Hearth and Home (6 page)

Lost in his thoughts, Bayberry didn’t hear Thistle’s approach.

“I thought you might like another glass of wine. It’s really rather good,” Thistle said softly as he held out Bayberry’s flute.

Bayberry shook his head to clear his thoughts and accepted the glass. “Yes, thank you. Now I see why Mrs. Claus asks you to help out in the kitchens so much. Everything was amazing, and the peaches-and-cream pie was the perfect answer to my sweet tooth,” Bayberry said. He gestured to the seat next to him, and Thistle sat, curling bare feet beneath him as he did so. Bayberry chuckled as he wrapped his arm around Thistle’s shoulders. “You really don’t like shoes, do you?”

Thistle made a face, and Bayberry laughed harder as he set his wine glass on the end table. “No, shoes are yucky. Why are you so obsessed with my bare feet?”

“It’s not your feet I’m obsessed with, although they are adorable,” Bayberry murmured as he curled a finger under Thistle’s chin and lifted Thistle’s face until their eyes met. Giving Thistle plenty of time to say no, Bayberry leaned down and kissed him gently. He brushed his lips back and forth, knowing how sensitive that would make Thistle, and wasn’t disappointed when he received that lovely little gasp. He licked and nibbled and stroked until Thistle opened, and then Bayberry thrust his tongue deep, searching for the flavor that was uniquely Thistle.

With a groan, Bayberry pulled Thistle onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He was answered with a delicious moan as Thistle writhed and wriggled until he was straddling Bayberry’s lap. His slender hips rocked forward, sending pleasure rocketing through Bayberry’s body as their straining erections pressed together through their breeches. He wanted Thistle naked—now. However, if he didn’t stop Thistle’s movements, things were going to be over before they started, because Bayberry was about five seconds from cumming hard in his pants.

Bayberry grabbed Thistle’s hips, stilling their movements. A whimper of protest vibrated against his mouth. He pulled back and nuzzled Thistle’s neck, a fierce pleasure shooting through him when Thistle tilted his head to give Bayberry greater access to his neck. “Shhh,” Bayberry murmured against Thistle’s skin. “I needed us to slow down. Otherwise, I was going to cum in my pants when I want to cum inside you.”

Thistle groaned and tried to move his hips again. “I want that too. You, inside me.”

“By the stars, you’re going to undo me,” Bayberry said, gripping Thistle’s hips tighter. He knew he was going to leave marks on Thistle’s pale skin, and a fierce sense of pride filled him.

“Bayberry,” Thistle whimpered.

For a split second, Bayberry’s rational brain tried to get them to slow down. It was quickly overridden when Thistle yanked Bayberry’s head up to kiss him. Bayberry groaned at the unexpected aggressiveness. He liked an aggressive Thistle. He liked it a lot.

As he stood, Bayberry wrapped his arms around Thistle, holding him close. Long, lean legs locked around his waist, and Thistle’s arms encircled his neck. Bayberry pulled back long enough to ask, “Bedroom?”

Thistle pointed toward a small hallway to the left between the living room and the kitchen, next to the door leading to the patio.

Bayberry followed his directions. His attention was focused on Thistle and wringing every whimper and moan he could from him. When his shins hit the bed, Bayberry kept one arm around Thistle while the other caught their combined weight to slow their momentum. He didn’t want to crush Thistle beneath him—at least, not like that.

Laces were loosed and clothing was pushed aside. Bayberry and Thistle wriggled and twisted until they were both naked. The first touch of skin to skin made them gasp. Bayberry marveled at how silky Thistle’s skin felt. He wanted to kiss and lick every inch. He became fascinated with the dusky brown discs that adorned Thistle’s chest. He latched on to one nipple, sucking and licking it with his tongue while he flicked and pinched its mate. Thistle’s cries and whimpers made his cock harder, if that were possible.

Precum, both his and Thistle’s, slicked Bayberry’s belly. Each shift of his torso wrung a moan from Thistle, much to Bayberry’s delight. Yet there was something else he wanted, and so Bayberry moved away from Thistle’s nipples, a little reluctantly. He was sure he could make Thistle cum just by playing with the delightful little nubs, but that was a theory he could explore another time.

Thistle wasn’t an overly muscular elf. He was lean and sleek. Where Bayberry could visibly see his own six-pack in clear definition, Thistle’s was subtle, but no less sexy. The almost soft lines of Thistle’s Adonis belt, those delectable muscles that led in a lovely V-shape directly to Bayberry’s prize, were another turn-on for Bayberry, and he treated them to long licks before giving his attention to an up-close-and-personal study of Thistle’s cock.

And what a lovely cock it was too. Bayberry actually salivated as he slowly wrapped first his fingers and then his lips around the head and then slid down the long, thick shaft. When he flicked his tongue into the tiny slit, Thistle’s body bucked violently off the bed. Fingers tangled tightly in Bayberry’s hair, causing stinging bites of pain that only added to Bayberry’s pleasure. He liked having his hair pulled just enough to sting, but not enough to cause real pain.

“More, Bayberry.” Thistle moaned, his head tossing back and forth on the mattress.

Bayberry hummed in agreement, causing another wave of bucking and moaning. He rode out Thistle’s movements, took a breath, and then slowly slid Thistle deep into his throat. Then Bayberry swallowed and Thistle screamed. Gush after gush of hot, salty liquid slid down Bayberry’s throat, and he continued to swallow, savoring the taste as he slowly withdrew, dragging out Thistle’s orgasm until he was a shivering mass on the bed. As if he were a cat with a fresh bowl of cream, Bayberry licked Thistle clean. Each stroke of his tongue sent aftershocks racing over luminescent flesh.

“Such sounds you make,” Bayberry said with a low chuckle. “They’re better than sugar cookies.”

I
F
T
HISTLE
could have formed a coherent thought, he might have laughed at being compared to a dessert. If he had any higher brain function, he might have attempted to return the favor. As it was, he could barely remember how to breathe. His entire body tingled with sated pleasure. Little shocks of sensation rippled over his skin, making him gasp and whimper.

“That… was amazing,” Thistle whispered when he could form words again. He looked down his body to see Bayberry with his forearms crossed over the saddle of Thistle’s hips and his chin resting on his arms. Bayberry looked entirely too pleased with himself. Thistle could just feel the dopey smile on his own face, and heat filled his cheeks.

“You are amazing,” Bayberry said, his voice soft in the quiet that surrounded them.

“What about you?” Thistle asked a little breathlessly as Bayberry’s fingers lightly drew designs on his hips.

A long, slow lick along the underside of his soft cock was the only answer Thistle received.

Thistle moaned and gripped the sheets. A part of him wanted to taste Bayberry the way Bayberry had tasted him. The other part kept saying “later.” When his legs were pushed up and apart, baring his opening to Bayberry’s hot gaze, both parts agreed to shut up and enjoy. The tongue bathing his scrotum, and his tender bits sucked inside warm, wet heat narrowed Thistle’s world to Bayberry. Teasing touches and flicks against his perineum had Thistle squirming, bucking his hips, and lifting his ass closer to the delightful sensation.

“You like that,” Bayberry murmured against the sensitive skin of his taint.

“Yes,” Thistle breathed. “Feels so good.”

“It’s going to get better,” Bayberry said.

Thistle’s reply was cut off by the tip of Bayberry’s tongue swirling around his anus. Minute forays of Bayberry’s tongue had Thistle emitting short little cries of pleasure. Then that lovely appendage pushed past his opening and Thistle promptly forgot his name. Each gentle thrust pushed Thistle closer and closer to the edge. His cock eagerly joined the party, hardening and dribbling precum to pool on his skin. Thistle cried out Bayberry’s name, scrabbling with his hands to hold on to something and only succeeding in pulling the sheet from the edges of the bed.

He vaguely recalled Bayberry asking about supplies. Thistle must have answered correctly because the next thing he felt was a cool, slick finger circling his hole. Teasing pressure made Thistle’s body clench each time the digit pressed but didn’t penetrate his ass.

“Breathe, Thistle,” Bayberry murmured, his voice low and husky. “Let me in, love.”

Thistle could only nod as he took a deep breath and relaxed his body. That finger pushed deeper and then slowly retreated, only to return for more. Each push was followed by a pull, and Thistle wondered at Bayberry’s gentleness. No one had taken such care with him before, and to have Bayberry do so only made Thistle love him more. A second finger joined the first, sending Thistle’s mind spinning again. Thistle cried out.

“Yes… there, right there,” he yelled as Bayberry stroked that spot within him again.

“Found it,” Bayberry said.

Two became three, and Thistle couldn’t tell which way was up. More importantly, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to have Bayberry inside him, fucking him through the mattress until he couldn’t walk. He wanted to be reminded of this night for the next week. “Please, Bayberry,” he whined, thrusting back on those talented fingers.

Thistle released a blissful sigh as he felt the bulbous head of Bayberry’s cock press at the entrance to his body. He grasped the backs of his knees and splayed his legs wider in offering. He had no idea of the picture he presented to Bayberry or how it would inspire Bayberry in the future. All he knew was the feel of Bayberry’s cock pressing against him, pushing past the ring of muscle, and settling for a moment inside him.

“Are you okay?” Bayberry asked, and Thistle could hear the tremble in his voice. It told him Bayberry’s control was shaky at best.

“Yes,” Thistle said with a nod before rocking his hips down to take Bayberry farther. “I’ll feel better when I feel all of you deep inside me.”

“As you wish,” Bayberry said, and then he began to thrust, slipping deeper and deeper into Thistle until his balls pressed against Thistle’s ass. “Better, love?”

“Much.” Thistle moaned as his body stretched to accommodate Bayberry’s cock. He felt so full, so stretched, and it was wonderful. In the back of his mind, Thistle knew the sensation was probably exaggerating his ideas of how big Bayberry’s shaft was, but it didn’t matter. Bayberry fit inside him perfectly. With Bayberry’s body touching him from ass to ankle, Thistle could feel how Bayberry’s body shook.

“I… I can’t….” Bayberry said. “I have to… move.”

“Yes,” Thistle cried out as Bayberry set a steady, energetic pace.

He opened his eyes to see Bayberry above him, supported on those strong arms that crafted glass with such delicacy and care. They locked gazes for a few moments before Bayberry swooped down and took his mouth as forcefully as he was claiming Thistle’s body.

Thistle loved it. Thistle loved him. Thistle loved Bayberry.

T
IGHT
,
HOT
,
and perfect, that’s what Thistle was. His body pulled at Bayberry, milking him, squeezing him with each push and pull of his hips, and Bayberry loved it. He took Thistle’s mouth, thrusting his tongue deep as he fucked into Thistle’s ass. Yes, this was where he wanted to be for a long, long time—maybe forever. More than likely forever. It would take forever for him to give up the feel of being buried inside Thistle.

Bayberry’s orgasm came upon him sooner than it normally would. The tingle at the base of his spine went from just a tingle to a rocket launch of sensation. His balls drew up, pressing tight against his body, and his pace began to stutter until everything clenched and tightened. Hot seed splashed against his belly as Thistle came again, triggering his own orgasm with very little effort. Crying out, Bayberry threw back his head, sending his hair flying, and thrust hard into Thistle, his cock pulsing, jerking, and spraying his cum deep inside Thistle’s body. The tight, hot grip of Thistle’s body refused to release him. Long legs pulled him closer, locking around his waist. Thistle fed voraciously at his mouth, his arms tight around Bayberry’s neck. Bayberry collapsed against him, pushing Thistle deep into the mattress as their combined orgasm sapped them of all else.

Hot breath puffed against his neck, stirring his hair. The scent of Thistle thoroughly invaded his lungs. All Bayberry could smell was himself, Thistle, and sex—delicious, glorious sex with Thistle. He didn’t want to move, but Bayberry knew he had to. He was no lightweight, and he didn’t want to crush Thistle.

Surprisingly, Thistle tightened his arms around Bayberry’s neck, refusing to let go. “If I let go, you’ll disappear and this will all be just another dream,” Thistle whispered against his neck, sending tingles to all Bayberry’s nerve endings.

“I’m very real, Thistle,” Bayberry assured as he slipped his arms beneath Thistle’s back and rolled until he was on his own. “Or can’t you feel me still inside you?”

Thistle just shook his head and refused to look at Bayberry. Bayberry sighed and held Thistle until they both drifted off to sleep. He was just going to have to prove to Thistle that he was real, that this wasn’t a dream. He could do that.

A
RAY
of sunshine warmed his face and brought him back to wakefulness. Bayberry blinked a couple of times, trying to orient himself. He didn’t recognize the room for a moment, but he immediately knew the weight on his chest and the delicious scent filling his nose: Thistle. He was in Thistle’s house, in Thistle’s bed, with Thistle lying over him like the sexiest blanket in the world.

Bayberry studied Thistle. Long lashes that would be the envy of any woman fanned over Thistle’s high cheekbones. His lips, parted in slumber, were still slightly plump from being kissed. Purple strands of silky hair spread over Thistle’s back and down their sides, brushing against Bayberry’s skin lightly with each breath he took. One hand was curled beneath Thistle’s chin, and Bayberry could feel the other one tangled in his own hair, holding tight. Bayberry smiled as he heard the most adorable little snore come from Thistle.