22. Noah
NOAH
Iwake up to darkness and a bigger bed than I’m used to. It takes me a minute to piece it together. This is Gabriel’s bunk, and the light is off. The warmth I fell asleep against is gone, and there’s murmuring near the door.
I hold still and keep my breathing low, listening.
“Thanks for checking in, Sergeant, but I’m fine.” Gabriel’s voice, quiet, rough with sleep.
A hum from the other side of the door. I know that hum. It’s Okafor. Of course it’s Okafor.
“Reyes isn’t in his bunk. Thought you might want to know.”
My pulse spikes so hard it makes my ears ring. I crack my eyes open enough to see Gabriel’s silhouette in the doorframe, and I watch him tilt his head. Casual. He’s good.
“Must be wandering around the base again. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
“As you say, sir.” A pause follows, long enough to let me imagine my court-martial. “I’ll do another headcount at oh-three-hundred. If he’s not there, I’ll come back and let you know.”
Gabriel doesn’t hesitate. “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Make sure you don’t strain your stitches, sir,” Okafor adds. “We need you in fighting condition ASAP.”
Then gravel crunching under his boots, fading away. The door clicks shut, and Gabriel stands there with his good hand still resting on it, and I see his shoulders drop an inch.
He turns, and I lift the edge of the blanket in invitation. He crosses the room and eases in beside me, careful of the sling, and the bunk groans again.
“Think he knows, sir?” I murmur into the dark.
Gabriel sighs. “He knows something.”
I narrow my eyes in thought. “So why isn’t he doing something about it? Why isn’t he reporting us?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I can almost feel him thinking. “I’m not sure yet. But you should head back to your bunk.”
I smirk, then slide my hand onto his chest, stopping right over where his heart is beating. “He said oh-three hundred, didn’t he?” I tilt my chin at the clock glowing green on the footlocker. “Means I have two and a half hours.”
“For what exactly?” he asks, sounding suspicious.
I let my grin spread wider. “For this.”
Then I slide down his body before he can argue.
His belt is already off, so I just have to undo the buttons. I’ve got them open and his pants dragged down his hips while he’s still drawing a breath to object. His cock lies heavy against his thigh, and I wrap my hand around it and stroke, slow and firm, feeling it thicken in my palm.
“Reyes—” he chokes out.
“You got shot yesterday,” I whisper into the crease of his hip.
“You went down, and you didn’t move, and for three seconds I thought you were gone.
” I drag my fist up his length and feel him swell against my fingers.
“So I’m going to show you how thankful I am that you’re here. Lie still and let me.”
He’s fully hard by the time I finish my sentence. I take him into my mouth, and the groan he muffles with his forearm is worth every risk I’ve ever taken on this base.
I don’t tease him tonight. Don’t build it up slowly, don’t play any games.
I take him deep on the first pass, my tongue flat along the underside, and set a rhythm that says you’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive.
His good hand finds my hair and grips, holding me, and his hips shift up in small, stunted pulses like his body can’t believe its luck.
I love this. I love the weight of him on my tongue, the salty taste, the way his thighs go rigid under my forearms when I hollow my cheeks.
I love that fifty meters away, men are sleeping who think this man is made of regulations, and I’m the only one who knows the sound he makes when his control comes apart.
I hum around him just to feel him twitch, and his breath goes ragged.
“Noah.” My name, hoarse, barely there. “Noah, I’m—I’m going to—”
Warning received and ignored.
I suck harder, work him faster, and his whole lower body bows off the mattress.
The second he starts to come, I pull back just enough to catch it on my tongue—swallowing him down at the back of my throat is a waste, and I want to taste him, every pulse of it, hot and bitter and his.
He spills across my tongue in waves, his hand fisted in my hair, his forearm crushed over his mouth to strangle a sound that would’ve woken the wire guards.
I hold him in my mouth until the last shudder leaves him, then let him slip free and swallow, slowly, so he can watch me do it.
“Christ,” he breathes at the ceiling. “You’re going to kill me before the Wolves ever get the chance.”
“Nobody gets the chance.” I sit up and straddle his thighs, keeping my weight low and off his hips, making sure nothing strains his shoulder. My own cock has been aching since I got my mouth on him, and I pull it free of my pants and wrap my fist around it with a hiss of relief.
Gabriel’s eyes track down my body and stop there. Even in the dark, I can see his eyes go molten silver.
“Watch me, sir,” I whisper, stroking. “That’s all you have to do. Doctor’s orders and everything.”
He watches. God, does he watch. Propped up by the pillow with his slinged arm cradled against his ribs, his gaze moves between my face and my fist like he can’t decide which view he needs more. His spent cock gives a twitch against his belly that makes me grin.
“You know what I keep thinking about?” My voice comes out rough as my hand picks up speed.
“What comes next. The thing I haven’t had yet.
” I lean forward, bracing my free hand beside his good shoulder, my face close enough to feel his breath.
“I can’t wait to feel your cock in my ass, sir.
Can’t wait until your shoulder heals and you can hold me down and take what’s yours.
You said I’m yours. I want you to prove it. I want to feel you for days after.”
“Fuck.” The word punches out of him. His good hand grips my thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and that little bit of pain is just the push I need to tip me over the edge.
I can see it so clearly in my head—his weight, his hands, that low voice in my ear saying hold still.
My eyes roll back, my rhythm goes to hell, and I come with a sound I strangle to almost nothing, painting his softening cock with hot stripes of my cum.
Marking him. Mine on his, mixed where nobody can see it but us.
I stay there for a moment, shaking, one hand planted on the mattress, catching my breath while he stares at the mess I made of him. Then I slide back down.
“Noah—” It’s a warning. His cock is spent and sensitive, and I don’t care.
“Shh. I made a mess. I need to clean it.” I drag my tongue up his length, slowly, cleaning my release off his skin, and he shudders under me, his hand back in my hair, gripping me like the sensation is right on the edge of too much.
I take my time anyway, making sure to get every drop.
When I finish, I press one last kiss to his hipbone and crawl back up to the narrow strip of mattress beside him.
We lie there catching our breath. The clock says 0019. Two hours and forty-one minutes.
“It tastes better when it’s mixed,” I tell him.
“There is something deeply wrong with you,” Gabriel says, but his good arm comes around me anyway, pulling me against his side.
“You already knew that, sir. You read my file.”
“Your file understated it,” he replies dryly.
I laugh into his neck, quietly, and I feel him almost laugh back. His heartbeat slows under my palm. Outside, the generators hum, and somewhere in the dark, Okafor is walking the base, thinking about my empty bunk.
I set an alarm for 0300 in my head, then soak in every minute of lying in bed with Gabriel I can.