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I couldn’t help my laugh, and I used my other hand to drag him close, eliminating the space between us. His cock was trapped against my hand, between our stomachs, and I gently rocked into him. “Yes, Misha. I want you to put your cock in my ass and fuck me with it. Have you ever topped before?”
Misha snorted, and I felt him push up onto his elbow. “Have you ever bottomed?”
I bit my lip, then shook my head as I released him to touch his cheek. “No. I haven’t.”
He went entirely still, though I could feel the gentle puffs of his breath against my face, and the pulse of his need and curiosity in the bond. “Oh.”
I traced the line of his jaw, then the shape of his lips. “I want to be filled by you, Misha. I…” I squeezed my eyes shut, and though it made no difference in my darkness, it still gave me the courage to say the words. “I love you. I’m falling in love with you. And I know we’re not supposed to think about tonight, but I need this. And I need you to understand why.”
He swallowed, and I heard it stick in his throat before he grabbed me by the wrist and pressed my palm harder against his cheek. He leaned in close, his nose rubbing against mine. “I don’t want this to feel like a goodbye.”
It did—and it didn’t. Mostly it felt like hope, and it was a promise that I would take something with me if the worst happened. I didn’t say any of that though. I just let the feeling surrounding those words push into him. I felt him shudder before his lips met mine again.
“I love you,” he said again, and I wondered if I’d ever get tired of hearing it. I wondered if maybe he was saying it now, so often, just in case.
I hoarded each word where my aching heart beat, and I allowed him to roll me onto my side. It was strange for me to be on this side of things—I had sucked off lovers, and I had let them spill between my thighs, but I’d never let anyone close like this. Of course, there had hardly been time for more than a quick rut as it was, but even if there had been, I would have turned away from intimacy.
Now, it was all I wanted.
Misha’s hands were nervous as he dragged them down my sides, then to my backside. He parted the globes of my ass and nosed along my crack, and I couldn’t help but wonder how his sense of smell had changed. Was it more now? Powerful the way it was for Wolves?
His tongue licked at my hole, a tentative press before he grew bolder. I was probably too tight for him, and I had no slick to ease the way, but he was persistent, and the moment his tongue breeched the first ring of muscle, I let out a shout.
My cock twitched hard, and I thrust against the bed as he pushed in again, and then again.
And again.
“Enough,” I begged. I was too close just feeling him there with his mouth, and I wanted all of it. I didn’t want to let go until he was buried inside me.
“It’ll be easier on your back,” he told me, kissing my shoulder as he rolled me over. “And I need to find some lube, I’m assuming.”
I snorted a soft laugh. “Orion had the place stocked, so I’m willing to bet he left something in the bathroom.”
I’d explored a little, but most of the bottles all felt the same to me, and I was only halfway through with my labels. But it didn’t matter when I had an Omega willing and ready to let me take him at any hour of the day.
I thought back to the night before, to the way I sank inside him—the wetness, the heat surrounding me. With a groan, I grabbed my cock and stroked slowly as I listened to him rummage around the cabinets.
“Yes,” he murmured, and I couldn’t help a small chuckle as his bare feet tapped across the floor. The bed dipped with the weight of his body, then his free hand gently pried my knees apart, pushing one up toward my chest.
The position was more vulnerable than I’d ever been. My senses fought against it for a moment, but my desire for him was too intense to care. It overrode all of my natural instincts, and I quivered when his dry thumb pressed against my hole.
“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are?” he asked.
And although he must have told me, I couldn’t recall a single moment. I felt it, every time he looked at me, but hearing the words from his lips felt wholly different.
“I’m battle worn,” I told him.
“Yes.” He kissed the inside of my knee, then down my thigh. His warm mouth touched over my balls, sucking one into his mouth, and then the other. His parted lips grazed along my cock, but he didn’t stop there. He kept going, paying worship to my skin in ways no one ever had before. “You’re battle worn, and a little scarred, and the most beautiful man I have ever had the fortune to get my hands on.” He stopped at my neck, where my pulse was pounding, and then he sank his teeth into my skin.
He had no fangs to break the skin—not now and hopefully not ever—but he didn’t need them. The bond surged, glowing white-hot and almost painful, and he pulled back with a gasp.
“Misha, I need you to put something inside me right now,” I begged.
I heard the snap of the lube bottle, and then a single finger pressed in. He didn’t take it slow, didn’t make me wait, didn’t make me beg. He didn’t treat me like I was fragile, like I couldn’t handle it. He kissed me, and he stretched me, and then he spread my legs wider as he sat between the V of my thighs and pushed both legs up so high, my hips ached.
“Tell me to fuck you, Kor,” he said.
I felt him moving, and I realized he was stroking his cock with more lube. I shuddered and leaned up on my elbows, allowing myself a brief, painful moment to wish I could see him. Then it stopped mattering because the head of his cock was pushing inside me—the pressure was intense, the burn of it—but I welcomed every single inch as he sank deep inside.
