by Noah Harris
Blake hesitated, and when he spoke, Dylan could hear the defeated pout in his voice. “No…”
He smiled, tasting victory on the tip of his tongue. “Will you actually try? If not for Arulean, then for me?” He lowered his voice, letting a little vulnerability leak through, a little of the emotion he’d been keeping locked away. “I miss you, Blake.” He said softly, running his fingers along his mate’s skin. “The sooner you can figure this out, the sooner we can spend more time together again.”
That finally broke him. Blake sighed again, his entire body melting into his chair in defeat. “I suppose it’s worth a shot,” he grumbled, though he didn’t sound happy about it. “Nothing here is working anyway.”
“If it works, I’m taking credit for it,” Dylan teased, amusement in his voice as he dragged his lips up and down Blake’s neck.
He heard his mate chuckle, felt the vibrations in his throat. “I’m sure you will.” He lifted one of Dylan’s arms from around his neck, guiding his hand to his face so he could press a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, nuzzling into the scent glands that rested beneath his skin. “Thanks, babe,” he whispered.
“Anytime.” He pressed a firmer kiss to Blake’s neck before straightening, unraveling his arms from around his mate’s neck and pulling them away as he stepped back from his chair. “Now, come on.”
Blake half turned to look at him, arm on the back of his chair as he raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Dylan smiled, taking another careful step backwards, slow and cautious to keep from tripping over the death trap of cables on the floor. He kept his gaze on Blake’s, eyes lidded and lips curved into a small, secretive smile. “I said come on.” He said this while holding out a hand toward Blake, beckoning him forward.
Blake’s lips twisted into a small frown, conflicting emotions passing over his face, warring for dominance. He slid his gaze from Dylan’s outstretched hands back to his face. “What are you planning?” he asked, voice pitched low and words rolling slowly off his tongue. There was an undercurrent in his tone, one that had excited shivers running down Dylan’s spine. Blake was reading his scent, and he knew it. He wasn’t keeping it a secret. His omega was calling out to Blake, urging him forward with the sweet temptations of his scent and through their bond. Blake, whether he liked it or not, was reacting to it.
He wanted his mate. Needed him. There was no way that he was going to take no for an answer.
Dylan just smiled, small and coy. He turned then, carefully picking his way over the wires and cords, letting his hips sway and muscles move sensually as he made his way to the door.
“I thought you wanted me to try to work with the witches again?” Blake tried, cautious and torn, hunger clear in his voice.
“I do,” Dylan said, pausing in the doorway and putting a hand on the frame as he half turned, eyeing his mate. “And you’re going to apologize to her, too, and make an honest attempt at working together.” Blake frowned, opening his mouth to protest, no doubt in his mind that he thought he didn’t need to apologize, but Dylan cut him off. “The witches have forced Adalaide to take a rest before she works herself into the ground. And I’m going to do the same with you.”
“I should…really keep working…” Blake tried again, regret in his voice and resolve weakening. “Arulean…”
Dylan leaned into the door frame, letting Blake get a full view of his backside. “Arulean will understand, and if he doesn’t, he can answer to me. You’ll be no use to anyone if you’re exhausted and sleep deprived.” He turned, holding out his hand again. “Come,” he said, short and sweet, an order and a promise. “Let me take care of you.” His voice softened, tone shifting. “I need you to take care of me…”
The sweet promises that were left unsaid, the implication and hunger in Dylan’s voice, the need radiating through their bond, and the sweet temptations of his scent finally broke down his mate’s resolve.
Blake stood, face relaxed and eyes hooded as he made his way across the room. He took Dylan’s hand, his lips curving into a small smirk. “Who am I to deny my mate anything,” he said softly, lifting Dylan’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it, to his knuckles, flipping it over to kiss his palm, his wrist, hovering there as he met Dylan’s gaze.
Warmth coiled low in Dylan’s gut, spiraling downward, and shivers ran down his spine. He stepped backwards into the hallway, gently tugging Blake along by the hand.
It had been a long time since the two of them had time alone together. Their only moments stolen during the one night after Dylan had gotten home and before they had left for the Shadow Pack. Stolen after putting Lily to bed, their lips pressed tight to keep their voices down, hurried and rushed, an ear alert for any sounds of movement in the house.
Stolen moments, quick and rushed, hurried and hungry.
Now they could have time alone. Time to savor each other. Time to truly love each other without fear of interruption. Like they used to. Like Dylan craved to do again.
Blake had been working so hard for the sake of others, and it was about time Dylan took care of him. They would take care of each other, in truth, because this was just as much for Dylan’s sake as for Blake. He craved the closeness that he felt was slipping away from them. He needed it, as he feared they would fall apart without it.
He pulled Blake through the halls, and his mate stumbled after him. When Dylan glanced back at one point, Blake’s eyes were on him, half lidded and lips parted. He looked drunk, his scent strong, heady, and dark with need. Perhaps, Dylan thought absently, he was drunk in a sense. Tired and exhausted as he was, he was in no shape to physically or mentally resist the pull of Dylan’s scent, and it left him more or less drunk off of it.
Dylan smirked, satisfaction settling in his chest as his omega preened from within. It felt good to be like this: to have his alpha mate, his husband, weak and putty in his hands. It made him feel powerful and in control. It made him feel desired and loved. It made him want to give back to the man who made him feel this way.
They passed a few people in the halls, all of whom gave them not only a wide berth but knowing smirks. Dylan kept his chin high, pulling his stumbling alpha after him. When they made it to their room, Dylan paused, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the key. Blake pressed up against his back, slotting their bodies together. Dylan revelled in the familiar press of his alpha’s long, lean body, pressing back to push himself against his mate’s hips.
Blake was already getting hard just pressing into him through their clothing, and it sent excitement sizzling through Dylan’s veins.
Dylan was surprised by how easily he was able to slip the key into the lock, despite how his fingers shook. When the door was open, they both stumbled through. He tossed the key on their dresser before turning, shutting the door and shoving Blake up against it. He buried his fists into his mate’s shirt and shoved him roughly back against the wood, crushing their lips together in a needy kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth, claiming and exploring the alpha.
Blake groaned into it, melting against the door and easily handing over control to Dylan. He wasn’t sure the alpha had it in him to be in control right at this moment. That was how much he was already gone simply from Dylan’s scent. Blake’s hands automatically went to Dylan’s waist, wrapping around him and pulling him in close, slotting their bodies perfectly against one another. Yet despite how far gone he was, despite how roughly they kissed and how eager his hands were, despite how their bodies rubbed and pressed against one another, Blake was aware enough to be gentle with Dylan’s stomach. He kept himself from pushing too hard against that vulnerable place, keeping it safely between them.
Dylan pulled away, breathless and panting, and took pride in the fact that Blake was in much the same state. Blake looked at him, eyes dark and hooded, lips red, swollen and wet with spit. He licked his lips, blinking slowly. When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, ragged with shallow breaths. “Lily?”
Dylan smiled, pulling backwards out of
Blake’s grip. He let him go, hands and arms sliding away from Dylan’s waist and catching on Dylan’s hands. Dylan pulled him off the door with a gentle tug, leading him backwards across the room. “She’s with Lucy. We’re free until dinner.”
Blake hummed, a drunken smile appearing on his lips. “And whatever shall we do with our time?”
Dylan only smiled, pulling his mate into the bathroom attached to their room. It was spacious and far more lavish than their bathroom at home. He had a lot of memories in this bathroom over the years. A lot of memories that involved making love to his alpha. This time would be no different.
He reached into the shower, turning on the water and adjusting it to the right temperature before moving back out of the spray. He undressed himself first, taking it slow and holding Blake’s gaze until the alpha broke it to let his eyes wander down Dylan’s body, devouring his skin as it was slowly revealed. Here, locked in their bathroom, his scent was stronger. Their scents combining and lingering, mixing together to form something wholesome and addictive.
When Dylan stood naked before him, Blake looked him over, absently licking his lips, fingers twitching like he was actively having to hold back from reaching out to him. His eyes were dark and heavy, his chest heaving with each breath. Dylan’s lip quirked up into a small smirk, confident and cocky. He had never been particularly fond of his body. His own self-image had rarely mattered. He always felt more self conscious when his stomach was swollen with new life, softened at the edges that he usually worked to keep so firm.
Blake’s gaze however, the way he looked at him, lovingly, eagerly, never failed to make Dylan feel beautiful and desired.
He took a step forward, closing the distance between them as he set to work undressing his mate. Blake let him, moving only as directed but otherwise letting Dylan take care of it. Dylan took his time, dragging his hands, reverently and hungrily along Blake’s body as each muscle was exposed, feeling every dip and curve, loving the feel of his soft flesh against his palms, soft to the touch but stretched out over lean and hard muscles.
When Blake stood equally naked, Dylan allowed himself a moment to look him over. He took in his broad shoulders that tapered to a strong and lean chest and down to narrow hips. His thighs were strong, calves defined. His ass, though turned from him, he knew was tight and perfect. Blake was perfect. Perfect and beautiful and HIS.
Dylan didn’t know what he had done to be so lucky, but he thanked every god that might be listening that this man had chosen him for a mate.
He took Blake by the hand and guided him toward the shower, both of them stepping beneath the spray. It was warm and hazy. Dylan smirked as Blake’s body instantly relaxed under it, eyes closing and head tilting back. It was then that Dylan set to work. He moved Blake in and out of the spray as needed while he washed his mate. He took his time washing his hair, nails scratching at his scalp until Blake hummed contentedly. He took even more time washing his body, lathering up his hands and moving them over Blake’s skin slowly, letting his fingers explore every single dip and rise, memorized over time but still seeming new with every touch.
Blake let him work, standing still and patient, eyes never leaving Dylan. As his hands ran down Blake’s chest, sliding along his sides and around to his back, Dylan stepped forward. It brought them chest to chest, stomachs pushing against each other lightly. He tilted his head back, nudging his nose against Blake’s. The man’s eyes closed as he bent forward to nuzzle against Dylan. They nosed each other’s cheeks, lips light and fleeting along jaw lines, wet hair plastered to their faces and water streaming down their necks.
Dylan tilted his head again, catching Blake’s upper lip with his bottom one, feeling chills run down his spine when Blake’s breath hitched from that one simple act. His lips curved into the ghost of a smile as he did it again, teasing and fleeting before nuzzling into Blake’s forehead. His hands roamed up and down Blake’s back, mapping out the long planes of his broad shoulders and back, tapering down into a lean waist, feeling the ridges of his spine.
Blake groaned low, soft, and frustrated, and tilted his head to the side, leaning forward to capture Dylan’s lips. Unlike their earlier kisses, this one was slow. It started out soft and chaste, barely more than simple pressure and the slide of lips. Again, and again, and again. Each kiss got a little more heady but no less soft. Blake’s hands slid up Dylan’s thighs, coming to rest possessively and protectively on his hips, thumbs idly caressing his sharp hip bones.
Dylan’s breath hitched, and he groaned into the kiss. Blake took the opportunity to slip his tongue past Dylan’s lips, and Dylan opened up to him automatically, eagerly, letting Blake take everything he had.
Dylan’s hands slipped lower, moving around the curve of his ass and holding on tight, giving him a squeeze that had Blake stiffening for a moment, biting back a soft sound. Dylan smiled into their kiss, pulling Blake’s hips against his own, rubbing their slick lengths together.
It felt good. Blake felt good. Blake felt perfect pressed up against him like this, filling in all the spaces between them like puzzle pieces. Like they were meant to be together like this. Two halves destined to become one whole. His body crackled with energy everywhere they touched. Every point of contact felt like a live wire, flooding his body with heat.
It had been years since they had first gotten together, and every time still felt like the first. He always felt it just as intensely. He hoped the feeling would never fade.
No matter how he was feeling. No matter how much he doubted himself and his decisions in life. When he doubted his ability to be a parent and felt uncomfortable in his own skin, he knew he could always trust this. He could trust the spark he felt when he and Blake were together. He could trust what he felt here, in moments like these.
Whenever he doubted where he was and what he was doing, Blake made him feel like he belonged; feel like he was home.
He pulled back from Blake, chuckling slightly as his mate chased after his lips, muttering frustrated sounds when Dylan remained just out of reach. Blake’s eyes opened, the hooded dark lids shadowing his normally bright blue eyes into something resembling the dark depths of the ocean. His lips pursed into a small pout, and Dylan smiled.
Dylan took a step back, hands slipping from around him, and Blake’s arms reluctantly falling from his hips. Dylan grabbed for the soap again, pouring some out on his hands and taking his time to lather it up and recap the bottle, setting it aside.
Then, holding eye contact with his mate, a small smirk playing on the edges of his lips, he sank down to his knees. Blake watched him kneel, eyes widening a little in surprise, expression eager and curious, though they both knew exactly where this was going. Dylan simply held his gaze, soapy hands going to Blake’s hips and slowly running down his thighs, tight and strong, down past his knees to his calves and back up again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blake’s cock twitch with interest and anticipation, already half hard and stretched eagerly toward him. He moved his hands closer with each rise up his legs, teasing but never quite touching, before moving away.
He felt Blake shiver beneath his fingertips. He saw the man’s hands clenched into fists, one hand going to the wall of the shower to help keep himself upright. He watched as Blake licked his lips, biting on the lower one as Dylan’s slicked up hands moved to caress his balls, cupping them and massaging them. He watched as his mate’s chest flushed from arousal and the heat of the shower, heaving gently with ragged breaths.
Then, holding his gaze, Dylan leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to the head of his cock, letting it rest against his lips as he licked the underside. He took a moment to tongue at the slit, enjoying the salty bitterness of his mate’s precum. His hands had come to rest on Blake’s thighs, and he could feel the man’s legs quivering beneath his grip.
Dylan smirked, eyes dancing with mischievous amusement. He then swallowed him down to the hilt, holding back his choke as the head of Blake’s cock hit the bac
k of his throat.
Blake hissed out a gasp, tossing his head back and letting out a long breath, growling low in his throat the sound vibrating through his chest.
“Oh god, Dylan,” Blake groaned, and had his lips not been stretched wide with his mate’s length, Dylan would have smiled.
He waited a moment, letting himself adjust, feeling Blake’s blond curls tickle against his chin and nose. Then he pulled back, lips brushing against the ridge of the head before sinking down once again. He moved quicker, picking up his pace. Blake hardened in his mouth, pushing Dylan to his limits.
One of Blake’s hands found its way to his head, long fingers curling into his hair. His hips began to buck forward, lightly thrusting and seeking out the tight heat of Dylan’s mouth. Dylan’s hands tightened on Blake’s thighs, holding him as still as he was able to, seizing back control of the moment.
He bobbed quickly down Blake’s length, suppressing his gag reflex and enjoying the feeling as the head of his mate’s cock nudged the back of his throat. Tears sprung to his eyes, gathering in the corners, but he ignored them. The taste of precum was bitter yet exhilarating on his tongue. He moved his head as best he could, using his tongue to laveer the underside of Blake’s cock whenever he pulled back. It was a mess. He was a mess. Saliva and water ran down his face, soap dripping from his hands and Blake’s thighs.
Blake stood above him, legs shaking, eyes squeezed shut. His head hung low, lips parted as he panted. Every sound Dylan managed to rip from his mate was a victory, sending thrills and warmth shooting through him.
“Dylan,” Blake murmured, eyes peeling open slowly to stare down at him. His grip in Dylan’s hair tightened a fraction, holding him off from sinking down on his length again. Dylan whined, high pitched and needy, lips still pressed to the head of his mate’s cock and tongue sliding along the length. “Babe, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna—“
