Chapter Thirteen
Wulf
I hadn’t hoped that we’d be to this point so fast, but now that we were, I thanked Fate as I let Stryker into my home.
And I kind of wished I’d set up a nicer place to welcome guests, but my omega didn’t seem to notice the boring decor at all as we moved from the living room down the hallway to the master bedroom.
I flicked on the bedside lamp before reaching for him again and wrapping him in my arms.
He’d been through so much, and even while kissing him, I marveled at his giving spirit, his willingness to move again into life after it practically shut him out. He had shown me the way to do that, too. Just by existing.
Undressing him slowly, I learned his body, beyond the thigh I’d already seen.
The perfection of every dip and groove and plane brought tears to my eyes.
I’d never thought a lot about my physique beyond staying in the best shape I could to take care of my patients and generally live.
Shifters were lucky in that we rarely got sick and healed so well, and we grew to expect that.
What kind of a shock had it been for him when the professionals who could have done such a better job for him let him down so badly?
Not that he would have recognized their fault.
How could he? As the only physical therapy practice for many miles around focused on shifters, we provided a level of service tailored to the two-natured.
Healers might not have the experience, and a human therapist would be working from the place where humans lived.
From my training, I knew a human would have never walked again after this. Most likely.
A pack alpha might have been able to force a shift that would have at least started healing. At the time. If they had moved quickly.
A moan pulled me back from my anger at those who’d let my omega down to the fact that he was in my arms now and this was not about treatment. My colleague would provide that for him, based on my plan and his needs as they changed. Would he ever shift?
I hoped so, for his sake in living life the way he’d want to, but if not, I hoped he could still be happy. He had so many qualities to value, and I’d make sure he knew how much I appreciated them all.
His clothes lay scattered around us on the floor, and I laid him on my bed before efficiently removing mine and joining him there.
My wolf hung far in the background, although I was always aware of him, part of me.
If I couldn’t shift would he still be there?
It seemed my mate’s was—thank the Goddess for sparing him the loneliness of living without his mental presence at least.
He shifted restlessly under me, and I glided my hand down his chest while my kisses traveled from his face to his throat, gently sucking where I would place my mark in a while. Like a tattoo artist drawing before the needle, I left a purple ring in the spot I chose.
Nipples poked against my palms as I caressed his chest, as beautiful as any statue and continued downward to close around his erect cock.
Every part of him was sculpted, the damaged leg almost setting off the rest. Like the flaw in an Amish quilt or a chip in one of those magnificent statues.
He might hate how it happened, but athletes got hurt all the time and rarely in the ways they’d expect.
Yes, we would make him better, but anything that was a part of him I could love.
Kneeling between his knees, I stroked his cock in long, smooth strokes, bending to kiss the thigh that caused him so much pain before closing my lips around his deep-red head and tasting him.
The saltiness blended with his warm, spicy scent, tantalizing and intense.
Cradling his ball sac in one palm, I sucked him deep into my throat, head bobbing while his groans and soft cries drove me onward.
As he writhed under me, I trailed fingertips into his slick, using the slippery arousal to prepare him for my cock.
With a gasp, he dug his fingers into my hair and held me still while pumping into my mouth, cum pouring down my throat while I struggled to swallow it all, three of my fingers deep in his ass.
When he fell back, I moved up the bed, bringing his knees to his chest and fitting my cock to his ready hole. Tight, but he would take me. An inch at a time, I drove in and pulled back, conquering territory new to me but so much like coming home. My omega. My mate. My fated one.
His eyes closed, and I reached up to stroke his face. “Look at me, mate. I want to see your eyes while we complete the bond.” I wouldn’t be long. Already, cum boiled in my balls, my mate’s body enveloping me, his cock hard again. “Stroke yourself. Show me how you like it.”
“Yes, alpha.” His fist moved from clutching the comforter to around his dick, beginning a rhythm that would forever be embedded in my mind.
Of all people, Striker knew his body best. But watching him throw his head back, eyes still holding mine and a second orgasm hit, the thick substance boiling out of his cock more than my self-control could handle.
With a roar, I joined him, bending at the exact moment to sink my fangs into the spot I’d sucked into a light bruise earlier.
Braced on my forearms on either side of him, I lost myself in the experience of this omega, our scents minging, sweat dripping onto his chest, his tightness milking the last of my cum before my knot swelled, pushing the walls outward, filling him completely.
I lapped the wound, my saliva sealing it and ensuring the mark that would show anyone he belonged to me.
“You’re beautiful, my omega,” I crooned, rolling to the side and bringing him with me to hold him tight while my knot held. “Every inch of you.”
“You make me feel that way, alpha.” He sighed. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, my fated one.”
When my body freed us, I kept my arms around him and gradually drifted into sleep, at peace for the first time in a very long time and happier than I’d ever been.
They said when you met your fated, you would be forever changed, that nothing compared, and while it did not make my love for my chosen one less, this was different. Nothing compared.