Chapter Fifteen
CHRISTIAN
Christian came slowly awake to the familiar sounds of Dave puttering around in the bathroom. He stretched out luxuriously, taking advantage of having the whole bed to himself, and hissed as a whole series of aches and pains made themselves known.
Damn, last night’s fight had been hard, and all the better for it.
Mornings after, though? Not his favorite.
At least, that was always the case until Dave stopped looking at him with the slightly pinched look that gave away just how much he hated seeing Christian hurt and got to work with a hot topical treatment cream, followed by a bone-melting massage.
Dave knew how to give a massage like no one else on this earth.
For once, there was nothing pulling at him. No shadowy threats or pack politics. Just the ache of a hard-won fight and the certainty of Dave’s hands waiting to fix him. Christian would have wriggled in anticipation if it wouldn’t wake every bruise on his body.
Instead, he turned over so he was lying on his front, pushed the sheets down to ease the way for Dave’s massage, and waited impatiently for him to finish whatever he was doing so he could come and make everything better again.
He was shaving, judging by the low buzz and tuneless humming he could hear. Dave always hummed when he shaved, even though he swore he didn’t. Christian smiled into the pillow at the familiarity of it, the life they had together.
Lying on his front like this, pressing his morning wood against the sheets, was beginning to feel good.
He moved his hips slightly, and it felt really good.
Dave had better hurry the hell up, or there’d be nothing left for him to wrap that talented hand of his around once he’d massaged the rest of Christian into a state where he was both relaxed and turned on as hell.
Just so long as Dave remembered to wash the treatment cream off his hands thoroughly first, because the one time he’d forgotten to do that had not been fun.
Even the memory of it stopped Christian from grinding himself into the sheets again.
His eyes closed slowly as the humming continued in the bathroom, and he began to drift back to sleep, only to rouse with a jerk as he remembered the rest of last night—Barton’s offer to have them join his pack.
Excitement thrummed through him, and he couldn’t wait for Dave to come to him.
He rolled out of bed and padded through to the bathroom.
Dave was patting his face dry with the towel when Christian stole up behind him, sliding his arms around his waist and putting his chin on Dave’s shoulder.
Who cared if he had to reach up slightly to do that, when it meant he could breathe in the scent of Dave and press his very awake cock against the warm curve of Dave’s ass?
“Morning,” he said against Dave’s ear, his voice deep with the remnants of sleep.
“So I see,” Dave said, and the fond smile in his voice was almost as good as the way he pushed back slightly against Christian in apparently unconscious invitation.
He nuzzled into Dave’s neck, nipping lightly at the warm skin there, and looked into the mirror just long enough to see the way Dave’s eyes had gone dark and his mouth was slightly open.
He returned his attention to Dave’s neck, and this time when Dave pushed back against him, it was less like invitation and more like demand.
When he raised his head again, Dave’s lips were parted, little sounds puffing out with every breath as Christian rubbed his hot cock against his ass, beginning to think he might not last long enough to give Dave what he so obviously wanted.
He swept his hands over Dave’s chest, short, blunt fingers pausing to tug gently at his nipples, then pinch them in the way that had Dave making little choked-off sounds.
He loved those noises Dave made almost as much as he loved the way they looked together in the mirror—his hands on Dave’s body, and the strength of his arms binding them together.
“Where—” Christian started, because there had to be lube. They were in a bathroom, for God’s sake.
Dave instantly rooted around in his shaving kit and passed the bottle back to Christian. And then he was hissing and shuddering as Christian’s lubed finger pressed inside him.
“Fuck, that’s cold,” he said, but the complaint in his voice gave way to a gasp as Christian started working him, and his head hung down between broad shoulders, body trembling as Christian started to open him up properly.
There was nothing Christian loved more than Dave coming apart for him like this.
He could just see the top of Dave’s head in the mirror and the way his arms were braced.
Dave was pushing back onto Christian’s fingers, so eager for more, and Christian cradled his chin in his free hand, bringing his face gently up till Dave was looking at Christian in the mirror, eyes so intense, color in his cheeks and flushing down his chest. He looked beautiful—shameless, and every last part of him was Christian’s.
And when his mouth opened on a silent gasp as Christian added another finger, it was too much.
“Hands on the mirror,” he said. God, his voice was hoarse and wrecked already and he hadn’t even gotten inside Dave yet.
But Dave obeyed, just the way he always did, and Christian lined up and pressed home, deep inside, torn between watching the way Dave opened up so beautifully for his cock and the way he was staring at himself in the mirror, eyes dazed and dark.
“That’s it,” Christian whispered against his ear as he slid fully home. “Oh God, you feel so good.”
And he did—tight and slick and hot, and Christian couldn’t wait another second.
His hips were moving before he knew what he was doing, falling into the rhythm he knew Dave loved in the mornings, slower than usual but merciless, not giving him a chance to back off from the edge Christian was keeping him on.
Christian reached down and swept his fingers over the head of Dave’s cock. He was wet as hell already.
The groan that shook Dave had Christian looking at him again in the mirror.
His mouth was lax, his eyes fluttering closed every time Christian pushed all the way in, only to open again as he pulled back.
When Christian buried his mouth in Dave’s neck and nipped sharply at him, it was over—no real warning, just Dave shuddering around him and gasping something that might have been a curse or Christian’s name.
And Dave clenching so tight around him, face slack with ecstasy, drew it out of Christian until he was coming, lost before he knew it.
His arms clenched tight around Dave as he folded over him, cheek to warm skin, breathing harder than he had a right to, given his workout regime. This. This was what he needed, more than anything, to ground him and keep him sane.
“Hell of a way to start the day,” he mumbled.
Dave moved under him, and Christian became aware that he was probably a lot more comfortable than Dave was right now. He didn’t want to move, though, because he could close his eyes and fall asleep wrapped around Dave like this.
He could scarcely remember his life without Dave, and he didn’t want to. Before Dave, there’d been no softness, no warmth shining from steady eyes. On the other hand, neither had there been a sharp elbow in his ribs nor someone wriggling underneath him.
“What?” he mumbled, breathing in Dave’s scent, the smell of home.
“You’re squashing me,” Dave said. “Also? Pretty sure there’s cum on my foot.”
Christian snorted and finally, reluctantly, disentangled himself. “And they say romance is dead.”
He planted a smacking kiss on Dave’s smoothly shaved cheek and waltzed into the shower. Life didn’t get much better than this.