A full-body shiver wracked through me, his words attacking me on a molecular level. There was no other choice. My pleasure belonged to him. There were no doubts about that.
On my next inhale, I prayed the entire world had noise cancellation on. Broken, but mighty, I screamed from deep within my chest. “Price! Please, Price. I need it!”
His fingers and hands worked in tandem. Downstroke as he pushed against my prostate, upstroke when he pulled them out. Down, up. Down, up. I pushed my face into the mattress, my breathing choppier and heavier as I was pushed closer and closer to Heaven. A place I’d never been to but fantasized about many times.
The masterpiece came back, brighter than before. This time, my eyes were wide open when it appeared. My muscles tensed together as my lungs seized, the air getting stuck in my throat as pleasure built and built. My jaw ached as I opened it, my body practically convulsing on Price’s fingers as my cock throbbed with ropes and ropes of cum that spilled beneath me. I felt myself clench and unclench repeatedly, fluttering around him as I began to slow to a dribble.
When I finally took a breath, the world began to spin. I was dizzy and wrung out. Price let me slump down, falling onto the bed with an ungracefulthump.
He was whispering something. I was too gone to understand him for a while. He left at some point, returning with what felt like a towel to rub over my skin.
I rolled over when prompted, jerking slightly when he ran the towel over my thigh. I could hear him then.
“Sorry, baby. Had to clean you up. You did so good, Crew. So fucking good for me.”
The words were warm. Not as hot as fire or as threatening as lava. Just warm like late summer nights in the country when our shitty window unit stopped working.
Comforting. Nostalgic, almost.
And when Price began to kiss all over my skin, resting his lips longer than necessary on my cheeks, I felt complete in a way. He pecked me over and over. The tip of my nose, the end of my chin, just beside the corner of my mouth.
I was curled onto my side, suddenly enveloped in Price’s hold. It was strong. Sure. Confident. I had been craving it without ever noticing it.
His hand rubbed up and down my side, detouring every now and then to splay across my stomach. Time waited for us. It didn’t pass us by, or disappear, or suddenly stop. The world understood what we needed more than we did. I opened my eyes, staring at the windows. My curtains weren’t shut yet. It was dark aside from the glaring city lights and a hint of the moon.
My room was my favorite in the house, not only because it was mine, but because of the view I had of the sky. Whether it was the moon, the sun, or an empty void, I’d always had something to keep me company. When I opened my box of secrets, I kept the curtains wide open. I’d sob under whatever light the sky would offer me. Sometimes, if I looked up, I could swear I saw Mom.
She’d be high up there, smiling down at me. Like looking in the mirror, except her hair was a golden halo where mine was an intimidating forest. I think it was the universe’s way of apologizing to me. That, or I was crazier than I thought.
Light specks flurried over the windows. They caught the light just so that I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. I squinted, moving as close as I could without rolling off the bed.
Price’s strokes stopped on my side. “You good?” he asked from behind me.
I nodded. A slow, almost freeing grin crept up on my face. I moved out of Price’s hold, planting my feet onto the cold hardwood floor. Pressed as close to the window as possible, I looked up.
The moon and I stared at each other. I wondered if Willow was watching. I wondered if Mom would show up even though I wasn’t crying. Whispering against the glass, I tracked an errant snowflake as it fell. “It’s snowing.”
“Is it?”
“Just a little bit, but yeah. Come look.”
Pricecame to stand beside me, our bare shoulders grazing each other. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah. Reminds me of Christmas.”
“Do you like Christmas?” He wasn’t looking at the snow anymore. I could feel his gaze on me.
I huffed something close to a laugh. It was strained and raw. My voice caught in my throat with it, wobbling unnaturally. “Reminds me of my mom. Willow and I haven’t really celebrated it since she died.”
“I bet that’s hard.”
“Harder for Willow. She loved Christmas. Still does.” The glass was cold, just like the floor beneath my feet. I traced a fingertip down the pane, following a trail of melted snow that ran down it. “What about you? Do you like Christmas?”
He tilted his head, his skin glowing from the lights. Price looked beautiful. Ethereal. Strong. “My answer is a bit complicated, too. We always went to my grandma’s house for holidays. She died when I was young, and I wasn’t all that close to her. Once she passed, holidays became a chore. That, and Dad was so deep in his addiction that they became an afterthought more than anything.”
“I’m sorry. People will preach about the importance of family and love on holidays, only to turn around and make it all about them.” I pulled the curtain closed. With Price’s hand in mine, I led us back to the bed.
The moment we hit the mattress, I was caged in by Price’s arms. He held me the same way he had months ago, like I was precious. Something to be cherished. I’d never thought too hard about it during our cuddle sessions. If I had, I think I would’ve broken a long time ago.
