“You’re going to be the death of me,” I say, sliding an arm around his chest, pulling him to me as I kiss the top of his head.
“There’s something about you that makes me want to play. To explore,” he says, wonder in his voice. “This last year has been amazing and horrible and revelatory, and so, so good. But so goddamn hard.”
His voice cracks, so I tighten my hold on him.
“But this here with you… it feels like you’ve been slowly stitching me back together. If you had told me that some British man with a title could feel so warm and wonderful, I would have called you a liar.”
My heart thuds heavily at his words, and the world spins a little more slowly.
“I’m glad I can surprise you,” I say, running my hands up and down his chest. “I knew you were warm and wonderful from the second I met you.”
He twists to look up at me, followed by his body. Our cum is everywhere, but I can only focus on the serious expression in his eyes.
“You gave me time to heal. You’re the reason I didn’t let myself get pulled down into the dark reality of my cousin’s history. You helped Ant, and for that you will have my eternal gratitude. But you broughtmeback to life, and I hope to pay you back for that favor for as long as you’ll let me.”
I can’t quite unhook the fear in my heart that he doesn’t yet understand how much I adore him already, so I kiss him until we’re both desperate for oxygen.
“What do you have planned for today?” I ask, then kiss him again before he can answer.
We writhe against each other, lubricated by our cum, not quite hard. It feels amazing.
Finally, he pulls away, his mouth slick and red with abuse. “Our big Christmas tradition is a tamale breakfast with all the fixings and sides. So, today’s the day we make an assembly line and build the tamales. We put on my grandmother’s favorite Mexican standards and sing along as she judges our masa to meat ratios and the tightness of our tamales,” he explains between pillowy kisses all over my face.
“I can see how the right ratios and rolling technique could make a difference,” I say as his lips find mine again.
“Have you actually had tamales before?” He grunts as I grab one of his tiny, round ass cheeks.
“Oh, yes,” I say, sucking lightly on his neck. I’d love to leave a mark, but I don’t want to horrify his mother. “I love all different kinds of tamales. A friend of mine from Veracruz uses skinless, bone-in chicken thighs. Instead of corn husks, he uses banana leaves wrapped with twine.”
Gael nods, sucking on my earlobe. “I love those, too. But the tiny tamales are my favorite.”
“Have you had the rough corn masa ones from New Mexico?” I ask, wrapping my legs around his.
He shakes his head.
“We’ll have to go to Santa Fe together one of these days,” I say, brushing his hair away from his face.
“Okay,” he answers softly, dipping down to nurse at my nipple.
My cock twitches and I let out a low groan, wishing I could go again so quickly. He switches to the other nipple, and even though the cum starts to get sticky, I don’t want to be doing anything else.
Just as I’m imagining what his perfect little ass will taste like on my tongue, my phone goes off, the ringtone all too familiar.
He pulls away from my nipple with a pop. “Who’s that?” he asks, pressing on the line between my eyebrows.
“My sister.” The answer throws a bucket of cold water on my libido. Beatrice is one of a handful of people set to bypass my do not disturb setting. “She wouldn’t call unless…” I unlock my phone to find that since turning off my phone last night I’ve missed dozens of messages from my father.
I hit the Accept button.
“Bea?”
“Tolly,” she says, relief in her voice.
“I’m just now waking up. I’m in Texas. What have I missed?”
“Texas? Why are you in Texas? I thought you were coming home for Christmas.”
“No. I said that I might be there for New Year’s.”
