32. Fated End
Chapter Thirty-Two
Fated End
MILES
There was a thin layer of pristine white snow covering Dylan’s yard.
We had just gotten back from an away game the night before and had expected to wake up to the first snow of the season.
I watched the powdery flakes fall as I brewed some coffee for us.
Dylan walked into the kitchen wearing only his boxers, his hair still messy from sleep.
He’d let it grow longer than his usual buzz cut.
I thought he looked great with both styles and was more than happy to tell him that on multiple occasions.
There was no more holding shit back with Dylan. Life was far too precious to stay silent around the ones you loved.
“Morning, babe.” He came over and looped his arms around my chest, kissing my neck.
“Coffee?” I asked him as I poured him a mug. I already knew his answer.
“Fuck yes.” He kissed my neck again. I tilted my head to the side and closed my eyes.
I loved mornings like this. I’d been so used to being on my own, to starting my days without any good morning kisses or cuddles, that I didn’t realize how much I was truly missing.
There was something beautiful about starting off your day with someone you loved.
I turned around so that I could kiss him back. I held him in my arms, rubbed his back, felt his muscles shift and flex. “You were saying something in your sleep last night.”
“I was?” Dyl asked.
“Yeah. Something about an apple pie and a keg of beer.”
“Jesus, what the hell was I dreaming about?” Dylan chuckled as he kissed me again.
“That you were rushing a baking frat?” I suggested.
“Honestly, could be.” He laughed again, his eyes catching some of the morning sun that washed in from the windows around his kitchen.
One of his air fresheners let out a puff of pine-scented perfume but I couldn’t really smell it past the delicious smell of my fated mate.
Ever since I’d taken that bracelet off—a month ago now—I couldn’t get enough of how Dylan smelled.
It didn’t matter if he’d just woken up or if he just finished a sweaty round of training on the ice, I didn’t care.
I just knew he smelled like pure heaven.
His laughter slowed and his smile faded. “Better than the nightmares at least.”
He’d been having them ever since the night of the shooting.
Not all the time, but there were some nights that I’d wake up to Dyl yelling.
He’d explain that it was a replay of that night except it was him holding the gun.
I’d soothe him, remind him that it was all a dream, and then I’d hold him in my arms until his gentle twitches and snores told me he was asleep again.
We hadn’t slept apart a single night since then, and I wanted it to stay that way for as long as time would allow.
It helped that there were no more secrets surrounding our relationship.
I’d spoken to the coach and the GM about my relationship immediately after everything happened with Emmy.
They weren’t thrilled at the news but were grateful for the disclosure and said that as long as it didn’t interfere with work or the game, then it would be okay.
We also couldn’t be overly affectionate at the stadium or when we were playing away games, but that was a small trade-off to keeping my job and my relationship intact.
“Want to visit Emmy later today?” Dylan asked in a low voice.
“Of course. After lunch?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
We hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks.
It was difficult but also necessary just for our own sakes.
He was still in a coma, his body continuing to struggle with the silver poisoning.
The druids weren’t having any luck in curing him, but they were able to keep him stable and alive, which was what mattered right now.
Any second, minute, hour that they bought him took us one step closer to figuring out how to save Emmy and bring him back.
It wasn’t just the druids working to find a cure, either.
The entire pack was on it, directed by a confident but slightly shaky Chris, who had the alpha role thrust upon him after finding out Emmy chose him as his successor if anything were to happen.
“Come, let’s drink our coffee out in the yard,” I suggested. A little fresh air would be nice right now.
I grabbed my mug and Dyl grabbed his. He didn’t bother putting on any extra clothes. It was chilly but comfortable for us shifters. I was fine in my Burlington Bobcats tank top and sleeping shorts. Nike meowed at us before he went back to chowing down on his breakfast.
We sat together on the comfortable bench outside, our feet propped up on the gray table, the snow slowly drifting down and adding to the soft layer that covered the grass.
A gust of wind caused a swirl of snowflakes to float under the roof of his patio.
Some of it fell into my steaming cup of coffee.
Dylan leaned into me. His leg pressed against mine, his head resting on my shoulder.
We let the morning unravel peacefully around us.
It was a good day yesterday, with the Bobcats winning another game.
It had been in New York City, so we did a little exploring before heading back.
I liked the chaos of the city, but far preferred the serenity and quiet of this.
“What do you want to do today?” Dylan asked.
“Hang out with you.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it always.”
He chuckled at that. His hand rested on my thigh, his thumb rubbing soft circles against my skin.
My shorts were bunched up and exposed pretty much my entire leg.
I adjusted myself so that my leg rested on top of his.
Dylan’s hand explored a little higher. I took a sip of my coffee and set it down on the side table next to me.
“Want to go see a movie? There’s that comedy about stopping a runaway train that looks pretty good.”
“Is that the trailer you were cracking up at last night?”
“Yeah, that one. Funny as hell. I think you’d like it.”
I smiled. I wasn’t one for silly movies, but I found myself liking things that Dyl liked simply because of the joy it brought him. “Let’s do it.”
Dyl squeezed my thigh. He rubbed higher. “Awesome. Maybe we can check out that new Italian place downtown for dinner, too.”
I had an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. I trailed my fingers over his chest. Having him this close to me, his hand so high up my leg and his body heat washing over me, started shifting my thoughts away from dinner and more toward dessert.
I dropped my hand a little, fingers circling Dylan’s nipple, rubbing over it, feeling it become pebbled.
Dylan’s hand moved even higher. The side of his palm rubbed against my crotch. I opened my legs wider, inviting him to have at it. To do whatever he wanted to me.
Mornings were always when we were at our most feral. I enjoyed sex with Dylan at any time of the day or night, but something about mornings had us both raging with testosterone and a need to play with each other.
This morning was no different judging by how Dylan’s stiffening cock had already slipped through the opening of his boxers and started to throb in the air.
I smiled and brought his lips up to mine as his hand cupped my growing dick.
The coffee was quickly forgotten, and the peacefulness of the snowy moment was broken by a soft groan of pleasure from Dylan’s throat, which I swallowed greedily with my kiss.
He started to stroke me through my shorts. I rubbed my foot against his, both of us leaning back with our feet still up on the table. Dylan’s yard was completely private with a tall fence that blocked any of the neighbors, so we could get as wild as we wanted without fear of being seen.
I pulled my cock out through the leg of my shorts. It helped that I hadn’t been wearing any underwear. Dylan thumbed the leaking head. My eyes rolled back. I dropped my head and sighed, the sensation of his grip around my cock filling me with enough heat to melt all the snow in the yard.
“Fuck, I love these kinds of mornings with you,” I said as I leaned back so I could watch him jerk me off.
“I was never a morning person before you, you know that?”
“I would have never guessed.”
“Yeah, it’d take me like an hour to even say something. I was always grumpy as fuck.” He licked his lips, smiled, continued to stroke me nice and slow. He used my pre-cum as lube, making my cock slick in his hand.
“You look so grumpy right now,” I teased him.
“Oh, I’m pissed.” He playfully scrunched his brows together and gave me an angry face. The white streak over his eyebrow caught my attention. I laughed before I leaned in and kissed him, right where his birthmark was. It was an urge I just wasn’t going to ignore anymore.
“Fine, I guess I’m not angry,” Dylan said as his expression relaxed and his attention returned to my cock in his grip.
He slid off the bench and got onto his knees between mine.
He looked up at me, brow arched, lip curled into a seductive smile.
I loved seeing him from this angle. Ready to devour me while his own hard cock leaked.
“Fucccck, baby.” It came out as a hiss, the words pulled out of me the second his tongue wrapped around my head.
He was a pro at sucking my cock. Dylan knew exactly what to do.
I sat back and let him go to work. He was slow at first, working up and down, before he increased his pace, then brought a hand into the equation.
He wasn’t shy about it. Didn’t hold back on the noises and the spit.
It was so fucking hot and got me so fucking worked up.
It looked to have done the same to Dylan, who jerked himself off as he continued to blow me. I started to fuck his mouth, thrusting up and burying myself in his throat. He gagged and came up for a breath before he wiped his lips and went back in.
It wasn’t enough, though, and I think Dylan sensed that. I think he wanted the same thing I did.