15. Tristan

Tristan

Chapter 15

I was having the best dream. I was buried to the hilt in Dylan's tight, slick hole. In typical dream fashion, we flitted between positions without needing to move. First, I had him on his stomach, pinned down, moaning into the mattress, then I had him on his back, legs up over my shoulders, his erection bouncing with each thrust. Oh gods, he made the most incredible sounds, begging for more.

Little by little, though, I began to emerge from the dream, no matter how hard I tried to cling to it. Something had woken me up. It was still dark outside, and I was still half asleep, but an insistent tugging on my cock had me opening my eyes with a moan.

"Fuck, baby. What are you up to down there?" I looked down my body to where Dylan was kneeling between my legs, his fist clamped tightly around my shaft in a chokehold, jacking me off. The blankets were all shoved down at the foot of the bed in a tangled pile, as if Dylan had been thrashing in his sleep.

"I need you, alpha," he whined, sheathing me straight into his velvety mouth. His whimpers and moans continued around my dick, and between the sexy dreams and his talented tongue, the vibrations were inching me uncomfortably close to an early release.

I indulged in the pleasure for a full minute before I tried to tug Dylan off. "Come up here, kitten, and let me take care of you."

He swatted me away, though. Like, legit slapped my hands before doubling down on the suction, his hungry growl choked off by my cock hitting the back of his throat. My eyes may have literally rolled to the back of my skull. What had gotten into my mate? He was always kind of bossy in bed, but this was next level. He was kneading at my thighs with his hot little hands and… Huh.

His hands really were hot. Like, fever hot. And the perfume of his pheromones was starting to make my head spin.

It took herculean effort to focus long enough to feel his forehead, under the pretense of pressing his head down onto me so he didn't get the impression I was trying to make him stop. "Dylan, I think you're in heat."

He moaned, in what might have been an agreement of my assessment or just a translation of "fuck my face, daddy," it was hard to say for sure. But when he started grinding his hips into the mattress, I decided it was time to take control of the situation. If this was heat, there was only one thing that would help get him through it—my knot—and I refused to waste a perfectly good load of semen in his mouth.

"Dylan, why don't you—hey, how about—" Every time I reached down for him earned me another swipe of his claws, a deep growl building in the back of his throat. It was like trying to take a T-bone steak away from a very possessive, very hungry cat. I stopped trying to take my dick back when I felt the scrape of his teeth. Shit, I was kinda partial to having my cock attached to my body, thanks very much. Time to change tactics.

"Are you horny, baby?" I asked in a soothing voice. "I bet your ass is feeling pretty empty right now, your slick probably running down your thighs?" He was listening; he'd paused his blowjob on the downstroke, but I could still feel his rough tongue working at the vein along the underside. "Would you like me to fill your hole for you, my sweet boy? I can make the ache go away for you."

He looked up at me through those thick lashes of his, his eyes a startling green-and-gold color. He was not fully in control of himself, but I must've offered his panther something he liked, because he reluctantly relinquished his prize, giving my length one final lick, before prowling up my body.

"I need." It was a statement, no elaboration required.

We hadn't had the chance to talk about kids yet. We'd been mated for all of like two minutes, and so far, we'd been kind of busy with all the other big life changes. Our future was this giant, hazy cloud of what-ifs and maybes. And even though a week ago I hadn't been anywhere near ready to settle down, now I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than a whole litter of pups (or cubs) with my mate. It seemed unfair to force a family on him if he wasn't ready, and he was currently in no state of having a conversation about it.

Try telling him that, though.

"Mine," he purred, splaying across my chest. He grabbed a fistful of my hair tight enough to sting and tugged my head back so he could run his tongue the full length of my neck, from clavicle to earlobe. I couldn't decide if he wanted to eat me or fuck me, but either way, I was here for it.

"Yes, I'm all yours," I agreed with a groan. It was getting harder to think straight, his hormones dragging me down with him into a mindless pit of need. "But I really don't want you to regret anything."

He moved his hand from my hair down under my jaw, and I could feel his claws pricking my skin. He proceeded to bite my chin, his erection throbbing, hot and hard against my stomach. "Are you telling me no?" he asked, a note of warning in his voice.

I chuckled, torn being letting him dominate me and fighting him for control; both options had their perks. "I would never say no to you, kitten. I just want to make sure you know what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I want," he said simply, "and you're going to give it to me." I nodded the best I could with his hand still clamped on my jaw. With his free hand, he reached back and grabbed my dick, angling it up so he could lower himself onto it. We groaned in tandem.

He tipped his head back as he gave his hips a long, slow grind. His skin glistened with sweat, damp hair falling across his forehead, and when he looked down at me, his eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide. "I'm going to ride you hard, alpha. Do you have a problem with that?"

If I had any sense of self-preservation, I probably would've been scared by the predatory gleam in his eyes. Instead, I grinned right back. "I dare you to do your worst."

He seemed to take that as a challenge. He lifted himself off me until only the crown of my cock remained inside him. He remained suspended there, teasing me, until I began to second-guess my life choices. I was painfully hard, my balls aching for release, and still he waited, staring down at me with a tiny frown forming.

"Tristan?" he asked, blinking rapidly. "Kids. Do you want them?"

Maybe he was still himself in there somewhere. "Yes," I said fervently.

His expression cleared, and he gave me one last smile. "Good." Then he let himself go and slammed straight down in my lap, his channel doing its best to suck me straight up inside him. And he didn't stop.

I tried to raise my hips to meet him, but he hooked his feet over my thighs, keeping me in place. When I tried to sit up, he squeezed my throat enough to cut back on my oxygen, which only made every sensation more intense. The most he allowed me was to grab his hips. I could've fought him if I wanted. I was bigger and stronger than he was, but where was the fun in that? To be totally owned by him was hotter than I ever could've imagined.

The view of him riding me would forever live in my dreams, the way his face was shaded with raw bliss, skin flushed and glowing. From this angle, I could see his balls drawing up, and my mouth flooded with saliva. My fingers itched to touch, and I decided it was worth risking his wrath. I slowly moved one hand to wrap around his bobbing cock.

He must've been close, because that first brush of my fingers was all it took to set him off like a bottle rocket. He let out a choked cry, and his cum unraveled from the tip in thick, creamy ropes, the liquid almost hot enough to sear my chest and stomach, branding me as his.

He didn't stop, though. He was still rock hard in my fist. Even as his muscles clamped down around me in a vise-like grip, he just kept bouncing up and down like I was some kind of inflatable castle. "Shit, Dylan, you're killing me," I gritted out, pumping his cock in time with his bounces. "I want you to come again, baby. All over me, make a mess of me."

"Yes, yes, yes," he chanted.

I could feel the fluttering of his internal muscles spelling out his impending climax. I picked up the pace, jerking him off hard enough that my muscles were starting to cramp, but I was so damn close, and I wanted him to come with me. Gods, I needed it like I needed oxygen.

The pressure began to ramp up, heat building low in my gut. My breathing was a rapid wheeze, spots forming in the edges of my vision.

"Give it to me, I want it," he gritted out through clenched teeth. He barely sounded like a man anymore, with animalistic desperation driving him, fueling his every desire. "Fill me with your seed, with your knot. I need it!"

I couldn't have held off any longer if I'd tried. Regardless of how he had me pinned, my hips rose off the bed, lifting him straight off the mattress as I buried my cock as deep as I could. "Fuck!" My knot swelled, and as it pressed against his prostate, it milked a second orgasm from him.

He let out a howl, covering my hand and my stomach in his cum, painting a stripe of cream all the way up to my shoulder. He sagged in relief, temporarily sated.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it," I said, smearing my fingers through the warm, salty goodness like some kind of new-age art technique, before bringing them to my lips to suck clean.

Dylan watched me for a moment, then whimpered, his eyes filling with tears and his entire body shaking with exhaustion as he came down from the high. His hormones were going haywire. I quickly sat up and wrapped my arms around him, bending my knees so he could lean back against my thighs. "Hey, you're okay. I've got you."

He dropped his head forward onto my shoulder, sobbing raggedly. "Why did you stay?" he wailed, clinging to me. "You could've had anyone, but you chose to fight for me instead. And now you're stuck with me, this disappointing omega who can't do anything right."

I was having a hard time switching gears with him. "What are you talking about? You are fierce and independent, and I know you can do anything you set your mind to. I stayed because you're mine, and I love you. I fought for you because I wouldn't have been able to go on without you. I'm not stuck with you—I chose you."

He sniffled once before leaning back and looking down at me. "But I'm a useless, pampered city omega who can't cook or garden or build anything. Just look at these hands!" he blurted, shoving his hands palm up into the space between us. "Look how soft they are! Not a single callus because I've never had to work a single day in my life. I don't belong here!"

I could see a fresh wave of tears building. I had zero experience with this kind of thing, but my wolf didn't like seeing him cry either. Fix it! he urged, beginning to panic. I didn't know if they were the right words to make him feel better, but I said, "If you want, I could teach you."

He paused, peeking up at me. "Teach me what?" he asked eventually.

"Anything you want. We could… make some scrambled eggs for breakfast, maybe help weed the garden." I smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead gently. My knot had begun to soften, and it slipped from his ass with a surge of my cum.

He nodded, wiping his tears away. "I think I'd like that." He took a shuddering breath. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he hiccupped. "One second I'm the happiest I've ever been, the next I feel like I can't possibly be good enough for you."

I kissed the tip of his nose. "If anything, you're too good for me." My mate and I had grown up in very different worlds. Our life experiences did not overlap in any way, but how much did that matter? As long as we were determined to meet each other in the middle.

Dylan gave me a shaky, embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to spoil the mood."

"It's not spoiled," I promised him. And to prove my point, I poked him with my hard-on that was already perking up for round two. His pheromones were still permeating the air, his skin still overly warm.

"Good," he replied, arching his hips. "Because I think I need… more," he whispered, chagrined, like it was some kind of naughty secret.

It was going to be a long night.