Chapter 41
It was late, the barracks quiet. Ice was sitting up in his bed reading when he heard a knock on the wall behind his head. He knocked back. It was quiet for a moment, then came a series of soft knocks in a distinct pattern. Ice realized it was Morse Code. He waited as it got quiet, then listened as the pattern started again. It spelled out two words: Come over .
Shaking his head in amusement, he got out of bed. He was in a pair of sleep pants, but pulled on a T-shirt too. He didn’t bother with a balaclava. Quietly leaving his room, he went next door and slipped into Hazard’s.
“Don’t think that was proper use of military communication technique,” he said as he closed the door behind him.
Dylan lay in bed on his side, propped up on one elbow. His chest was bare, the covers down around his waist, falling low enough to reveal that he was naked beneath them. A mischievous grin curled his lips. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“What’s one more secret between squadmates?” he asked dryly.
Dylan lifted a corner of the covers. “Join me.”
Royce got in the bed and slid between the sheets. The bed wasn’t made to hold two people so it was a tight fit. To make up for the lack of space, Royce pulled Dylan to lay across his chest. It already felt as if the omega belonged there. Royce brushed a thumb over Hazard’s lips. “You gonna make it worth my while for making the journey to get here?”
“You went two steps from door to door.”
“That’s worth at least two kisses.”
“Ugh, fine.”
Dylan grumbled as if annoyed, but his eyes sparkled with humor. He lifted his face and brushed his lips over Royce’s in a barely there kiss.
“One.”
For the second kiss, Dylan kissed Royce slow and lingering, then nipped at his bottom lip with his canines.
“Two. Satisfied?” he asked with a dark brow raised.
“Hmm... For now.”
Dylan gave a soft laugh before resettling in his spot on Royce’s chest. They lay there quietly for several minutes. Blanketed by Dylan’s warm, naked body, Royce closed his eyes and started to drift into sleep.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” Dylan whispered.
Royce opened his eyes again and looked down at Dylan. He was trailing his fingers up and down his left arm.
“Yes, I do,” he answered simply. Both of his arms were tattooed from wrists to a few inches below his elbows.
“They’re gorgeous.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I like this one here. And this one,” he said as he traced his finger over the black ink. “But you have blank spaces above your wrist. On both arms. Why’d you leave those spots empty?”
“It’s a tradition in my pack majora to leave that space free.”
Dylan brushed his thumb over the empty space.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You never talk about your pack. Would love to hear about the tradition, if you don’t mind sharing it.”
Surprisingly pleased at his lover showing an interest in his home pack, Ice told him the history behind his tattoos. “I was born into the Mystic Storm pack in Washington state. Tattoos are a big part of their culture. Alphas often get full sleeves on both arms.”
“What about omegas?” Dylan asked curiously.
“They get their alpha’s name tatted on their ass when they get mated.”
Dylan raised his head to look at him in surprise. “You’re lying.”
Royce grinned. “Maybe.”
“I don’t believe you,” Dylan grumbled as he laid back down. “Tell me about the alpha tradition.”
“We get symbols that are important to us in bands, starting at the wrist and rising all the way up to our shoulders or until we want to stop.”
“Like life rings on a tree,” Dylan said. “Then why the blank space? What’s that for?”
“That space is reserved for our mate. When we take a mate, not only do we exchange mating bites, but alphas get inked with whatever our mates want to see in our skin. Many mates choose something like the couple’s names or the date they met. But it can be anything.”
Again, Dylan brushed his thumb over the blank space on his arm. “That’s a wonderful tradition. Leaving space for your mate on your body just as you do in your heart.”
“Hmm.”
They both went quiet for a moment. Ice had never planned to take a mate. Actually, he’d never planned to get the tattoos either. He was so divorced from nearly everything that made him a wolf and hadn’t had any contact with his home pack in so long that he’d thought that he didn’t care about the tradition. But one day he’d had the urge to go and get a tattoo. He had, and after that first ink he’d continued on, his arms slowly but steadily filling with symbols that represented his life.
Major milestones were all permanently etched into his skin. Graduating from military school with honors. Then graduation from basic training. Each promotion in the Legion. His first kill. The first time he’d been shot. Since it felt nice to talk about his personal life with Dylan, he decided to share a little more.
“I never planned to have anything in that space,” he admitted.
“Why not?”
“Once I moved into covert and tactical ops I assumed I would die out in the field. But I left the empty space out of respect for my pack’s tradition.”
“Hmm,” Dylan quietly hummed. “You won’t die out there in some battle.”
“I won’t?”
“Nope.”
“You sound certain of that.”
Dylan twisted to look up at him. “I am. I can see you retired, maybe with a bad shoulder from all the knife throws, at home in a renovated farm house on acres of land.”
Royce frowned. “You don’t have the Sight.”
“Don’t need it. I can feel it in here,” Dylan said with a fist pressed to his chest. “I know you’ll survive this job. This life.”
“If you say it, it must be true.”
Dylan smiled and dropped a kiss on his chin. “So, what are your first tattoos?” he asked as he traced his fingers over the band closest to his wrist. “Tell me the story of baby Ice’s first ink.”
“Those are for my family,” he said stiffly. He wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.
Dylan instantly got the hint. He moved up to the next band without missing a beat. “What’s this one?”
Royce relaxed again. “That’s when I graduated from military school.”
“Why the broken pencil?”
“I chose it because I thought I was done with writing and my life would be nothing but action from there on out. Little did I know about post mission reports.”
Dylan huffed a quiet laugh. “What a sweet, naive child you were.”
Dylan continued on, picking out the tattoos that interested him the most. For each one, Royce shared the history behind it. Dylan listened, laughing at the funny stories, squeezing his arm in sympathy at the rough ones.
By the time Dylan sated his curiosity, Royce realized he hadn’t talked about himself that much in... well, ever. Somehow, Dylan made it easy for him to open up and share.
“They’re beautiful and they’re a part of your culture. But I’ve never seen you in anything but long sleeves. Why don’t you ever show them off?”
Royce thought about it for a moment before he answered. “They feel too private to let other people see.” And he hadn’t been home to his pack in years. Sometimes, when he looked at the ink on his arms, he thought that he didn’t have the right to claim that part of his heritage. Because of his estrangement from his home pack, he didn’t want to face a wolf from Mystic Storm and have them ask questions that he couldn’t answer. So, he kept them hidden under long sleeves.
“Oh. Well, I’m honored that you shared them with me.”
One look into Dylan’s eyes revealed that he understood Royce’s need to keep his tattoos and thus his life private, which made Royce even more glad that he’d decided to share them with the omega. Maybe one day, he’d share with him his other reason for not showing off his tattoos.
“I don’t have any tattoos.”
“I know you don’t. I’ve seen every inch of your skin.” Beneath the covers, he lazily smoothed a hand over Dylan’s bare hip. “Think I would have noticed a tattoo by now.”
“What if I had one in invisible ink?”
“Did your invisible friend do it for you?” Royce dryly asked.
Dylan pouted. “Very funny. Maybe I’ll get one someday.”
“Hmmm. Where would you get it?”
Dylan slowly rubbed his hand over his right pec muscle. “Maybe here.”
“That’s a good spot,” Royce said as he traced a single fingertip over the same place Dylan had touched.
“Or here.” Dylan twisted slightly, reaching behind to tap his fingers on the back of his shoulder.
Royce brushed his knuckles over his lover’s shoulder. “Hmmm. I like that spot too.”
“Or...” He paused as he stroked a thumb down his neck, stopping right before he reached his scent gland. “Here.”
This time, Royce leaned down to follow Dylan’s path with his lips. He lightly bit at the spot, just enough to leave a faint red mark behind on his throat. “I think that would be a great spot.”
“Do you think I can walk into a tattoo studio and ask them to ink your teeth mark into my skin?”
“Don’t see why not.” Royce answered with his lips still pressed to Dylan’s throat. “But I’d rather give you the real thing.”
“What about when it heals and fades?”
“I’ll have to bite you again.”
“What if I never want it to fade?” Dylan whispered.
Royce raised his head, his eyes flying to meet Dylan’s. He couldn’t mean that he wanted a permanent mate bond bite. But if he did... Royce closed his eyes for a moment to imagine his teeth marks over Dylan’s mating gland. His Instinct pulsed warm in his chest, thrilled at the idea. But Royce knew that they couldn’t — not without the Legion’s permission. And Dylan probably hadn’t meant it like that anyway. This was only casual. He put the thought of biting Dylan’s mating gland away and kept the mood light and playful.
“Then I guess I’ll have to give you a fresh one every night.”
Dylan smiled. “I think I like this plan.”
“Should I get started on it right now, Corporal?”
“Please do, Captain.”
Royce moved to give Dylan what he wanted. He wished he could leave marks on Dylan’s throat for everyone to see and know he was claimed. But doing that would land them both in hot water. So he settled for lower. Lips pressed to hot skin, he left love bites and bruises in places that would be covered by Dylan’s shirt. Dylan moaned and gasped at each one, bringing a hand up to cup the back of Royce’s head and keep him close.
Royce pushed himself up from Dylan’s chest to look at his handiwork. Several passion marks glowed fresh and red on Dylan’s tan skin. He brushed his thumb over one of the bruises. “You look good with my marks.”
“Do I?”
“Absolutely. You know what else looks good?”
“What?”
Royce leaned down to whisper in Dylan’s ear. “When you’re coming on my cock.”
Dylan shivered. “That’s ummm... nice to know.”
Royce slipped a hand beneath the covers. He let his fingers dance over the bare skin of Dylan’s pelvis, deliberately avoiding his cock as he caressed him.
“Will you let me see that tonight?”
Dylan answered immediately, his eyes wide and a rosy flush already on his cheekbones.
“Yes.”
“Then open those pretty thighs for me, sweetheart.”
Dylan groaned, spreading his legs open beneath the covers as ordered.
Royce pressed a kiss to Dylan’s lips before he moved his hand into the space so freely given to him. While they kissed, he rubbed his fingers back and forth between his lover’s ass cheeks, delving deeper each time until he reached his entrance. Using one finger, he slowly pressed inside to start working him open.
Once Dylan was relaxed around his finger, he added another, then one more. Hot, silky slick coated his fingers as he slid them in and out to get him ready to take his cock. He kept going until Dylan was moaning and shifting restlessly on the bed.
“Ready for me, sweetheart?”
At Dylan’s nod, Royce moved them so they were laying on their sides facing each other. He gripped Dylan’s thigh and tugged it over his hip. Taking hold of his cock, he held it steady while he pushed up inside him. Once he was as far in as he could go in this position, he held still to enjoy the warm fit of his lover’s walls on his cock.
“I can feel you throbbing inside me,” Dylan whispered.
“Yeah?”
Dylan’s lips pursed in a sensual pout as he hummed his answer. “Mmmm-hmmm.”
His lips were so pretty that Royce had to taste them again. They kissed, tongues curling together slow and lazy, while he started rolling his hips to fuck into Dylan at the same unhurried pace. The leisurely sex lasted for long minutes. Long minutes of Dylan caressing Royce’s chest and back while Royce gently cupped and squeezed his omega’s ass.
But eventually, as the heat both between and within them increased, the slow, shallow thrusting stopped satisfying them. No longer kissing, their open mouths remained pressed together as they panted and moaned, asking for more without words. Royce needed to be deep inside his lover and Dylan needed it too.
Royce swiftly rolled Dylan to his back, sliding on top of him. Once he was in place between Dylan’s thighs, he switched to short, deep thrusts that punched the breath out of the omega’s chest. Every push of his hips was meant to drive Dylan toward orgasm even as he chased his own. Dylan reached up to grip Royce’s arms, using the hold to keep from being pushed up the mattress.
“ Royce .” Dylan groaned his name. “You feel so... so fucking good.”
“So do you. You’re nice and tight.” He looked down, watching his cock glide in and out of his lover. Dylan’s slick coated his shaft, making it shine in the lamp’s light. “And so damn wet .” His gaze was caught by Dylan’s erection, laying stiff and neglected on his belly. “Let me see you touch yourself.”
Dylan released his hold on Royce’s arm to take his cock in hand. He began pumping it with slow strokes while Royce watched.
“That feel good?” Royce asked.
“Yeah.” Dylan paused to lick his lips. “Real good.”
“Go faster,” he ordered as he increased the speed of his thrusts.
Dylan followed his instruction, pumping his cock faster until his fist was flying up and down his shaft.
Royce watched him, loving the passionate picture he made — flushed face, the tip of his pink tongue darting out to lick over parted lips. He could tell Dylan was close from the many crystal drops of pre-cum spilling over the crown of his cock, as well as the light clenching of his walls on his own shaft.
“Gonna come for me?”
Dylan nodded once. “Couldn’t stop it if I tried.”
Royce breathed a laugh before he smashed their lips together in a fierce kiss. They were both climbing high, reaching for their climax. Royce with powerful, desperate thrusts, Dylan’s knuckles bumping Royce’s stomach as he furiously stroked himself. Royce changed the angle of his hips so that on the next slide in, his cock brushed that sensitive place hidden within his lover. That was all it took to send Dylan over the edge.
He came with soft, shuddering cries, slick pouring out of him in a hot, wet rush. A pretty, white spray of cum shot from his cock, making a mess on his fingers and the sucked in muscles of his stomach. The sight and sound of Dylan’s orgasm swept Royce into his own climax.
With a final thrust, he buried himself deep. His cock throbbed as his release pulsed into his lover. Remembering that their squadmates were asleep in their rooms on the other side of the barracks, he pressed his lips to Dylan’s throat to muffle his groan. Cursing at the exquisite pleasure of his climax, he closed his eyes, senses narrowing to the sensations rippling through his body and Dylan’s scent in his nose.
Perfect. Making love to Dylan was perfect. Something pinged in the back of his head when he called sex with Dylan making love, but the rest of his body was buzzing with too many orgasm endorphins to analyze what that might mean.
They lay there, chests pushing together as they caught their breath. Mindful of his weight, Royce pulled out of Dylan and rolled off of him. He brushed a kiss over his lover’s buzzed hair while Dylan pressed one to his shoulder. They continued to kiss and caress each other in gentle silence until the last echoes of their release faded and their heart beats returned to normal.
“I’ll be right back.” Royce got up and went into the bathroom to get a towel. He turned the faucet on to dampen it with hot water then took it back out to Dylan. With gentle strokes, he wiped him down with the wet towel, first the sweat on his face and chest, then the cum that both of them had spilled.
“That feel better?”
“Mmmm, yeah.” Dylan sleepily mumbled.
Royce tossed the towel back in the bathroom and returned to the side of the bed. Dylan was curled on his side, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes.
“Will you stay?”
“You don’t even have to ask.” He wanted nothing more than to sleep with his lover in his arms. Royce got back in bed and slid underneath the covers. After turning off the nightstand lamp, he stretched out on his back, gathering Dylan up to retake his place on his chest. Warm, comfortable, and satisfied, he lay there listening to Dylan’s breathing gradually deepening into the rhythm of sleep. It wasn’t long before the soft snores pulled him under as well.