“Good morning, Mr. St. James. I am making the shakshuka you like. But you cannot eat like this,” she said, gesturing to me with one hand on her hip. “Go get cleaned up properly. How many times do I tell you not to come into my kitchen smelling like a wet dog?”
I raised my hands in surrender and smiled to placate her. “I’ll go take a shower.”
Our room was on the other side of the house. I quickened my step, thinking of my bonded Beta, wondering if he was still in bed.
We’d met four years before, when I was at the height of my career. I’d gotten death threats, the kind you get when you reach a certain level of fame, and my management team insisted I hire personal security. The agency had sent Gabriel, a beautiful Italian, and my fate had been sealed.
He was spectacularly handsome, charismatic, and friendly. But his smile hid a much more formidable core. Not only was he skilled with a variety of weapons, but he was fiercely protective of those he loved to the point of self-destruction. I tried my best to be a partner who would never require him to test those tendencies.
We’d bonded two years before, but I still got a thrill when I reached for him at the end of the tether between us.
I entered our bedroom on tiptoe. He was sleeping soundly, one muscled arm thrown across his eyes. I toed off my shoes and crept across the carpet, shedding the rest of my clothes as I walked.
When I slid under the covers, Gabriel rolled towards me instinctively. I covered his body with my own as he roused. Sleep made his cedar scent as warm as his skin, and I brushed my nose gently along the outer edge of his throat, teasing the bondmark there. The sight of my mark on him, where I’d sunk my teeth into him, claiming him as mine, sent a rush of blood to my cock.
“Ah, amore mio, you are insatiable,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. But his body stirred against me as he reacted to my thickening scent. “I thought you were training.”
“I was. But now, I’m ready for another kind of exercise.” I drew my tongue along the outer shell of his ear. He shivered beneath me.
Instead of replying, Gabriel pressed his cock more firmly against my own. I propped myself on my arms so I could watch the pleasure bloom in his soft brown eyes. His mouth fell open with a small gasp as I rolled my hips, sliding my length along his. I wanted to taste him, but he enjoyed this, too.
“Cazzo, amore, é troppo bello,” he murmured, slipping into Italian like he often did when we touched. My body reacted to the raw need in his voice. I'd picked up a few phrases, and most were not appropriate for general use. I loosely encircled both of our cocks with my hand, increasing the pressure. He bucked his hips again, and I growled softly. My knot was already swelling at the thought of cumming all over him, soaking him in my scent.
When I couldn't take it any longer, I slid down his body and took him in my mouth. He was thick and compact enough for me to take almost fully down my throat.
He cursed in Italian again and thrust into my mouth. I pressed my own hard length into the mattress and ground my hips as I brought Gabriel close to the brink.
Just before he came, I drew away and crawled back up his body to frame his face with my hands. The tip of my cock brushed his stomach, and I groaned.
“Amore, please,” he said, arching his back for me. I dipped to graze my teeth along the bond mark before reaching for the lube in the nightstand.
I slicked myself quickly, then him. I gripped both of our cocks more firmly in one hand and we both groaned again, mine turning to a growl as I stroked. Gabriel pulled me down for a kiss, and when he sucked my tongue roughly into his mouth, I came apart, cumming in hot streaks across his chest.
He followed me over the edge, painting his own cum across my stomach. Our scents mingled, his woody scent cutting through my overwhelming spice.
I leant over to retrieve my shirt and used it to clean up the worst of the mess before rolling onto my side, bringing Gabriel with me.
“You are so beautiful when you come,” he said after a long, lingering kiss. “I could watch you all day.”
“Another day. We’re going into the city, remember?”
It was the day of my follow-up appointment at the clinic. Gabriel hadn’t been able to come to the first appointment, but he was going with me for this one. He had plenty of skepticism about experimental treatments after the last botched surgery, and I hoped coming along would allay some of those fears.
“Ah, yes, that’s right. The mad scientists.” He rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe you are paying so much for this treatment that is not even tested.”
“I had almost no pain this morning. Even you have to admit that’s pretty good.” I poked him in the ribs.
“‘Almost’ no pain?” he scoffed. “Tell me when it is no pain at all.”
When I’d first told him about the experimental treatment that Dr. Davis was offering, he’d been against it immediately.
“What could be worth a hundred thousand per injection? Is it pure gold? The cum of San Pietro?”
We’d fought about it for a week until he finally relented.
“This is the last thing, amore,” he’d said, stroking my hair as I lay in his lap on the couch, a fire roaring in the fireplace. “If this does not work, you must promise me you will stop chasing a miracle. It hurts me to see you disappointed.”
My heart contracted at that, at the idea of causing him pain, but I had to try. “I promise,” I murmured, closing my eyes.
