by N. J. Lysk
The word was enough to make Keenan tremble, but he was right. Of course he was, the twerp always had to be right. In response, he tipped him onto his back, keeping his leg bent with his own chest, and met his eyes again. “Like this?”
Carry grinned up at him. “Yes, please.”
Keenan caressed his inner walls slowly, then pressed deeper until he found his prostate, drawing a cry out of Carry’s throat as his body contracted in reaction. Only then did he take his hand away and take hold of his own cock, preparing it with Carry’s own... He gripped himself hard at the base, stalling, and only opened his eyes again when he felt Carry’s heels on his lower back, a silent demand. He glanced up to see his lover was on his elbows, knees around Keenan and body bent over—his cock hard enough not to quite rest on his belly—and lower still, his hole exposed and visibly wet.
It was too much, and not enough. He shuffled forward the last few millimetres between them and pressed the head of his dick against Carry’s entrance—drinking in the sight and the sigh that brought from Carry’s lips. The head popped in easily despite the rather perfunctory preparation and then Carry decided he’d had enough and used his well-earned core muscles to drag him forward.
As his cock got buried inside his lover’s warmth, Keenan lost his balance, but Carry’s hands were on his shoulders, holding him up, then pulling him closer still until he was fully seated, hips locking together as they both fell into the rhythm they already knew so well.
Carry arched under him, pulling him deeper into his body, demanding everything Keenan had to give just like he always did. Keenan gave it to him, relishing the challenge as his strength was put to the test, resisting the pull of his own pleasure to drill Carry’s prostate over and over.
“Keenan!” The word sounded like it had been torn from him by a force even his willpower couldn't withstand. He lost control of his body a moment later, clenching around Keenan’s cock—wet and vicious—and throwing his head back as he screamed, too gone for words. The long column of his throat was the very picture of temptation, shiny with sweat and exposed. Keenan couldn't look away and for a beat, then two. He was afraid of himself, of— Carry opened his eyes and looked straight at him and all the air seemed to leave his lungs at once.
He fell forward, still buried in Carry’s body and his lover’s arms came back to hold him up. “Keenan,” he whispered, soft and tender where he’d been desperate before. He tensed his legs, kissed his cheek. “It's okay,” he reassured him, and Keenan pressed his face to his shoulder like a supplicant might have kissed their lord’s feet.
“I thought...”
Carry shushed him. “You didn't. You won’t.” He lifted Keenan's face, making them both shiver as it shifted their bodies where they were still joined. “You think I don't think about it? About how it would feel to have your knot inside me?”
Keenan shuddered, hips thrusting before he could still them.
And Carry hissed. “Yes, yeah, like that. I can—” He stuttered as Keenan tentatively allowed himself to push again. “It’s... So good,” Carry mumbled, sounding drunk. “Having you in me, finally. I—”
Keenan pulled out and pushed back inside, fast and smooth through Carry’s slick and his own pre-come. He didn't quite understand Carry’s confidence, but he found he believed it. Maybe it was the habit they’d formed on the ice, maybe it was just that if Carry believed in him... He raised himself to his knees, creating enough space between their bodies he could get his hands under Carry's buttocks to lift him up into his next thrust. Carry’s keening moan made him quicken his rhythm like his body could interpret his omega’s need without word or gesture.
The nails digging into his arms confirmed what his body already knew and he rutted forward, panting out his own need against Carry’s lips, but moving too fast to manage the coordination necessary for a kiss. Then Carry’s legs around him tightened once more and that was more than Keenan could bear, he pressed his cock as deep as it would go and crashed, curling forward and holding onto Carry like he was the only fixed point in the universe as every nerve in his body erupted at once with pleasure too intense for his mind to process.
He was still shaking when he came back, and Carry was still holding him.
He was also still deep inside Carry’s arse, the squeeze of it almost too much on his sensitive cock. He still could not quite make himself pull out. Not until Carry’s fingers in his hair tugged a little to get his attention. “Come on.”
Like most alphas, he produced a lot of come and it inevitably made a squelching sound as he pulled out of Carry’s body. He glanced down, entranced by the idea of leaving something behind in his lover. Some mark, even if not... And his eyes were caught on the sight of Carry’s erection curving against his own belly where Keenan had him bent in half.
He swallowed, mind still reeling, body growing heavy.
“You...” Carry started to say, but cut himself off when Keenan raised his eyes to his face. His face was flushed and there was come on his chest from earlier, and his eyes were dark, but also... He lowered his gaze, dark lashes fanning against his cheeks—the very picture of omega submission.
“Carry,” Keenan said at once. He didn’t want anything like that from Carry, and he couldn’t think of any good reason for him to look like that now. “What do you want?”
Carry’s head snapped up. He stared at Keenan, throat working hard, then his lips parted and he seemed about to speak... and he didn’t.
“Hey.” Keenan put down his legs and rubbed his outer thighs, travelling upwards slowly enough to tease. “You... I liked that, a lot,” he offered. “Was it...?”
“Yes,” Carry said, almost dismissive. He was too tense under Keenan’s hands. “Of course,” he added, a little softer, intentionally so, Keenan could tell. “It was... It was fucking amazing. I mean...” He pointed downwards with his chin.
Keenan swallowed, the words were sincere but there was still something off. He kept his hands where they were, a gentling touch and let his eyes wander instead. “Did you... you came, right? I mean, I felt—”
“Yes,” Carry cut him off. “Yes, I...” He was breathing heavily. “I finished,” he settled on at last.
Keenan paused, Carry’s scent was still sweet, thick with arousal, but now that he was starting to be able to think clearly again, he noticed the choice of word. “You finished...” He reached out and touch the sticky mess on Carry’s belly, rubbing it between his fingertips. “Oh. But you didn’t come...”
Carry flinched a little, and Keenan regretted his boldness at once. He hastily cleaned his hand on the bunched-up covers so he could take hold of Carry’s fingers. Carry didn’t pull away, but it wasn’t enough, if he’d somehow fucked up already... “Sorry, I... I should have asked. It’s not—”
Carry sighed and opened his eyes, gaze flickering towards his face, cutting him off more effectively with a look than he could have taping his mouth shut. Then he raised his free hand and tugged Keenan down by the shoulder, drawing his body down into the space between his own spread legs. It inevitably brought his cock against Keenan’s belly and he sighed right against his throat. “Shh... It’s not nice to brag.”
“Oh.” Keenan exhaled, body relaxing like Carry had found the exact right muscle to press. He let his head hang a little, inhaling his lover’s sweetness like it was as vital to his survival as oxygen itself. “Okay, so now I could...” He let his fingers edge closer to Carry’s groin, earning himself a shudder. Carry still didn’t tell him what to do, and Keenan, on an impulse he couldn’t explain, said, “Or I could use my mouth. I could... I want to taste you.”
The body under his hands jerked in place and a whimpered plea followed. The caramel was turning more intense and it had a hint of citrus now. Desperation, Keenan thought, feeling Carry rub his erection against his belly. Even though he knew he’d be too sensitive, his twitching cock wanted to get back in the game as well.
But it didn’t matter how many nutritional meals he had, outside of h
eat, he wouldn’t be able to get hard for a third time.
It was almost better this way, a chance to truly focus on Carry’s pleasure. He grinned and took Carry by the wrists, tugging to request his freedom, and then he could crawl down his body, trembling and sweaty and hot, all for him.
It was not until he exhaled right on top of Carry’s erection and watched his cock twitch, wet already but growing wetter, that it occurred to him that he had no idea what he was doing, or whether he... But he didn’t need another reminder, maybe he’d never sucked cock, but oral sex was oral sex, and he knew what he himself liked. He bent forward and placed a kiss on the head—wet and hot, and when he licked his lips a little salty. Not that different from a woman, although he knew the difficulty of a blowjob lay in one’s ability to accommodate the size of a dick in one’s mouth instead of one’s ability to stimulate the clitoris and labia.
“K— Keenan,” Carry said, voice thready. “Use your hand.”
Keenan glanced up, frowning a little, then he understood it was advice, not an out. He took hold of the base of Carry’s erection, just like his partners had done with him when they’d offered this particular favour. Even the sight was already more manageable, a portion of Carry’s cock was still exposed, but nowhere near as much as was engulfed in Keenan’s hand. This time, he braved sucking on the head a little and almost punched himself in the face when Carry thrust his hips upwards into it.
“Sorry,” came the breathless apology from above, but Keenan simply put his free hand on Carry’s hip and dived in again, pressing the flat of his tongue to the bottom of Carry’s cock before he started sucking in earnest.
His lover screamed at the sensation, body tensing against Keenan’s hold, and he almost stopped to ask if he was okay before he felt fingers clutching at his hair to keep him in place. It was completely antithetical to an omega’s submission, and it turned him on so much he could hardly concentrate enough to keep going without choking. He was making a right mess, drooling too much and not coordinating his movements nearly enough, and then suddenly Carry’s hand in his hair were directing him away and then closer again and all Keenan had to do was suck him, rub his tongue against the vein underneath when he could manage it, and just let Carry use his mouth as he pleased—take anything he wanted because anything he wanted from Keenan was already his.
He got lost in the rhythm of it, strange and so very close to all sex—a give and take that felt as true as sunset and sunrise, the true dance of the world as exemplified in their bodies. He could tell Carry was close again by the increased speed but also by the way he was having to swallow more often to keep his precome from spilling.
It still didn’t help him much when Carry’s hips slipped his grip and he arched, choking him a little and shouting his name as his dick erupted in Keenan’s mouth. He pulled away, but he had a mouthful already and he let it spill out and down his chin. He swallowed, the sticky salty taste filling his mouth was more intense than the precome had been and it... It started tasting sweet so suddenly Keenan startled and it was only then that he became aware that Carry had dropped his shields—the whole room smelled like sugar, just at the point of caramelization with maybe... Apples, his brain suddenly realised. Candied apples. He’d been thinking of Carry’s scent as sweet from the beginning and later he’d narrowed it down to caramel. But that wasn’t it; it was candied apples. His favourite treat to get at the fair when he’d been a boy.
The realisation distracted him long enough for his partner to sit up and then, to Keenan’s utter shock, Carry burst out laughing.
He watched him, as entranced by his happiness—still projecting loud and clear all over the room—as he was confused by its cause. “What?” he demanded, not all that concerned.
Carry was covering his mouth to muffle the sound of his mirth and he snorted in answer, shaking his head, then lifted a hand and signed [Face].
Keenan lifted a hand to touch his chin and it came into contact with the sticky remains of Carry’s pleasure. Glancing down, he discovered it had got on his chest hair, too. Even as he tried to use the sheets to clean his neck, he realised it was a lost cause. He raised his eyes and met Carry’s, still bright with suppressed laughter. “You could clean me up, you know,” he proposed.
Carry’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “It’s all... dry,” he said, then glanced down at his own body. He didn’t seem to notice his nakedness, which Keenan was having a hard time ignoring, and added, “And I need a shower anyway.”
Keenan didn’t ask him why they would need to shower together; he might have been new at dating a guy, but he wasn’t slow. “Guess we do,” he allowed. His mouth hurt a little, but he was pretty sure it was from how hard he was smiling.
Chapter 69: Cartwright
He’d woken up in Keenan’s arms before, but this time, there was no disorientation or alarm. He remembered how he’d come to be there. He’d chosen to. Keenan’s skin was close enough to his nose—the scent of the ocean and sand so intense he could have been back there—and when Carry gave in and rubbed at the soft skin of his lower back, he pressed closer, seeking his touch.
Carry stopped moving, watching his eyelashes flutter like he could somehow see into his dreams.
Maybe bonded couples could.
He traced Keenan’s brow with his index finger, so overcome with tenderness he didn’t think he could have borne it if Keenan had been awake to look at him. Not like this, both naked and with their shields down, every flicker of emotion revealed through scent... Keenan groaned, twisting in his arms, and Carry realised he could probably catch Carry’s worry as well.
He’d slammed his shields down around his mind before the thought had fully formed. And Keenan tensed at once, and woke with a shudder, lifting his head and blinking fast. “What...?” he mumbled, still mostly asleep.
Carry tightened his grip on his arm to keep him from pulling away, then apologized, “Sorry!”
But it was too late for Keenan to go back to sleep and when he started to push himself into a sitting position, Carry was forced to let go of the bulging muscles of his upper arm. His lover rubbed at his face, groaning like sleep was a weight he could hardly dislodge. “You—” He swallowed, then licked his lips. “Nightmare?” he asked, dubiously. His hair was standing up in places, probably where Carry had—
Carry shook his head, then shrugged. “Freaked out,” he admitted, pulling the blankets higher up his body more for something to do than because he was cold. He was grateful that Keenan’s own lap had remained covered through his violent awakening, he felt naked enough with both of them under the blankets.
“What about?” he asked Carry, and Carry felt him dial his shields up a little. It was only fair, but it made him tense up, it felt— It felt like something was being taken away.
It could not have felt great to Keenan either, especially since Carry had closed up so abruptly and completely. He gulped, then exhaled and turned his mental dial right a little. Level 2, barely enough for Keenan to be able to feel him and Keenan, way more open, still projected his relief through the bond.
“My shields were down,” he explained. “I just... I don’t...”
“You don’t need to explain that,” Keenan said, shifting until he could sit with his back to the headboard. Carry missed the warmth of his skin against his side. “I had to ask you to teach me how to control my scent, remember?”
It was true, of course, but not the whole truth. “But that was only because I wouldn’t...” he trailed off.
“Yeah,” Keenan admitted. “But only because I didn’t realise how much I was giving away before.”
“Most alphas and omegas do it,” Carry pointed out, not really sure what point he was trying to make.
Keenan’s laughter made him turn to look at him. When he did, he gave Carry a toothy grin. “I’m pretty sure we can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that we’re not like most alphas and omegas.”
Carry rolled his eyes at him, but he couldn’t quite keep his mouth from respo
nding; it seemed inevitable that if Keenan pulled, Carry would be dragged along. He concentrated and opened up a little further, still watching Keenan’s face, so he got to see his eyes light up with...
“Is it going to freak you out if I tell you?” Keenan asked very quietly. He was leaning closer now, close enough for Carry to feel the heat of him, and he had opened up fully again and Carry hadn’t even noticed.
It felt like they were holding a spider web between them, glistening with dew and impossibly beautiful in the morning light but likely to be torn apart if they moved even a single muscle wrong.
He swallowed, trembling a little, aching to... to touch, to speak. He was only halfway open himself and he didn’t think he could go any further. “I don’t know,” he told Keenan, offering a thread and hoping...
Keenan nodded. “You can go hide in the toilet,” he offered with a little shrug. His eyes were bright, the words he was asking to say as clear there as if he had already spoken them. He had already spoken them. More than, Carry had proof of his devotion on every inch of his skin, regardless of the shower they’d shared fairly chastely.
Carry snorted, aware of how ridiculous all this was, then looked away and braced himself. “Okay.”
He didn’t notice Keenan’s hand until his fingers tangled loosely with his own on top of the bedding. When he looked back at Keenan’s face, the alpha’s eyes were lowered. It was the only warning he had before the words came, rough and true, echoing through the bond like bells in a tower. “I love you.”
He tensed and Keenan’s fingers tightened around his own—a hold as easily broken as could be, but a hold nonetheless.
Carry didn’t roll off the bed. For a moment, he didn’t move at all, then he reached with his free hand and yanked at Keenan’s arm hard enough to get his whole body rolling towards him.
Keenan gasped, letting go of his hand to break his fall into Carry’s body. There were still blankets tangled between them but with his weight on top of him, Carry could relax enough to close his eyes and hug him close. His nose was pressed to the delicate skin of Keenan’s neck, the same place where the mating mark would have gone.