Wintering with George Read Online Mary Calmes

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
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My name in answer, over and over, like a prayer.

Releasing his length, I slid in fast and hard, thrusting to his core, the slide easy, without resistance. Shoving deeper, I pulled back and then again, knowing what he craved, the moans and pleading simply icing on the cake.

I loved being in bed with him. Sometimes it was like this, the rutting that made him scream, and other times it was slow and tender, the joining that was more about our communion. Whatever he wanted, needed, I gave him, and he did the same. It had been that way from the start. I’d never been able to tell another lover what I wanted, what I had to have in bed. How necessary it was for them to submit body and soul. Kurt had demanded my honesty and given me all I asked for. And I gave in return.

“You have to come for me,” I said into his ear, my chest pressed to his back.

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I love you,” I said, thrusting deep, pounding inside him, watching as his arms gave out and he went face-first onto the sheet.

His muscles clamped down, and I felt him shudder under me as I came hard, holding myself over him, my mouth open on his back.

He was taking deep breaths, and I worried for a moment that I’d hurt him. I tried to ease from his clenching hole, though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

“No,” he whispered. “Stay.”

I kissed his sweat-slicked skin and felt the tremble run through him. “You taste good.”

“I have cum running down my thighs.”

“Gonna need another shower,” I teased him.

“Like I care,” he said with a deep sigh, turning his head to look over his shoulder, stretching toward me, wanting the kiss but liking me where I was, still buried to my balls in his ass.

When I kissed him, he bit my lip so I couldn’t pull free.

I loved that.

SEVEN

When we finally made it back downstairs, both of us having taken another shower because smelling like cum would not go unnoticed by the adults, Thomasin was throwing Kurt’s breakfast away.

“I was going to eat that,” he groused at her.

“It was a shriveled mess. You need a sandwich.”

“I wanted—wait. What kind of sandwich?”

I laughed at him, and he glared back, but it was hard for him to keep it up since he loved me and he was still in his post-sex glow.

“Did you just get laid?” Thomasin asked her brother.

“Yeah. Can you tell?”

She smiled at him. “Your face is flushed, and your pupils are huge. You look stoned.”

He wrapped me in his arms and pressed his face into my shoulder.

“He’s a bit stoned,” I told Thomasin.

Her face was hard to read, somewhere between happy and terrified. “He loves you, George, and normally I would threaten anyone else with bodily harm, but you… I’m far too fond of you, and I owe you so much, and⁠—”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I reiterated, hugging Kurt tight, pressing him to my chest. “I said it before, but I won’t say it again.”

We stared at each other.

“It’s a known thing,” I told her. “You’re my family. I’m going to marry him. So we’re not gonna talk about this again.”

Her breath caught. “You’re going to get married?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at me expectantly.

“Not today,” I said, growling at her.

Huge smile from her. “Oh, George, I just love you.”

No one had loved me. Not before Kurt. Not really. My friends did, but it wasn’t the same. Because only Kurt loving me had changed me. And I didn’t want to be changed, not at first. Loving people opened you up to all kinds of hurt and disappointment. Or so I thought.

But the thing was, lately, no one had been letting me down. Kurt didn’t. Never had. Hannah loved me, I would have been stupid not to know that, and she was constant in her adoration and devoted to my continued well-being. My friends and colleagues, they all cared deeply, and though none of us were big on communication, there were invitations that happened and checking in that was new. Loving Kurt had done something to my brain chemistry, and everyone knew it and saw it and appreciated the new and improved George Hunt.

If I wasn’t so happy, I’d be disgusted with myself.

It was terrifying to care and have people care in return. Super frightening to not want to disappoint others. I had no idea how people did it their whole lives. I had only been at it the last couple of years, and that shit was exhausting.

And now here was Thomasin staring at me, biting her trembling lower lip, unable to put the fear of God into me because she wanted me for her brother, and her family, so very desperately.

“I’m not going anywhere, so just—can we not?”


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