Snowed in for Christmas

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Jett

BEN GAPES UP AT me, his lips softly parted. He blinks behind his glasses, and I pluck the damn things off, setting them aside so they won’t get in my way.

Not that I plan to spend much time on his mouth.

This might be crashing toward oblivion, but I’m not letting it go before I’ve gotten a taste of him, a real taste of him. If he’s never even kissed before, he’s definitely never had someone suck him off before. The moment I realized that, I knew I was going to give him a blowjob the likes of which he’ll never forget. If we only get one brief chance at this, you better believe I’m going to make it count.

“A-Are you sure that’s something you want to do?” Ben says.

“God, yes,” I say. “Are you joking?”

“I … I never knew if the one doing the, uh, sucking actually enjoyed it or performed it out of obligation.”

“Ben, I swear to you, I have never done anything in bed I didn’t want to do,” I say. “And I really, really want to do this.”

My eyes flicker down, even though he’s all bundled up in sweatpants and sweaters like me. When I look back up, the most gorgeous flush has stolen into Ben’s cheeks. He presses his lips together, but it’s not enough to push down the heat crawling up his neck.

I cup his face, stroking my thumb along his cheek. As I bend down, I say, nearly against his lips, “You’re never going to be able to forget this, baby.”

Then I kiss him, soaking up his little murmur of surprise. At first, he simply lies there and accepts it, then his hands wrap around my back, fingers clinging to my sweater in a sudden surge of desire. I marvel all over again at how open and expressive he can be in the right circumstances. It’s like a whole other side of Ben that no one in the entire world has seen except for me. I store it away in a corner of my heart, knowing I might need to rely on pure memory soon. I sear his little noises, his clinging fingers, his soft, open lips into my body, swearing to myself I’ll never forget them no matter what happens in the coming days.

I try to shove thoughts of the future aside, but they’ve chased me all day like a mountain lion stalking me through the forest. It’s a matter of time before they pounce and devour me. The snow is melting. The pass will open. Our parents will arrive. And we will be two random guys whose parents are dating. Sure, we aren’t related. We aren’t even step-brothers. But it would still be too weird for us to go near each other outside of these stolen moments trapped in this house in the snow.

I’m going to make the most of this. I’m going to live in this moment for as long as I can. Ben might like to worry about the future, but I don’t. All I care about is now.

I pull away from his mouth, sweet as it is, and start trailing down his neck. Ben sighs as I suck on his neck. I pull his collar aside, searching for the mark I left there yesterday, and tug at it with my teeth. Ben shudders, hands clinging more tightly until I let go and lick over the mark.

“Is it wrong that I wish that mark would never fade?” I say.

“Yes,” Ben says, breathy, struggling, yet still analytical, logical Ben underneath. “But I wish it wouldn’t either.”

I lower my lips back to the tiny splotch of redness where his neck and collar meet, kissing it like it’s some talisman for good luck. It probably won’t even last until morning, and for an insane moment, I want to make it worse, want to suck until the skin bruises.

Ben must sense my intention. A hand grips my shoulder, and he pushes a little to get my attention.

“Don’t,” he says. “You can’t. We couldn’t cover it up.”

Of course. Of course we couldn’t. It’s on his neck near his collar, just high enough that a T-shirt might reveal it. We can’t let our parents see a thing like that. There would be no plausible explanation outside of the obvious.

But that is not the only place where I can mark him.

I comply, leaving his neck alone and working my way downward instead. I can feel Ben watching me, his anxiety about yet another new experience refusing to allow him to relax. That simply sounds like a challenge to me. I got him out of his head the other times, and I’m going to manage it tonight as well.

When I reach his sweatpants, I gaze up at him, meeting his eyes as I tease the elastic waistband. Ben props himself up on his elbows, watching my every move, but he lifts his hips as I tug on his sweatpants, letting me lower the garment to his knees.

I won’t expose him more than that. Now that it’s night, tendrils of cold seep in from every side, even here beside the fire. The flames can only protect us for so long.

I lower my head, kissing one thin, creamy thigh. Hair tickles my chin, and my scruffy beard produces a laugh as it scrapes along delicate skin. Ben jerks, ticklish, but I sink my teeth gently into his skin as the laughter softens to a sigh. Then I suck — hard. As hard as I wish I could have sucked on his neck. I tug at the skin while Ben groans and squirms. I pull away with a long pop, admiring the bright red mark on his inner thigh.

“Christ, Jett, that’s going to be there for days,” Ben says. He’s panting, every word ragged, and his cock is so hard I could probably blow on it and get him to come.

“I know,” I say. “That’s the point.”

His eyes widen a bit.

“I can’t do it to your neck, but no one but you will see this one,” I say. “And you’ll know you’re mine, regardless of how we have to pretend in front of everyone else. You’ll never be able to forget this night. You can’t tell yourself it wasn’t real when the evidence is right there on your body.”

He watches me, lips parted, eyebrows drawing toward each other. “Jett, I would never forget. Never. I promise you that. Nothing could make me forget this.”

I want to kiss him again, kiss him so hard he can’t even breathe, kiss him until his lips and mine are molded around each other. He always speaks as though he’s saying something obvious, but none of that was obvious to me — and I suspect he has no idea how much it means.

I dive to my task before emotion can overwhelm me. If there’s one thing I’ve always been a genius at, it’s turning emotions into physical actions, and that’s what I mean to do as I sink between his legs and angle his cock at my mouth.

He sucks in a breath when I grab him. I lick a stripe along the underside of his shaft, tongue bumping over the engorged veins. At the top, I swirl my tongue around him, lazy, indulgent laps before I finally close my lips around his head.

He groans, the sound shifting as he apparently drops his head back. He’s still on his elbows, but that will end if I do this right.

And I always do this right.

I sink down him slowly, taking my time, drawing the whole thing out, letting him feel my lips around every inch of him. Letting myself feel every inch of him, too. If this is the only time I ever get him in my mouth, I’m going to make damn sure I savor it. He lies thick and heavy on my tongue, his cock filling up my mouth just right. People might not suspect a nerdy guy like him has such a perfect dick. Hell, even I was surprised that first time I got a good look at his body. He’s been hiding something tasty from the whole world, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a thrill being the only one who knows this secret.

I slide all the way down to my hand, swallowing him whole. I don’t let him adjust, riding right back up him, sucking as I go. Ben groans and groans above me, labored breaths breaking free in between the noises.

I sink down a little harder, a little faster, teasing him, and the carpet crunches as he seizes at it with his fingers. I squeeze him at the base, taking him even harder and faster the next time, using my tongue to lick at him as I go.

Finally, Ben cracks.

A thump sounds as he drops from his elbows flat onto his back, incapable of holding himself up any longer. A hand dives for my hair, tangling in the shaggy strands. I moan as his clutching fingers send a tingle down my spine. He spreads his legs as wide as he can with his sweatpants around his knees, giving me space to work, opening up his whole body to me.

I don’t need to be told twice to get to work when I get an invitation like that.

I plunge down him, taking him deeper, breathing through the tickle of gag reflex. It’s something I’ve worked through before, and for people who deserved it way less, so it’s not hard to push past it. Besides, Ben’s hand tightens the moment I take him that way, his moan loud enough to echo around the high ceilings. I want to fill this whole house with his noises, clutter and warm the space with his sweet voice until we don’t even need the fire anymore.

“Jett,” he gasps. “Oh God, Jett, why does that feel so good?”

Because I’m God damn good at it, for one thing. Because I’m taking him as deep as I can. Because I’m not doing this as a chore or an obligation, but because there’s nothing I want more in this world than his cock filling my mouth.

I moan around him instead of responding. Then I play my final trump card. I remove my hand from where it was steadying him, allowing myself to sink even deeper.

Clearly, Ben wasn’t expecting it. Clearly, he believed I’d gone as deep as I could go. The moment I go a full inch deeper, he shouts at the ceiling, his hips jerking up at me, his entire body twisting and writhing around a burst of pleasure. It almost does manage to gag me, but I breathe through it, insisting on holding deep, insisting on drawing this bliss out of him. It’s so God damn sweet, so delicious, so precious. I come up, but only for a moment, only long enough that he might forget the feeling a little. Then I plunge down him until my nose is in his hair, and I breathe deeply, and I swallow.

Ben shatters.

He cries out wordlessly, nearly tearing out a chunk of my hair out as his whole body pushes toward me. He explodes into my mouth without warning, but I simply keep swallowing, taking it all down, pinning him in this moment of pleasure until every agonizing beat pulses through him and down my waiting throat.

When I finally come up for air, Ben lies panting on the carpet, eyes glassy, mouth open, limbs so limp he could be a doll tossed carelessly to the floor. I wipe at my mouth and smile, gently tugging his sweatpants back up before he can get cold. Then I lie on the floor with him, snuggling in close as he shivers not from cold, but from reverberations of pleasure. I soak up every tremble, every physical reminder that it was me who made him feel this good.

For several minutes, nothing but the crackle of the fire and his ragged breathing disturbs the house. I nearly believe he’s fallen asleep, then he gasps and grabs for the arm I set across his chest.

“Jett, my God, I-I’m so sorry,” he says. “I haven’t even… Should I…”

“Shhh,” I say. “You’re in no state to do anything like that.”

“But that’s not exactly fair.”

“When did I say I cared about fair?” I push up so I can gaze down at him, stroking his hair off his forehead. “And how is this unfair when I loved every second of it, huh? You’re too limp to do anything but lie here and let me hold you, and that’s all I want.”

He watches me as though he doubts my words, as though he’s searching for a lie. He won’t find it. Sure, my dick is hard, but I’ll live. What matters now is him, is this.

I settle back down, lying on my side on the floor so I can pull him in against my chest. We cuddle in front of the fire, watching the flames flicker, holding each other while there’s still time.