17. Brett

Chapter 17

Brett

The gentle click of the front door closing felt louder today, somehow. I winced, my senses always heightened after another overnight shift at the hospital. The yuck of antiseptic still clung to me, and my unicorn was not having it. My muscles ached for the comfort of my mate and our bed. Waking him up by being loud was the last thing I wanted to do.

I toed off my shoes and padded across the floor, careful not to step too loudly, or worse, accidentally kick a piece of furniture and cry out in pain. I shed my scrubs and plopped them straight into the washer. I'd turn it on later, the wash cycle far too noisy.

The need for silence battled against my need to shower. Had I still been single, I'd probably have climbed into bed and dealt with having to wash all the bedding and myself when I woke up. But I wasn't, and my mate deserved better.

I turned the shower knob, waiting for it to run hot before stepping into the spray. The steam embraced me, the water cascading over my skin, as I washed away any remnants of work

My beast yearned for Anders. We hadn't been together long, but he had become my entire world. I couldn't imagine coming home to anyone else. The thought of slipping into bed, curling up beside him, and feeling his steady breath against my neck had me picking up speed.

I lathered soap on my cloth and rubbed the soft soapy fabric all over my skin. A quiet click and a faint gust of cool air announced my mate's presence before his arms encircled my waist.

"Anders." Now I was home.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep, breath warm against the nape of my neck.

"Thought you'd be asleep," I replied, leaning back into his solid frame.

"Missed you too much," he confessed, his lips tracing the curve of my shoulder.

We moved in harmony beneath the cascade of water, hands gliding over wet and slightly soapy skin. I reached for the soap, working up a lather in my palms before smoothing it over his chest. I didn't want a washcloth between us. My fingers traced the lines of his muscles, down the valley between them. There was something so sexy about the way his breath hitched when I circled his nipples.

Anders reciprocated, his touch tender yet assured. He explored every inch of me, as if committing each contour to memory. When his soapy hands wrapped around my erection, I stifled a moan, the sensation intimate but not pushing toward release. I loved that he could read me, anticipate my needs like this.

"Perfect," he whispered against my ear.

I leaned back, wanting to take in his form. Our eyes locked, and his lips curled into a mischievous smile. We were only just beginning.

As the shower washed away the suds, we rinsed each other's bodies, Anders' gaze never leaving mine. It was an act so ordinary yet laden with unspoken promises that left my chest tight with love for this alpha, my mate.

We stepped out onto the bath mat, and Anders reached for a towel and patted my skin dry. When I was no longer dripping, Anders knelt before me, his breath ghosting over my still-hard length.

"Let me take care of you," he said, and there was no command in his tone—only devotion.

His mouth enveloped me then, heat and wetness contrasting with the cool air of the room. I threaded my fingers through his damp hair, anchoring myself as he took me in, slow and unhurried. His tongue swirled, teasing, his eyes peering up at me through thick lashes. A deep groan rumbled in my throat, but I resisted the urge to thrust deeper, to seek release.

"Stop," I managed to gasp, more plea than demand. "Not yet."

Anders complied immediately, releasing me with a soft pop, a smirk playing on his lips. "As you wish."

"Bed," I breathed, the single word heavy with need and affection. "I need more… everything."

"Your wish is my command," he answered, his voice laced with laughter and something richer, something that said without words: I am yours, as you are mine.

He quickly toweled off. I felt weightless as Anders scooped me up into his arms with such strength and assurance.

"Bed," I whispered again, my body squirming against his.

We reached the bed, and he set me down gently upon the soft sheets, his touch lingering as he joined me, his body a welcome weight atop mine.

Our lips met, a kiss that spoke of all the unsaid words between us, the life we'd built together. It was tender and familiar, yet every time felt like discovering something new, something thrilling. His hands roamed over my body, mapping the contours as though committing each detail to memory.

"Please," I murmured against his mouth, my breath hitching as one hand slipped lower, teasing over my sensitive skin. The flutter of anticipation twisted inside me, a sweet ache that only Anders could soothe.

His fingers traced circles around my slick entrance. I bucked my hips toward him, silently begging for more.

"Is this what you want?" Anders asked, his voice husky with his own need.

"More," I gasped, unable to form more coherent thought. "You."

Anders obliged, slipping a finger inside me, and my body clenched around the welcomed intrusion, and he slowly began to pump in and out of me, a preview of what was to come. A second finger joined the first, stretching me, preparing me for his girth. Our mouths never parted, the sounds of our kisses mingling with my moans.

"Please, Anders," I pleaded, feeling the build-up of something intense and overwhelming. "I need you inside of me."

Anders hovered over me, and his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent my heart racing and my unicorn so close to the surface I could scent him.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, the words barely audible above the sound of our synchronized breathing. He recognized what was happening before I did. My beast was finally ready to mark our mate. About time.

"More than anything," I replied, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.

Anders nodded, his gaze never leaving mine as he aligned himself with my slick entrance. The moment he entered me, a sigh escaped my lips, a feeling of completeness filling my being.

We moved together, like we had done many times before, yet it felt new, better, important.

"I'm so lucky to have you, omega mine," Anders murmured, each word punctuated by a gentle push that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"No. I'm the lucky one, alpha mine," I responded, my arms wrapping around his neck, drawing him closer.

Our rhythm sped up, our bodies knowing, anticipating each other's needs. As my orgasm barreled toward me, my unicorn nature rose to the surface, pushing to take over. He was ready.

As we approached completion together, I gazed into Anders' eyes, seeing my future, our future, reflected back at me. And then, as we came, my mouth found his shoulder, teeth grazing the skin until they found purchase. It wasn't pain—it was a claim, a brand of belonging. A surge of energy passed between us as Anders reciprocated, his own teeth marking me even as his knot swelled, locking us together in the most intimate of connections.

We lay there, still joined, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His fingers stroked my hair gently, a soothing rhythm that matched our breaths. I had never felt so complete, so utterly content. We were mates in every sense of the word, and as I drifted on the edge of sleep, I couldn't help but feel that this was exactly where I was meant to be—in Anders' arms, connected by more than just the physical—connected by love, friendship, and some unicorn magic.