Ian gasped, curling his fingers against Brad’s waist. Brad bit and sucked on his scent gland, until Ian’s body sang and his musk swallowed them both, and his cock dripped.
“I need,” Ian panted, his body taut with desire.
“Gonna have to wait.” Brad kissed the bonding mark. He began to unbutton Ian’s shirt, one button after another. As the shirt parted, cool air brushed Ian’s chest.
Then Brad kissed up Ian’s throat, and nipped at his jaw.
“I lost track of how many times we’ve fucked,” Brad whispered, his breath puffing on Ian’s skin. “But I haven’t had enough of you. Can’t seem to get enough.”
He caught Ian’s hand, shoving it down against the bulge in his pants. Ian moaned.
Brad was big. Ian knew that, and every time, he couldn’t wait for Brad to be inside, that blunt tip leaving smears of precome all over his skin.
Hungry, Ian fumbled with Brad’s pants, the zipper’s rasp loud in the room. Brad’s cock pushed out at him, straining behind his boxers. Ian stroked its heavy length, his fingers dragging against the damp fabric at its tip. Brad groaned.
“It’s so big,” Ian breathed.
“Bigger inside,” Brad growled, kissing the corner of Ian’s lips.
Then he kissed Ian hard, pushing into Ian’s mouth, spreading Ian open like how he would Ian’s ass. Ian whimpered.
Brad tasted like tea and crackers. He smelled like musk and smoke and walnut, and he gripped Ian’s hair, tipping Ian’s face up so he could devour Ian’s mouth.
Ian’s spine arched. He tangled their tongues, opening for his alpha. Groaned when Brad undid the last button and shoved his shirt off his shoulders, down his arms. Ian squirmed out of his pants, needing to feel his alpha against him.
And then Brad paused, glancing at Ian’s arms.
There were some new scabs from a few days ago, thin, dark lines on top of the silvery scars. Ian had to fight his instincts to hide them.
Instead of blaming him, Brad met Ian’s eyes. “You gonna stop that now that you’re back?”
Ian gulped. Brad’s gaze wasn’t judgmental, or repulsed. He looked at Ian steadfastly, and beneath that, Ian felt Brad’s trust in him.
Brad truly believed that Ian could heal.
Ian inhaled, holding on to Brad’s waist. If Brad had faith in him, if Brad believed that Ian didn’t need to hurt himself... Then Ian would try his best not to disappoint his alpha.
“Yeah,” Ian whispered. “I’ll stop.”
Brad cracked a smile then, cradling Ian’s face. “I’m proud of you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“But I know you will. That’s good enough for me.”
Ian gulped, his throat squeezing tight. “I don’t deserve y—”
“You do.” Brad kissed Ian’s scabs, meeting his eyes. “And I’ll try my best to be the best alpha for you.”
Ian blushed, bowing his head. He wanted Brad in his life; that would never change. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Brad whispered. “For coming back, and for being mine.”
Then he kissed Ian, sucking Ian’s lower lip into his mouth. Ian’s blood throbbed between his legs. “Brad—”
“Wanna hear you.” Brad scooped Ian into his arms, crossing the room. He deposited Ian in the middle of the bed, where it smelled like walnut and nothing else. “This bed needs to smell like you, too,” Brad murmured. “And it needs to smell like I’ve given you a thorough fucking.”
That made Ian leak. He groaned, kicking off his briefs. Then he spread his legs, and Brad’s musk rolled through the air between them, his gaze burning down Ian’s body.
“Been dreaming of you,” Brad growled, shucking his clothes. “The whole time at the hospital, I wanted you in our bed. Wanted to give you my knot. Wanted you in my arms.”
Ian trembled, his hole slick. He was ready for Brad. Beyond ready.
Brad flung his shirt aside, then stepped out of his soot-covered pants. The dawn sunlight streamed through the window, lighting his pecs and his abs, his biceps and his thighs. And between his legs, Brad’s cock jutted up, his tip glistening with precome.
Ian moaned, just looking at him. He loved this alpha. He wanted Brad closer, wanted Brad opening him up, pounding him into the mattress, until all Ian knew was pleasure, and his bondmate.
Brad crawled onto the bed, his weight pushing indents into the mattress. Ian squirmed onto his back. Brad caught Ian’s knee, lifting it so he could press damp kisses up Ian’s calf.
“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” Ian panted, curling his other leg up against his belly to show Brad his hole.
Brad growled, obliging him with a look. Ian’s hole prickled under his attention; he reached down, spreading his cheeks.
“Fuck, Ian.” Brad panted, his eyes glued to Ian’s entrance.
“No one’s been here in three weeks,” Ian breathed, relaxing his hole. “It needs claiming.”
Brad groaned, his cock jerking. He leaned in, pressing a sucking kiss to Ian’s calf. Then, one on Ian’s inner thigh, and one further up, closer to Ian’s straining cock.
Ian writhed, spreading his legs. “Brad, please.”
“I told you I was gonna fuck you properly.” Brad caught Ian’s other knee and pinned it open against the mattress, keeping Ian spread, exposed.
“That means now, doesn’t it?”
“Nope.”
Ian whined, reaching for his own cock.
Brad caught his wrist, pulling Ian’s hand away. “I decide when you come.”
He dragged his wrist down Ian’s cock, marking it with walnut. Ian groaned, needing more.
“I want to come,” he growled.
“Nope.” Brad grinned and shuffled closer, pressing their cocks together. Then he braced his hands on either side of Ian’s head and leaned in, kissing Ian on the lips. Ian moaned; Brad licked into his mouth, tasting him thoroughly.
Just when Ian was about to shove his hips at Brad, Brad rolled his hips, trapping Ian’s cock against his belly. Its tip left a wet smear on Ian’s skin; Ian ran his hands down Brad’s arms, pushing his feet beneath himself to gain leverage. He rocked up against Brad, and their cocks slid together, sometimes missing, sometimes grinding sweetly against each other.
Brad reached between them, closing his fist around
