38. Perfect. Mate. Mine.
Perfect. Mate. Mine.
Rowan
The late afternoon sun paints Milo’s skin in an alluring shade of pale gold where the sheets have slipped down to expose him. Half his face is buried in the pillow, one hand is shoved underneath it, and one knee is hitched up.
Stretching out long in the bed beside him, careful not to disturb, I check in with my wolf. He’s content, for the time being, just to breathe in our mixed scents and feel the steady pulsing of his mate’s heartbeat through the mattress.
Rolling onto my side, I carefully sweep a lock of Milo’s hair back so that I can watch him sleep.
Truly, he’s beautiful. Tucking the strands away, I briefly catch my finger on the longer scaffolding bar that runs through the top of his ear, but he doesn’t wake.
Hovering just above his skin, I trace along his defined cheekbone to the tip of his nose, noticing for the first time the engraving in his septum piercing depicts a Celtic Knot, then down to his Cupid’s bow…
Where he opens his mouth and suddenly grips the tip of my finger between his teeth.
“Hi,” I say through a smile, leaving my finger a happy hostage in his mouth.
“Hi,” he returns, pushing it out with a kiss. Then, “Creepy to watch people sleep, you know.”
“Not when that person’s yer mate,” I reply, cupping the side of his cheek.
“Do you still want to… the whole mate thing?”
Frowning, I shuffle to sit up, the sheets pooling in my lap. “I meant everything I told ye, Milo. Every word. Do ye… not?”
He shakes his head and rolls onto his back. “Yeah. Yes, I do, I mean. Want to be your mate. But I meant more the erm…”
“Ah.” I smile as understanding dawns. “The claiming? The part where my wolf will bite ye?”
“Yeah.” He nods, cheeks blooming pink. “And the erm, the other thing, the… knotting. How’s it work?”
“Well.” I clear my throat. “Firstly, mostly it’s a reproductive thing. Alphas mate most often with omegas, and it helps secure a pregnancy.”
“I’m not an omega, though. I can’t get pregnant.” Milo seems a little… sad at that fact.
I offer him my upturned hand, and he slides his slender fingers between mine.
“Okay, but we’ve established that’s not a problem; it’s ye we want.
It’s ye who’s our mate. I won’t lie to ye, I want to knot ye because the idea of ye locked on me heats my blood.
But also, my wolf will be better able to bond with ye if he can knot ye after he bites ye.
But we’re not rushing this. I won’t hurt ye for it. ”
Milo’s legs fidget and stretch under the sheet, and he exhales a quiet, “Okay.”
I squeeze his hand. “Okay?”
He retracts his hand from mine and slides it under the sheet. I can tell instantly what he’s doing, and before he’s drawn his next breath, I’ve whipped the sheet off the bed and nudged his legs apart to climb between them. If he’s agreeing to be my mate, then there’s no hiding.
His semi-hard cock disappears and reappears inside his fist as he languidly strokes himself. Shameless, I watch. Milo’s hair being so pale gives the illusion that he’s hairless. He isn’t, I observe, but it’s close.
Mirroring him, I take myself in hand, and push his legs wider with my knees. He bites his lip, and I smirk.
“Yer stunning like this, Pup. Can I touch ye?”
“We’ll have problems if you don’t,” is his confident reply.
Releasing myself, Milo’s gaze fixed firmly on the proud way my cock stands to attention between us, I smooth the flats of my palms up the inside of his thighs. When I reach his hips, I drag my blunt nails back down until I reach his knees.
Hooking my fingers under them, I hoist his legs up. Instinctively, needily, Milo rocks his pelvis a bit. Each upward tilt exposes and opens him to me and my wolf.
“Werewolves mate for life,” I croon. “Every one of yer orgasms will be mine, yer pleasure will be mine…”
“Knot me,” Milo says, breathless.
He sinks his head back into the pillow as he tries in vain to tug the tension from his sac. My low and rumbling growl of approval washes over him as a full-body shudder, and he sucks a finger into his mouth to wet it before lightly tracing it around his closed hole.
I dig my fingers into the soft flesh at the inside of his thighs, and lick my lips. “Yer going to need a lot of prep, Pup.”
Milo nods. “I still want it.”
Turning my head to the side, I brace my blunt teeth against the inside of his knee. This is going to be the biggest test of my patience.
Leaning over him, I stretch until I can get my fingertips to the handle of the drawer on the nightstand, then retrieve the tub of lube. Unscrewing the lid, I settle it on the bed beside Milo’s foot.
I scrape a finger through the solidified cream, and then with my gaze locked intently on his, swipe and rub it into the tight furl of skin around his hole. Purposefully not breaching him.
Milo bites on his lip, cheeks pinkening with the most adorable blush, and then he nods his consent.
Exhaling any remaining tension, I dig another gouge in the lube, and this one I push deep inside my mate where his body heat will melt it. If he were an omega, he’d produce his own slick, but he isn’t and this stuff works just the same.
Arching his back off the bed angles his pelvis down, encouraging my index finger deeper. Oh, he likes that. My cock gives a satisfied twitch. With my finger buried as deep as I can get it, I crook it inside him… searching as I learn my new mate.
Milo’s elevated heart rate is music to my wolf’s ears, but we’re only just beginning. Smiling down at him, I rotate my wrist, and… there! His sharp intake of breath helps me locate what I was looking for. “I’m going to make this so good for ye, Pup.”
Withdrawing my finger, I return it to the tub to gather more lube.
He stops stroking himself in favour of gently outlining his own slick hole.
Knowing that he wants to be involved in this, that he’s curious and engaged with how I handle him, kicks my lust up a gear.
My mate is actively choosing this—he wants us as much as I do.
“What lube is that?”
“It’s more of a silicone cream than a lube. Here.” I hold the tub for Milo to dig a couple of fingers into.
“Oh, it’s so thick.” He makes a pincher finger motion with it, watching as it heats and liquidates, then smears it over his almost hairless sac, massaging it in while I watch.
“That’s the point. It’s longer lasting, so wolves prefer it, and will help protect ye better.”
Both of his hands are now working to coat the smooth skin of his dick. Alternating in long and sinuous movements, he drags sure strokes from his crown down and over his balls.
My gums itch with the need to bite into his sensitive flesh, but I resist—the time will come.
His languid massage helps his muscles loosen, and I push a second broad finger inside him. He takes it well, the viscous cream easing the glide, but there’s a slight tightening at the edges of his grey eyes. “Breathe, Milo. Ye can take more than this.”
Scooping more lube, and heating it between my fingers, I methodically scissor him open. To help distract from any discomfort, I firmly stroke the thumb of my other hand along that spot just under his sac.
Milo’s moan is dizzying, and my wolf purrs in contentment at how well we’re pleasing our mate.
“I love when you press there. You did it last night. Feels so good,” he slurs.
Filing that away for the future, I ease off a little. He has a long way to go yet, and his hole is still vicelike around my fingers.
Keeping Milo’s focus with me and what I’m doing, and less on how he’s feeling, I ask, “Show me how to please ye—what ye used to do when ye were alone.”
His fingers have a slight tremble when he wraps them around his slender cock, which is longer than most omegas’, I note, but about the same girth. He concentrates all his attention on the head, stroking his thumb over the slit to collect the precum that pools there.
Leaning over his lithe body, I bend down to taste my mate for the first time, and seamlessly switch my two fingers for my two thumbs.
Closing my eyes in organic ecstasy, I do a Milo—and experience a full-body shudder. Sucking harder, and swirling my tongue around his engorged head, I recognise the distinct flavour of early-season apples. Greedily, I suck him down to the root, my thumbs still weighing on his hole.
Suddenly, Milo pushes up onto his elbows, curling himself deeper and forcing me off him with a pop.
Before I can straighten, he licks into my mouth and tastes his own preseed from his alpha’s tongue.
Our kiss is dirty and sloppy and feral. My mate might not be a wolf, but he’s instinctively doing all the right things to appease my inner beast.
I can hardly wait for the day that I’ve kept him so well sated I can push my way in with ease. “Soon,” I tell myself.
I break our kiss, place another to Milo’s forehead, and take one thumb out to generously scoop three fingers in the silicone cream. When he lays himself back down among the pillows, exhaling naturally, I slowly work all three fingers inside him.
His lean torso tenses, displaying tight and strained hip flexors, but he takes himself in hand to ease the sting, and I resume that firm massage of his taint to help loosen his pelvic floor.
Milo’s moan is lust-drunk, but there’s also an edge to it I can’t place.
I go to remove my hand—there’s another technique I can try—but his fingers grip my wrist decisively. With three fingers pushed so far inside him that I have to tuck my little finger into my palm, I pause.
My mate fists the sheets with his free hand, and curls his lower back up.
Oh, he likes that, but the angle’s wrong. “Hang on, let me help ye. Keep yer hips up a minute.”
Helping support his weight, I switch from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, and then extend my right leg under his hips in place of a pillow.
He shuffles forward a little, raising his hips even higher and really maximising my downward pressure on his hole.
When he settles and exhales, I spread my fingers a little and marvel at the gape that opens up.