ELIANO #3
Salt’s expression turns serious, his eyes searching my face. "Yes."
Doctor Cooper adds, "We’ve already done an ultrasound. The baby is fine, but we want to keep you under observation a bit longer. Any bleeding or contractions need to be reported immediately."
I reach out, and Salt reaches back. Our fingers touch, and I feel that familiar, almost divine shiver that always comes with his skin against mine. I squeeze my eyes shut.
"Fuck. That’s such a relief."
Doctor Cooper checks my blood pressure, then Salt’s.
"I know your regeneration will be faster than usual," he says, tapping something into his tablet. "But we can’t discharge you just now, so be patient."
"If it’s to make sure the baby is safe, I can stay here for nine months," I assure him.
The doctor leaves the room with a knowing smile.
Silence settles in.
Salt watches me closely, a small crease forming between his brows. I can almost see his head spinning with the rush of thoughts.
Our eyes lock, and he seems very serious when he speaks softly.
"Eliano… You really want this child with me?"
I let out a loud huff. "Oh yes, Salt! Very much!"
Salt tightens his grip on my fingers.
Silence again. His beautiful, feral face turns pensive, his gaze going unfocused as he clearly broods.
Soon after, a beta nurse comes in with food. As we eat, Salt and I exchange glances now and then.
We survived another storm.
Now it’s time to decide what comes next.
The good news is, one of my two plans is starting to take a clearer shape in my mind.
◆◆◆
That evening, as darkness settles in, I crawl into Salt’s bed.
He’s lying slightly on his side, probably because the scar under his arm is bothering him.
But when he feels me press in against his back, he lets out a low, faintly vibrating sound of invitation.
His hips start to make small, rubbing movements, his ass pushing back against my crotch.
I slide my hand down there. It’s my injured arm, and the scar pulls sharply, but I still need to drag my fingers over his damp opening.
Salt’s body responds instantly, a soft sigh escaping him as my fingertips circle the tight ring of muscle.
His body produces slick even more profusely under my teasing touch.
Every movement tugs at my wound, a dull ache radiating through my side, but the heat of his body drowns it out.
I press one finger in slowly, feeling the way he clenches around it.
He shifts just a fraction, his ass grinding back in a lazy rhythm we can manage, careful not to strain our scars that will hopefully be only a memory after this night.
My lips find the nape of his neck, brushing soft kisses over the smooth skin beneath the long strands of his dark blue hair.
The scar from my marking bite draws my attention.
I suck gently on his neck gland, my tongue tracing the edges of the mark, and Salt lets out a low moan, his body shivering slightly as my breath washes over the scar.
It’s obvious he loves this, the light graze of my teeth, as I nip at the spot, not hard, just enough to draw out that throaty sound from him, his hips twitching in response.
"You’re so perfect, Salt… everything about you, I just dig so much!"
He responds with something that vaguely sounds like a short purr, but I don’t dare to ask if he unlocked a new omega skill, since I have more interesting things to do.
With my free hand, that still hurts, I reach around to his front, wrapping my fingers around his hard cock.
It’s silky in my palm, already leaking at the tip, and I stroke him with slow pulls.
Salt’s breath hitches, his head falling back against my shoulder as I thumb over the head, smearing the precum down the shaft.
I cup his balls next, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten under my touch.
His nipples are next; I pinch one lightly between my fingers, twisting just enough to make him gasp, then soothe it with a soft rub.
"Salt… Let’s join," I whisper into his ear, and add nothing more for now, as I let my fingers wander down again, toward his entrance.
He whimpers, pushing back as I keep kissing his neck.
My own arousal presses insistently against his thigh, my cock hard and leaking.
I line myself up with his entrance. Unhurriedly, I nudge the head in, making small circular motions, trying to resist, but the heat of him quickly pulls me forward.
Inch by inch, I slide in there, both of us groaning at the stretch.
He’s so tight, gripping me like a glove, and sliding deeper into his body is a heavenly experience.
I have to close my eyes and breathe for a moment, trying not to get too heated.
As I bottom out, making him gasp a few times, our bodies finally end up spooned close together on the narrow hospital bed.
And so it can start. No wild thrusts or pounding, just this languid rock of my hips, the small space forcing us to savor every subtle shift.
I kiss his neck, cheek, and shoulder as I keep making shallow thrusts that drag along his walls. My hand returns to his cock, stroking him again with leisurely pulls.
"Mi fa nesciri pazzu pi quantu si strittu." (You drive me crazy with how tight you are.) I murmur against his ear. It’s almost as if he understands the words. They make him clench around me.
"I love it when you speak Sicilian to me," he whispers.
His fingers find mine on the bed, intertwining softly.
Salt’s body is a map under my touch; I trail my fingers over his chest, pinching his nipples again, rolling them until he arches just a bit, careful of the wounds. Then I go back down to his balls, squeezing gently, then up to his shaft, jerking him in time with my slow glides.
He moans louder now, the sound muffled against the pillow, his ass pushing back to meet me. The erotic slowness makes every sensation feel amplified: the wet slide of my cock, the constant throb of his dick. It all builds the bliss.
Then it suddenly spikes, like a spring storm. Salt comes hard, his body going rigid like a bow ready to shoot, his release splattering the sheets as his whole body shudders, his breath hitching. I follow moments later, burying deep with a final thrust, flooding him with my cum.
We stay locked like that through the night, the magic of Joining in its full power, we’re falling asleep, then waking up and continuing the slow sex.
In the quiet of the room, with the world outside forgotten, I can almost feel it, the magic of the healing bond surging between us, repairing us as we sway even in our sleep, still connected, letting it do its job.
◆◆◆
I wake at first light, and it is almost unbelievable that Salt and I are still joined, my cock tucked inside him, nearly fully hard. I know an all-night Joining like this is only possible for True Mates, and now I felt firsthand how it actually works.
I lie there for a moment, savoring the miracle of it. I lift my arm and tense my bicep. Nothing hurts. There is no trace of the gunshot wound at all.
Salt senses the movement behind him and stirs as well, letting out a soft, sleepy murmur. He squints, blinks slowly, still half lost in sleep.
I pull him closer, wrapping my arms around him, and then I catch a new scent, faintly sweet. My fingers brush over damp patches on his chest, and it stuns me. For a second I do not understand, and then it clicks.
Milk.
Salt does not seem to have noticed yet. He only hums softly as my hands keep moving over his chest. My lips warm his neck and cheek, and he mutters something under his breath, "It’s so early… do we really have to get up already…", but my hands refuse to stop.
A need swells inside me to say it out loud. I slowly slide my fingers down to his stomach, still completely flat. I feel the slightest tension in him the instant my fingertips graze his abdomen. I know he is waiting for my words now in a strange, subtle unease.
I lean in and whisper into his ear, "I… I feel so happy when I think about him. You know that, right?"
He does not answer. In the stillness of the hospital room, washed in the pale peach light of morning, I hear his breathing turn uneven.
We never really had a longer talk about the baby. It’s still kind of hanging between us, unsettled. I could tell Salt felt slightly weird about it, even if he didn’t say it outright, so I just let it drop. Until now.
"You need to know that I spend every minute thinking about our situation, trying to sort it out in my head. I finally have something that might work," I continue, then pause to take a breath. "At least in theory."
Salt’s fingers intertwine with mine.
"Eliano, I can tell how much pressure you put on yourself, for a guy who’s twenty—"
"An alpha can’t just sit around whining, Salt. He has to get his shit together. For now I’m not an ideal candidate for a father, but—"
I trail off, hesitating, unsure how to precisely frame it.
Salt snorts quietly. "Eliano. If anyone here isn’t fit to be a parent, it’s me. You’re the solid ground. The kind we can build on."
I frown slightly, our joined hands pressed against his belly now.
"Don’t say that. I’m the risky one here, ex-mafioso and all.
But you’d be an amazing dad. You’re tough as hell.
You’d run straight into fire for him without a second thought.
" I let my fingers wander again, up over his stomach, along his ribs, brushing his nipples.
As I sense a bit of his milk there, I scoop it up and lick it with exaggerated slurping.
Salt chuckles, but then I pinch his nipple gently and roll it between my fingers and he lets out a sharp breath, arching faintly into my touch.
"I just don’t want you thinking I expect miracles," he mutters, "I know this could take time. I’m ready for that."
"I promised I’d find a solution. And I think I’ve got it!"