With Bells On

by Jane Davitt


"I can hear bells." Jim glanced around the loft. "Is this the first sign I'm losing it, or -- no, judging by that grin on your face, there's another explanation."

He walked toward Blair, who was lying sprawled out on the couch, making it a prowl, his eyes narrowed, just to see Blair's grin widen even as his body betrayed his interest in a dozen unmistakable ways.

Of course, who needed a dozen when Blair's erection was right there, the tight jeans showcasing it blatantly, as well as…

"Oh, my God." Jim shook his head incredulously. "Tell me you didn't."

Blair all but fucking purred, arching his hips and looking like every present Jim had ever wanted to unwrap rolled into one. "I did."

"You peeked," Jim accused him. He debated standing by the couch and looming but no, he had to get closer. He sank to his knees and folded his arms across his chest to stop himself giving into temptation and touching. "I told you not to look in that closet."

"You hadn't wrapped it." Blair shrugged. "Fair game."

"You little…"

Blair stroked the denim-clad bulge and Jim heard the muted jingle of bells again from the ornamented cock ring. It had been an impulse buy but he'd loved the idea of the bells swinging from Blair's cock, the silvery jangle all but lost in Blair's moans and full-throated cries as he fucked him hard and deep, then sounding gently as Blair rolled over and snuggled in close. "Yeah," Blair said complacently. "I've been really naughty. I'm a bad, bad Blair."

"Wait here," Jim said, ominously enough to get a blink of surprise from Blair. He headed upstairs, taking his time. It didn't take long for him to find what he wanted among a heap of presents with Blair's name on, and even if it was three days before Christmas, well, Blair might have been naughty, but he'd been very good, hadn't he? Sure he had.

He went back to the couch and handed Blair a flat box, gift-wrapped in white with a single crimson ribbon crossing it. "Since you want your presents early…"

Blair bit his lip and looked a little, just a little, uncertain.

"Open it," Jim ordered and watched Blair's tongue flick out to wet his lips before he obeyed.

The crop looked wickedly beautiful, elegantly cruel. Jim didn't plan to leave a mark that would last longer than an hour, if that, but he was starting to think that he might not even get in a single stroke. The way Blair was reacting to just holding it, he was going to come at the first drag of leather over his upturned ass.

Well, that worked, too.

"Upstairs," Jim said softly, after treating himself to a kiss on Blair's open, eager mouth. "And take your jeans off first; I want to hear you make some noise."

Blair did just that, and ran upstairs, jingling all the way.


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