Ian panted, his pants growing wet with slick. His cock strained in his briefs, and Brad gave it a slow squeeze. He savored the way Ian rose up on tiptoes, trying to push himself further into Brad’s fist.
So Brad pulled Ian’s briefs down, trapping its waistband beneath his balls. This left him completely exposed, his bare cock flushed against his clothes.
“Brad,” Ian hissed. He shoved his hips up, his cock so desperate that it had pushed completely out of his foreskin. Made Brad’s pants tight, seeing him this ravenous.
“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” Brad whispered, cupping Ian’s cock lightly in his hand. It was velvety, warm and heavy, and Brad sank to his knees. Took Ian past his lips, licking over his salty, slippery head.
Ian made a soft sound, helpless and delighted.
Then his hips snapped forward, his cock shoving into Brad’s mouth. Brad’s blood surged south.
“Open the door,” Ian gasped. He twisted his fingers into Brad’s hair, but instead of squirming away, he yanked Brad closer, his cock pushing down Brad’s throat.
Brad grew so hard it felt like his pants would split. This was different, feeling Ian’s desperation instead of just seeing it. Having Ian’s sensitive cock in his mouth, his chest heaving above, his eyelids fluttering shut.
Brad caught Ian’s hips, sliding Ian out of his mouth. He closed his lips around Ian’s foreskin, pulling it up to cover his velvety tip. Then he pushed it back down, and kissed Ian’s blunt head.
Ian whined. Brad reached further into Ian’s pants, finding the soaked fabric of his briefs. He leaned back, letting Ian’s cock drag down his tongue. “So ready for me.”
Ian trembled. Brad released his cock, admiring the fine veins crisscrossing it, the way it jerked under Brad’s attention.
“Anyone can see,” Ian panted.
But the street was empty, and traffic rumbled faintly in the distance. Brad handed him the keys. “Here.”
He turned Ian to face the door, pulled down Ian’s pants and briefs to expose his ass, and spread his cheeks.
Ian fumbled with the keys, his fingers scrabbling against the door. “Brad—”
“You like?”
Brad reached around. He felt Ian’s balls pull up tight, his cock growing thicker.
Never knew his omega had a kink like that. It made him preen, knowing he could claim Ian anywhere, and Ian would secretly be pleased with it.
Brad cupped Ian’s cheeks, pulling them apart with his thumbs. Nestled between, he found Ian’s hole, pink and tight, a sheen of damp smeared all over it. Gods, Brad wanted to open that hole with his cock, wanted to see it stretched around him, Ian taking him all the way inside.
So he leaned in, dragging his tongue flat across Ian’s entrance, pausing to taste its puckered skin. He was musky, salty.
Ian panted, his key skidding off the keyhole. “You’re—you’re really doing this.”
“What else does it look like?”
“Gods, Brad.” Ian fumbled with the door. Brad pushed his finger into Ian’s hot, snug hole, swirling it around inside.
Ian trembled. He struggled with the key, and Brad glanced behind them. Still no one. So he massaged Ian’s prostate, and Ian shuddered, his hole clenching around Brad’s finger.
Ian was so damn delicious, and Brad had the feeling his omega had no idea how good he looked.
So Brad decided to give him a chance. He paused for a moment so Ian could slide the key into the door. Then Brad got to his feet, pushed a second finger into Ian’s tight ass, and Ian wheezed.
“Let’s get you inside,” Brad whispered.
He closed his hand around Ian’s, turning the key. Opened the door to their home, nudging Ian into the living room.
The moment the door closed, Ian sagged. “I can’t believe you did that. Right against the front door, Brad!”
Brad pushed down hard on his prostate. “I’m not done yet.”
Ian arched against him.
Brad shoved down Ian’s pants. “Undress yourself.”
Ian obeyed, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Brad kicked off his shoes, waiting for Ian to do the same. Then he walked Ian to their bedroom, stopping him in front of the bedroom mirror.
The mirror was a wide one, full-length, black-framed, and wall-mounted. But the beauty of it lay in its reflection—Ian with his cheeks flushed, his hair mussed, his fingers slipping on the last button of his shirt. Then he pulled the shirt open, and Brad splayed his hand over Ian’s narrow chest, dragging his wrist down Ian’s skin.
“Mine,” Brad growled, meeting Ian’s eyes through the mirror. “Want you to look at yourself. See how good you look.”
He withdrew his fingers from Ian’s ass. Pulled Ian’s shirt off his arms, stepped down on Ian’s pants, pushing the rest of his clothes down his legs.
And now Ian was completely naked, his skin pale, his body gleaming with sweat.
Brad dragged his hands down Ian’s chest to his waist, to his hips. Ian smelled like walnut and musk. He was Brad’s.
“You look better than me,” Ian said, averting his eyes. “You should be the one in front of the mirror.”
Brad pressed a kiss to Ian’s shoulder. “This is the man I love. Look at him.”
Ian sucked in a sharp breath. “I still can’t believe it.”
Brad snorted. “You’re really stubborn when it comes to that, you know?” He cupped Ian’s cheek anyway, turned him to face his own reflection. “Look. I mean it.”
Ian’s throat worked. He glanced reluctantly at himself—his chest, the scars on his arms. He brought his hands up to cover them, and Brad caught his wrists.
“No, those too. They’re part of you. Not something I want hidden,” Brad whispered.
Ian breathed out shakily. Then, slowly, he let his hands fall to his sides.
“I love all of this,” Brad said against his shoulder. He stroked down Ian’s arms, tangling their fingers together. Then he caught Ian’s waist, caressing the hollows of his hips, and brushed his fingers across the scars on Ian’s thighs. Cupped the bump of Ian’s belly, and Ian’s flushed cock with his other hand. “Every single inch of you.”
Ian met his eyes, uncertain.
“You love me,” Brad whispered. “Why is it so difficult to
