Chapter 9 Tucker
NINE
TUCKER
I was already riding the knife’s edge of my own pleasure, and I wasn’t even inside my sweet Misha yet.
He was so goddamn beautiful and so responsive to my touch that it was going to my head, and my heart, and my cock.
He was undoing me slowly and I knew only forever with him would put me back together.
His eyes were wide as I put my hand on his chest, my fingers and thumb dipping into the hollows created by his collarbones, and gently pushed him back until he lowered himself onto the desk, his legs hanging over the edge in front of me, and his head almost hanging off the other end.
His cock was hard, standing straight out from his body, the tip wet, and I had to take a taste.
I needed the flavor of his cum on my tongue more than I needed my next breath.
My hands itched to touch more of his body, so I ran them over the length of his thighs, imagining what the creamy, soft skin would look like covered in more of my art.
Misha shuddered under me, and I lowered myself over him, peppering his chest with kisses and tonguing over his nipples.
His moans vibrated against my lips as I worked my way down his body, my hands still scratching over his thighs, until I reached his perfect dick.
My lips closed over the smooth pink head, and Misha screamed, arching up off the desk and driving himself farther into my mouth.
I tightened my mouth around him and gripped his hips, holding him down as I memorized his length with my tongue.
I lapped up his precum like I had his slick, until I knew he was on the edge, the sweet tang of more of his slick scenting the air and driving me insane with need.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. There would be time in our forever for me to take Misha apart with my mouth.
Right now I needed to be inside him. I needed to claim him. I needed him to know he was mine.
I gave his cock a few more gentle sucks as he writhed and my fingers found his soaked hole.
He was so ready for me, and I loved that his body knew what was coming.
I pulled off his dick with a pop that echoed around my office, competing only with Misha’s ragged breathing.
My gaze fell to his hole where I had one finger buried knuckle deep inside him.
“God, Misha. You’re so wet there is slick all over my desk.”
He was beyond words and I knew it, but I kept talking as I added a second finger and started stretching him. “You’re so tight, love, but you’re taking my fingers so well. Your hole looks so pretty stretched around my fingers. I can’t wait to see how gorgeous you look stuffed full of my cock.”
Misha moaned, tightening around my fingers.
I ran a gentle touch over his hip. “Shh, baby. I’ve got you. Relax and let me in.”
He drew in a shuddering breath, and his body relaxed enough for me to add a third finger. I fucked him with my fingers until his legs were shaking, then I pulled out and slid two fingers back into his body and found his prostate.
“Fuck!” Misha panted, chest heaving, his body almost levitating off the desk. A trickle of cum leaked from his cock, and I knew he’d had enough. He was ready.
He was about to be mine.
I lined my cock up with his hole and applied the smallest amount of pressure. “You’re doing so well, Misha. You’re so wet and stretched and ready, but if it’s too much, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
He nodded, and I bent forward to press a kiss to his hipbone as I sank in the first inch, his body squeezing the head of my dick tight. I gave him a minute to adjust, and when I felt his body relax I pushed in a little farther. “You’re going to feel my piercing now.”
I pressed into him farther, letting the metal balls on the underside of my cock rub against his rim before sliding them inside him.
Misha’s keening cry of pleasure reverberated through me, and I teased his hole with shallow thrusts, letting the balls catch on his rim over and over.
“More! Tucker! More!”
Sweat beaded along my hairline and ran down my back with the effort it was taking to hold myself back, to not hold his hips down and fuck into him with everything I had, but his begging was my undoing.
I pulled out, and slammed back into him, bracketing his body with my hands on either side of him on the desk.
“Fuck, baby. You feel so damn good. You’re so tight.” Misha’s eyes were glassy, and a tear tracked down his cheek and into his hair. I stilled as I wiped it away. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?”
I started to pull out, but Misha wrapped his legs around me, holding me in place. His voice was thready with pleasure and emotion when he spoke. “Don’t stop, Tucker. Please don’t stop.”
Holding his face in my hands, I leaned down and kissed him softly, barely letting my hips move but letting him know I’d heard him. I rocked into him softly, keeping our lips pressed together, until his heels dug into my ass and he was panting against my lips, no longer able to keep the kiss going.
“Tucker. Please.” I rolled my hips and he cried out. “Yes!”
I levered up off his body and grabbed his thighs, hooking his knees over my shoulders and making him slide his hips across the desk through the slick he’d painted all over it until my entire length was deep inside him.
His eyes rolled back and his mouth went slack as a filthy sound rumbled through him.
“You’re so beautiful, love. So perfect.”
Another moan, and he squeezed around me.
And that was it. I was lost.
My hands gripped his hips hard as I set a punishing pace, rocking him across the surface of the slick- and sweat-covered desk, our bodies slapping together, the air filled with the scents and sounds of fucking.
Misha’s fingers dug into my arms, his blunt nails carving short scratches into my skin.
For the first time in my life, I regretted my tattoos because I couldn’t see the marks he was leaving behind, and I wanted to.
I felt my front teeth start to elongate, ready to place a claiming bite on the omega beneath me, the man fate had meant to be my mate, but I held back the urge because Misha deserved the choice.
“I need more!” Misha’s whine broke through my thoughts of his marks on me and mine on him.
He had his head thrown to the side, his neck exposed almost like he was asking for what I wanted to give.
A better man would have been able to resist the temptation, but I couldn’t.
I pressed my lips to the spot where his neck met his shoulder, nipping gently, letting Misha feel my teeth.
“Oh god. Yes. Tucker. Bite me. Claim me. Make me yours!” Misha screamed the words, lifting his body into my teeth, and I went still. I wanted to believe he understood what he was asking for, but I didn’t know if it was the sex high or what he really wanted.
Lifting up, I studied his face that was still turned away from me. “Misha, look at me.”
When his eyes met mine, the black of his pupils nearly blotted out all of his icy blue iris, only the thinnest ring hanging on at the very edge.
His teeth had shifted too, now longer and pointier than his human teeth.
His body and his shifter side were craving the bite just as much as I was, but it was his human side, his human heart, that I had to be sure of.
“I told you before that I want everything with you, Misha. I know you’re mine. I want nothing more than to lean down and put my mark on your skin, but if I do, there’s no going back. We’ll be tied together forever because there is no way I’ll ever be able to give you up.”
His eyes swam with tears. “I already wear your marks, Tucker.” He held up his tattoo, and my heart did a somersault in my chest. “I know what a mate bite means, and I know I want to wear your mark.” He tried to look away, but I tipped his face back to mine.
“And I want you to wear mine.” My cock jumped inside him, and his lips tipped up in a sinful smile. “Make me yours, Tucker, and be mine.”
I brought my lips to his and kissed him as I thrust into him with long lazy strokes.
I could feel my papillae starting to rise, and I made sure Misha felt them too.
I swallowed down his gasps of pleasure until we were both breathless and on the edge of orgasm, then I moved my mouth to his neck, tucking his face into the crook of my neck too.
I let him feel my teeth, and he let me feel his.
Misha crossed his ankles over my back, forcing me into him so deep, and my teeth broke his skin at the same moment his teeth broke mine.
A flood of euphoria ran through me and my cock erupted filling the condom deep inside my mate.
I couldn’t wait until he was ready for babies.
I couldn’t wait to fill him up and clean up my cum and his slick with my tongue.
I couldn’t wait to see him pregnant with our little ones.
The moment his taste exploded on my tongue, I saw every moment of our future unfolding in front of us. It was the first moment of our forever.
Misha’s cock painted our stomachs with cum as his orgasm raced through him, and when he finally opened his eyes to look at me, I knew he’d seen the same things I had the moment we’d claimed each other.
He lifted himself off the desk, his fingers tugging at my hair, and pulled my mouth to his.
As we kissed, coming down from the high of our mating, Misha moved against me, gasping when he realized he could feel my papillae rubbing inside him.
“Fuck. That feels so good.”
I rolled my hips a little, and my mate whimpered, the sound so sweet it made my heart sing.
I lifted up, careful not to move too much while we were locked together, and lowered Misha’s legs, then I carefully lifted him into my arms and lowered myself into my desk chair, nestling Misha against my chest. He sighed contentedly and rested his head on my shoulder, his fingers gently tracing over the already healing mate mark on my neck.
But my attention wasn’t on the bite mark. It was on the other mark I’d left on him—his tattoo. I lifted his arm to look at the ink up close.
“This looks great. Even better than when I saw it earlier today. What are you putting on it?”
Misha lifted his head and looked at his arm too. “It’s a balm I made up. Beeswax, jojoba oil, coconut oil, shea butter, vitamin E, and calendula.”
“You made it?”
“Yes. I’ve been secretly testing the recipe since I knew I was going to get a tattoo, but it was in really small quantities.
I had the ratios almost perfect by the time I brought the recipe to Miss Abbott today.
She gave me the okay to make a larger batch.
That’s why it took me so long to get over here. ”
“How much did you make?” Earlier today, the edges of Misha’s tattoo had been a little red, a normal part of the healing process, even for shifters, but now, the tattoo looked perfect.
The redness was gone and there was no scabbing.
It looked fresh but well on its way to healed.
If his balm could do that, I wanted to sell it.
No, strike that. I wanted Misha to sell it.
“I have ten three-ounce jars. I brought a sample.” He made a move to get off my lap, forgetting until my papillae tugged against his sensitive rim that we were still locked together. “I’ll get it later.”
I laughed and pressed a kiss into his hair. “I want to buy the whole batch. What are you thinking for pricing?”
Misha stared up at me. “You want to buy it?”
“Yes. All of it. And I’m likely going to need more.”
He blinked at me, his eyes wide. “I saw the way your tattoo looked this morning, and see what it looks like now, and I could sell the shit out of it to our clients here.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Really.”
“You’d do that for me?”
I smiled. “I would do anything for you, Misha. I love you. I think I fell for you the first time you emailed me. We’re kindred spirits. Fated mates.”
Misha’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you too. I think I loved you even when you were a jerk on Valentine’s Day. There was something about you that called to me. Now I know it’s because you were meant to be mine.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m never going to live that day down, am I?”
Misha shrugged, his tears replaced by mischief. “Maybe. Eventually.”
I didn’t mind if he teased me about my bad attitude for the rest of our lives. As long as we were together, it didn’t matter how we’d met. He was mine now, and that was all I needed.
“It will make a fun story to tell our kids.”
He beamed at me. “One day.”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “One day.”
And as Misha rested his head on my shoulder again and covered my heart with his hand, the flashes of our future rolled out in front of me again, and I couldn’t wait for every single moment.