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When they were in Beckett’s room, his mate used one of the towels to dry off Santee, and Santee freaking loved how his mate pampered him. It seemed everything Beckett did was a first for Santee.
Beckett tossed the towel aside, solely focusing on Santee, his electric-blue eyes never leaving Santee’s. At that moment, he felt like the most important person in the world to Beckett.
Beckett leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Santee’s lips. “I want to make sure you know that this is your choice. We can wait, or we can…”
Santee didn’t let Beckett finish his sentence. He wrapped his arms around his mate’s neck and pulled him down for a deep, passionate kiss. As they kissed, Santee ran his hands over Beckett’s muscular chest and back, feeling the water droplets on his skin.
Beckett responded by picking Santee up and laying him down on the bed. He trailed kisses down Santee’s neck and chest, causing Santee to shiver with pleasure. Beckett took his time, exploring every inch of Santee’s body with his mouth and hands.
Santee was in heaven. He had never felt this desired, this loved before. He wrapped his legs around his mate’s waist and pulled him closer, wanting to feel their bodies pressed together.
Beckett seemed to sense what Santee needed and adjusted his position so that they were chest to chest. He continued to kiss Santee, their tongues moving together in a sensual dance.
Santee felt Beckett’s hard length pressed against his own, and he couldn’t help but wriggle his hips, causing a soft purr to escape Beckett’s throat.
“Patience, sweetheart,” Beckett murmured against Santee’s lips. “We have all the time in the world.”
Santee nodded, but an impatient whimper escaped his throat. He wanted Beckett inside him, filling him up and making him feel whole.
His mate reached for the lube in the nightstand and slicked up his fingers. He gently breached Santee’s entrance, causing Santee to gasp at the intrusion.
Beckett took his time, stretching Santee until he was ready for him. And when he finally entered Santee, it was with a slow, gentle thrust. Santee breathed out, telling himself that the pain would pass.
“Try to relax.” Beckett rested his arms on either side of Santee’s head. “Concentrate on me, babe.”
Santee wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when the pain morphed into pleasure, it made Santee see stars. He wondered why he’d waited so long to have sex, yet he was glad Beckett was his first.
Beckett began to move, slowly at first, but then picking up the pace as Santee relaxed beneath him. Santee wrapped his legs around Beckett’s waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. He could feel the heat building in his belly, spreading throughout his body, until he was a writhing mess beneath his mate.
“Oh, Beckett,” Santee moaned, burying his face in Beckett’s shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
Beckett pulled Santee closer, thrusting deep inside his body. The guy was not a small man. Santee’s bottom ached, but it was a damn good ache, so good Santee never wanted to stop.
“Beckett.” Santee held on tighter as his mate sent Santee toward the edge in a heated rush, his body burning alive for the man holding him.
Beckett’s movements faltered, and then he fucked Santee to within an inch of his life. As Beckett thrust forward, he pushed Santee down onto his cock. Within seconds Santee was crying out his mate’s name, his seed spilling between their bodies.
That was when Beckett struck, his canines sinking into Santee’s soft flesh. Santee cried out, feeling their bond snap into place, their hearts synchronizing, their souls soldering together.
It was a high in itself, making Santee orgasm again. He wasn’t sure if he would survive the feeling of been pulled under a large wave and left breathless.
Beckett buried his cock in Santee’s ass, purring relentlessly until he pulled his canines free and licked the wound.
Something inside of Santee, maybe instinct, had him pulling Beckett down to him, and then Santee sank his canines into his mate’s shoulder, growling slightly before he removed his canines and licked at his mate’s wound.
“Oh…my…fuck…” Beckett breathed out, keeping his weight off of Santee. “Give me a second to recover, and then we can go at each other again.” He looked down at Santee who was breathing just as heavily. “Unless you’re too sore.”
“I don’t…I might…I can’t think.” Santee winced as Beckett eased out of him.
Beckett collapsed next to him and then slipped his arm over Santee’s stomach, nuzzling him. Santee stared at the rotating fan above him, sweat-soaked, his heart still racing, and smiled.
For the first time in his life, he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. And that place was in Beckett’s arms.
Chapter Seven
Santee had his legs curled up on the couch as he watched Beckett tie his boots, straighten his pant legs, and brush off his boots with his hands.
“Why aren’t you putting your shoes on?” Beckett asked. “Going barefoot to the diner?”
