself hadn’t been sexual, but the way Harley had gotten hard—the way he looked at Claude like he was willing to submit and obey—there were no words for the emotion he had in his chest.

He reached between his legs and felt himself. He was thickening—a slow, steady growth with each beat of his pulse. He still didn’t have full sensation in his cock, but he didn’t need it. Since his accident, he’d realized sex was so much more than just friction on his dick. It was a connection to himself in ways he’d never worried about before. And it was a connection to his partner, a focus on their pleasure, that made it feel so much more powerful than when he wasn’t disabled.

That was something he’d experienced so little of. A couple of times with Anabelle when she’d allowed him to be close to her.

One night had been so good he thought maybe their marriage had been saved. And then, a month later, he’d found her in his office with one of the people he trusted most in his life. But he knew now he was only fooling himself back then.

He would never be the same man she had married, and she had given up on them. Now, that night felt like a goodbye, and the memory was no longer painful. It felt like closure.

Her affair led to him being here, and right now, he didn’t want to think of a world in which he wasn’t given the opportunity to at least taste Harley.

To feel him.

To sink inside him and listen to him whimper and beg.

Claude shuddered, then made his way to the sink and dropped their dishes into the soapy water. He knew he was dragging this out, and not just for the sake of anticipation. He was nervous about not being able to perform. About not lasting long enough. Not being good enough.

Harley had been through too much, and he deserved at least one night where he lost himself to ecstasy. Claude didn’t trust he could be the man to do it. But he was selfish…and just lonely enough that he wasn’t going to back down. He wanted this for himself too.

Turning away, he allowed himself several deep breaths, then used his hand on the wall to keep his legs steady as he made his way to the bedroom. The hall was dark, and the bedroom was even darker. The door was open, but Harley hadn’t turned on any of the lights.

His fingers twitched, debating if he should turn the ceiling lamp on, but in the end, he decided against it. He could see the shadowy lump on the bed that was Harley. He could hear his unsteady breathing and the sound his body made as he shifted against the duvet.

There was a dark pile near the foot of the bed—his clothes, Claude imagined. His dick got a little harder at that. He finally reached the bathroom and flicked on the light, then turned to face the room.

“Are you warm enough?”

Harley let out a tense laugh. “No.”

“Do you want to crawl under the covers?”

“I’d rather be under you.”

Claude sucked in a breath. There were moments Harley was exactly the man Claude expected him to be. And then there were moments he was wildly surprising. Claude adored both, but right now, he wanted to be surprised.

“That can be arranged.” Claude made his way to the bed with careful steps. His legs were still weaker than usual, but they held him as he stood beside the edge of the mattress and looked down. Now, with the dim light, Claude got a full view of what was waiting for him.

Harley was on his back, legs flat and spread, his cock thick and stretched up toward his stomach. His body was a wide expanse of olive skin, little moles and freckles decorating him from his throat down to his rib cage.

His stomach was soft, hips even softer, thighs thick and shapely with the tension he was holding in his body. Claude reached down and ran his fingertips over the thick hair curling over the tops of his legs. “Breathe for me, mon ange.”

“Ange. Is that…”

“Angel,” Claude said. “My angel.”

Harley’s entire body moved with a single shiver, starting at his feet, ending at his chin. He licked his lips, then let out a slow exhale. His thighs didn’t relax completely, but his stomach went a little softer.

It was progress.

Claude began to unbutton his shirt as he watched Harley watch him. His fingers were nimble and quick, and it didn’t take long before he was there with his chest exposed and his hands on the zipper of his pants.

“Keep going,” Harley begged roughly.

Claude did. He carefully stepped out of his trousers, tossing them to the side. His cock stood proudly at attention, so he gripped it hard and gave it a stroke. It didn’t feel like it used to. It was dull and muted, but the way Harley’s face transformed with pure, raw need was enough.

“You like what you see?”

“You’re joking, right? Who wouldn’t like you?”

The question was so honest it almost hurt. Claude could name more than one person who’d turned away from him. His grey hair, the fact that his legs would always be thin and slightly atrophied, the way his pecs were starting to sag with age…the fact that he so rarely smiled. Though that last one seemed like it didn’t apply whenever Harley was around him.

That was…something.

Claude bit his lower lip, then pressed his hands to the mattress and carefully crawled beside his would-be lover. He had no idea how this was going to go. Claude knew what he was capable of, but this was the first time in years he’d been allowed to put it into practice.

Balancing on his knees, he lifted one hand and pressed his palm to Harley’s chest. He could feel his heart racing, his breath hitching, the tiny vibrations in his skin as he kept himself from trembling.

Claude dragged his hand down low, lower, just not quite to the place that he knew Harley wanted to be touched. “Ah. Look at you.”

“I feel like a mess,” Harley said quietly, tone strained.

Claude smiled and shook his head. “If this is a mess, I’m curious to see how much more beautiful you’d be when you’re put together.”

Harley laughed and pushed up slightly on his elbows, pressing back against Claude’s hand. “I don’t know that I ever have been, so I’m glad you like me this way.”

“I have a feeling I’d like you in all the ways you come, chéri.” Claude leaned in, bracing himself on Harley’s chest, so close their lips almost brushed with his next words. “So to speak.”

The kiss started off a little hesitant, a little unsure. Harley’s lips were stiff, but Claude was careful with him. He stretched his legs out, lying beside him, and used his arms to draw him into his side. Harley let out a long breath of air, and then his body relaxed. His arms came around Claude—tentative to start and then tight. His mouth opened, tongue meeting Claude’s. He tasted rich like the spices from dinner and unique—his own flavor that had no real name except his own.

“Mm. I could kiss you for the rest of my life,” Harley murmured softly. The words were faint, unthinking, and Claude didn’t call him on them because they were also honest.

He felt the same way.

If their lives had been different—if there was any way forward—Claude knew damn well he wouldn’t let go. But he wasn’t about to trap Harley in this mountainside prison he’d made for himself. Harley deserved the world.

He would allow himself this—just this little while—and then he’d let go.

“How do you want me?” Harley murmured into the kiss.

Claude broke away, cupping one hand against Harley’s cheek. “I think you’ll need to ride me. My legs aren’t very strong today, and I’m not sure I could hold myself up long enough to make it good for you.”

Harley snorted. “I swear to God, if you blew a puff of warm air over my balls, I’d probably come all over myself. But I also really, really want to…um. Be on top.” The last three words were whisper-quiet, like he was afraid to say them aloud.

Claude groaned at the image of making Harley lose total control without being touched. He thought maybe he could use that—play with him a little. He could toy with him, even underneath him. Gripping Harley by the back of his hair, Claude kissed him fiercely before rolling away and pawing through his nightstand.

He had enough supplies to last them through the next week if they were a little stingy.

“May I ask?—”

“I haven’t used these with anyone,” Claude told him before Harley could finish his sentence. “I used the lube on myself. The condoms were…impulse. I suppose I’m grateful for that now.” He pushed up to sit against the headboard, feeling his dick once more. It was still perfectly stiff, and he shuddered at the thought of watching Harley sink onto him. “I haven’t…with anyone in a long, long while.”

“Since your ex?”

Claude let his eyes close in a slow blink. “It was difficult with her. She wasn’t happy with my body, and I wasn’t brave enough to try again and be rejected. So forgive me if I’m nervous.”

“Trust me, I won’t judge you. And you’re already a thousand times better than my ex has ever been.” The honesty in Harley’s words was painful. Cutting. Claude wished more than anything he could have five minutes alone with that man. He’d make him very, very sorry for ever hurting the one person Claude was pretty sure didn’t deserve it.

After a beat, he urged Harley close. He got one leg to swing over his thighs, and he settled Harley over him, loving the feel of his weight. His sensations were so dulled that being pressed into the mattress was one of the most glorious feelings of all time.

“Am I too heavy?” Harley asked.

Claude blinked at him. “No, chéri. You feel amazing.”

“Okay, because I know I’m on the heavier side, so if you need me to?—”

“No,” Claude said again. Harley had started to lift up, so Claude pulled him down. “I’m not able to feel my lower half the way I could before my accident. This is perfect. You are perfect. Please don’t move. Let me have all of you.” He dug his fingers into Harley’s hips, making him moan.

“You have me.”

Claude kissed him for that, and when he pulled back, he answered his other question. “Right after my divorce was finalized, I went out once with my cousin in an attempt to regain my confidence. But it didn’t go well. Men in clubs are…perhaps not the men I should have been seeking out with my age and my body.”

Harley looked down at him, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I get that. Not the age thing. Not yet, anyway,” he added with a laugh. “I know I don’t fit the standard of perfect, but I’ve always liked who I was. I’ve never wanted to change for anyone.”

“Good,” Claude said fiercely. He gripped him by the jaw and met his gaze. “I mean that.”

Harley smiled. “I know you do. But I also understand the weight of…expectations. And not living up to them. Some days, it’s hard, and some days—when I remember that I am who I am and I deserve to find the person who loves me for me—it’s easier. Like now.”

Claude felt a rush of heat in his chest, and he groaned, sinking his teeth into Harley’s neck and suckling gently. He wanted to devour this man. “I want to fuck you,” he murmured against his skin.

“Then fuck me,” Harley answered like it was the only thing he could say. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Just like this.” Claude ran his hands up Harley’s thighs, stopping just short of his dick. When Harley whined, Claude smirked at him. “Mm. I think I want to see how well you take my cock without me touching you. Do you think you can do that? Can you be that good for me?”

Harley’s breath trembled on his exhale. “I can be so good for you.”

Claude reached for the condom and tore the box open, grabbing the little strip. He broke one away, then carefully set it against Harley’s palm. “Put this on me.”

Harley managed it, fingers stiff with his nerves. He handled Claude roughly, but it felt amazing. His dick gave a twitch as Harley stroked him, and it got a little thicker. He still had some time before his pill wore off, but not forever, and he didn’t want to deal with the disappointment of it ending too soon.

“Lean against my chest. I’m going to open you up.” Claude popped the cap on the lube and coated his fingers. “Don’t come.”

“I’ll try,” Harley said, his voice thready and weak. He was limp against Claude’s chest, but that didn’t last long. Tension raced up his spine as Claude circled two fingers around his hole. His breath left in a small groan, and Claude basked in the sound.

“That’s right,” he murmured. He pushed one finger inside, feeling the way Harley squeezed around him. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get his cock inside this man. “You like that?”

“Mm. I like it. I really, really like it.”

It was the awe in his voice that had Claude wondering how often his shitty ex took time with Harley to learn him. How often had he spent time paying attention to what this gorgeous, perfect man needed? He was willing to bet everything he had to his name that the answer was none.

“Relax. Breathe. Just feel me,” Claude urged. He used his free hand to stroke up and down Harley’s spine until he went completely boneless. He turned his face, mouthing against Claude’s neck, groaning softly every time Claude managed to hit his prostate. “Just like that. Yes, mon chéri. Mon ange. You are so good.”

Harley’s moan sounded almost like a sob. His hips moved restlessly, seeking but not finding what he was looking for. And Claude was in no hurry to give him the climax he wanted. He added a second finger instead, stretching Harley wide, his cock twitching at the sound of the desperate moans escaping Harley’s throat.

“Enough now?” Claude asked after a short forever.

Harley nodded, lifting his head. His eyes were red and glazed, his lips parted on his panting breath. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

Harley looked almost afraid to ask for what he wanted. But Claude was patient. “I…I can’t say it. Please don’t make me.”

Claude half considered making him—pushing him—but he could see Harley was truly struggling, and he took pity on him. “Okay. It’s okay, chéri. You want me inside you?”

Harley bit his lip and nodded, his breath speeding up.

“Then lift up,” Claude said as he withdrew his fingers. As Harley lifted onto his knees, Claude took another dollop of lube and stroked himself through the condom. His cock was still stiff, still waiting. He held it in a firm grip, then used his other hand to guide Harley over him. “Just like that,” he said. He felt his dick catch Harley’s rim. “Yes, go ahead. Take it. Take me.”

Harley’s eyes closed, his head falling back on his shoulders as he sank down. He took Claude in an easy slide, his thighs trembling as he let his weight rest fully, and after a beat, he rolled his hips and let out a chest-deep moan.

“How does it feel.” Claude used his clean hand to touch Harley’s chin, urging his eyes to open. “Tell me, how does it feel now that my cock is stretching you open.”

“So good. I want to…to—” His voice dropped to silent, and his lips formed the word move .

Claude grinned. His legs were beginning to spasm a little, but he ignored them in favor of gripping Harley by the hips. “So move. Take what you want. I want to watch you get off on my dick.”

Harley’s eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but no words came. Instead, he lifted up until only the head of Claude’s dick was stretching him open, and then he sank back down. It was tender and slow the first time, then a little harder the second time.

“Yes,” Claude murmured. He pressed his hands to the tops of Harley’s thighs and met his gaze. “Take me. Harder. Faster.”

Harley obeyed, almost like he had no choice. His cheeks flushed red as his hips rose and fell, and Claude felt his orgasm rising—powerful and hot in the center of his chest. Coming was different now than it had been before the accident. Sometimes it wasn’t as good, but he was now starting to realize with the right person, it was so much better.

He’d never felt this way before. He couldn’t look away from Harley—from his parted lips, his flushed cheeks, the frantic expression on his face as he rolled his hips with every rise and fall, trying to find the right spot.

And when he did find it—when Claude’s cock grazed his prostate—the noise he let out carried through the entire house. Claude wouldn’t have been surprised if they heard it all the way up at the resort. Harley’s head dropped forward, bowed over Claude’s chest as he slammed down in rapid succession—over and over, thwap, thwap, thwap .

Skin against skin.

He was shuddering, punched-out moans being dragged from his chest. It took all of Claude’s restraint not to touch Harley’s weeping dick, but he knew he could do this. He knew he could come this way.

“Take it. Fuck yourself on my cock. Make yourself come.”

“I’m—I, oh ,” Harley babbled. His thighs trembled, and he ground down hard, rolling his hips. And then, as heat fully enveloped Claude from the force of his orgasm, he watched as Harley’s dick gave a hard throb, then hot, white spurts shot out, hitting Claude in the chest.

He fell back, boneless with a racing heart as Harley rode the last of his orgasm, and when it was over, he collapsed against the mess.

“Fuck,” Harley whispered in a trembling voice.

Claude grabbed him and held on tightly. He was terrified. Everything with this man felt so…right. It felt important—like if he let him go, he’d be spitting in the face of the universe for the gift it was giving him.

But logic and reason never listened to his intuition. He wasn’t ready to take the risk.

For now, he would just bask.

“Tell me you’re okay,” Claude murmured after a long while. Harley’s breathing was even, but it was still a little shallow.

“I don’t think I’ve come that hard before.”

Claude laughed. “Same.”

Lifting his face, Harley stared at Claude, his brow furrowed. He could feel Harley gently clenching around him. “You’re still hard.”

“I took something,” Claude reminded him. He traced a touch down Harley’s nose. There was a thick bump in the center, likely from where his glasses sat, and a constellation of freckles decorated his skin. “I don’t come the way you do anymore. Or, well, not very often.”

“But you did, right? Just now?”

“Oh, mon ame, I most certainly did.”

Harley bit his lower lip, then lowered his head back down. His ear was pressed to Claude’s chest, and then his fingers began to tap out the beat of his heart along Claude’s ribs. “Fast.”

“That was more exertion than I’ve had in a while. I might be a little out of shape.”

Harley snorted. “I guess we’ll need to do that again. Good for the heart and all.”

Claude laughed gently. It had been so, so long since he’d felt like this. Light, free. Happy? God, was this happy? He pushed his fingers into Harley’s hair. His curls caught, so he didn’t stroke—he just gently scratched at his scalp. He had a feeling if Harley could have, he would have been purring.

He arched into the touch like a man starved. Claude only knew because he felt the same way. He was surrounded by people who cared about him—people he considered family—but he was missing this. The easy, careless affection of someone who wanted to be held.

His chest ached at the thought of giving it up.

“I should get you cleaned up,” Claude murmured after a beat.

Harley lifted his head. “Yeah. Uh.” He licked his lips, and his gaze darted away. “Should I…do you want me to, you know? Go?”

Claude gripped him tightly again, then forced himself to loosen his hold. “No. I won’t be angry or upset if you need some space, but no. I’d like you to stay.”

Harley smiled shyly as he finally looked back into Claude’s eyes. “Then I’d like to stay.”

“Good. Let’s start the shower and clean up. The night’s still young, and I can think of several more ways we can feel good before we sleep.”