Milo caught him by the hair and dragged his mouth around for a ravishing kiss. One he surrendered to willingly. The noise Milo gave sang to his m’weko. Acceptance, love, and longing. A sigh of need and desire mirroring his. He groaned, running a hand around Milo’s waist. Hands sweeping, caressing.
“Please,” Milo whispered, breath ghosting against his cheek.
With one word, Keon felt Milo’s happiness flowing through his veins. Light, happy, accepting. He teased his skin with whispers, kisses, and touches, the drag of lips, the trail of fingertips, the breath from his lungs. When he’d explored his fill, he laid Milo against the pillows and stood from the bed to strip. Never dropping his gaze, Milo lifted his hips to shimmy from his joggers, kicking them off the end of the bed.
Naked, Keon slid onto the mattress and lay beside Milo, trading kisses and exploratory touches for the next hour. Mapping every inch of skin, every reaction to touch. Noting the damaged nerves of his calf, where he barely registered contact. The sensitive cut of his abdomen, filling out after years of malnutrition. The way his eyes fluttered when Keon scratched nails across the V-cut of his hips or the nape of his neck.
Everything was important. Everything filed in his memory bank.
For every touch and kiss he gave, Milo returned it. Delicate fingers trailing Keon’s chest, tugging the light hairs as they kissed. Drawing his right foot over Keon’s calf, Milo whined and clutched at his waist with biting fingers. Possessive and demanding, tugging his hips closer. “Need you,” he panted, hands drifting to grasp at his ass and squeeze invitingly.
He muffled a huff against Milo’s throat and resisted the urge to thrust. It wasn’t frotting he craved, but a deeper connection. “Need you too,” he answered honestly, taking another long kiss from responsive lips. Keon’s heart beat like a hammer, his breath stuttered in the heat of the room. He caressed Milo’s chest, straddled his hips, and took that long, thick cock in hand.
Milo tilted his head, checking the bedside table for the supplies Keon had moved in this morning. Visiting long enough to make his plans possible, if Milo agreed. When Milo handed him the bottle of oil, he squeezed a half-dozen drops into his hand and dribbled twice as much onto Milo’s cock. The glide of a hand across bare skin, slick and slow, teasing and encouraging, was torture.
Milo caught his mouth in a long, slow kiss, matching the strokes of his tongue to Keon’s hand. Neither the jolt of the bottle slipping from his hand nor slick fingers against his hip startled him. Slow and careful, Milo teased him with the tip of his finger, grazing Keon’s hole as he stroked Milo’s cock. One grazing touch became another, breathy sighs leading into another kiss, growing desperate, demanding, greedy. The ghostly touch of a finger against his hole was devastatingly good, but such a tease he didn’t think he’d make it. Until the fleeting touch became a fingertip, then a long, searching finger, guiding more into him as Keon broke their kiss.
“I want to mate with you,” he confessed, though tradition meant they should have their ceremony first. Doing it in the wrong order wouldn’t make it less meaningful, less acceptable, though.
Milo panted a whispered, “Yes,” and devoured Keon’s mouth. An expert at knowing exactly what he wanted and when.
Minutes flew away, one touch drifting into another, one breath drifting into a groan or a shift into delectable contact. Lips became tongues, mouths led to fingers, a constant exchange of energy, emotion, existence. Maybe it was Vihaan and the bond, or how it should always be, but the longer it lasted, the more it became a spiritual experience. More than one body dominating another. Two souls converging. Two hearts melting into one. Two minds possessed by the same needs and desires.
Keon moaned as a lone finger slid home and crooked inside. Preparing had been exciting, but he hadn’t realised how much better it was at Milo’s mercy. Pushing hands into Milo’s chest, he scrambled to sit and press against the moving finger. Every time it hit a nub he’d never known existed, it was like a lightning storm behind his closed lids. Over and over, rolling against Milo’s finger to flood his body with the sensation.
Fuck, he could gladly have stayed for hours, watching lust cloud Milo’s green eyes, feeling his breath fogging the space between them, losing his mind to the sensations of a lone finger. What would two feel like? Three? Milo’s cock?
Panting, he rolled his hips and closed his eyes, head dropping low. A gasp punched from his lungs when Milo slid a second finger inside. He thrust deeper and Keon groaned, eyes rolling at an unexpected jolt of unbridled pleasure. “Fuck.” He let his hands slide over Milo’s shoulders to grip at his hair, and dropped his chest to Milo’s to claim his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. Keon bit his bottom lip as a third finger eased inside, dropping his right hand to curl around Milo’s cock. “Don’t stop,” he whispered into the next kiss.
Sliding an arm under Milo’s head, he rocked onto Milo’s fingers. They looked slim, delicate in his big hand, but felt thick inside him. Stroking Milo’s cock, Keon could barely breathe, think, register anything but the slide of two sweaty bodies and the touches that left him shaking inside. The slip of tongue into his mouth as Milo wrung him inside out with three fingers. Keon stroked his thumb over the head of Milo’s cock, feeling the slick pre-come build, never thinking about what it represented. Not until his body ached with the attempt to rein in the rising tide of emotion. When it hurt like a vice around his balls and his cock dripped against Milo’s thigh, he pulled away.
“I need you,” he said, barely getting the words out through a dry throat. Sitting to straddle Milo’s waist, he added more oil and shifted into the most comfortable stance.
“You’re beautiful,” Milo whispered, running his hands along Keon’s thighs.
He marvelled at the unexpected praise. He’d never been the centre of anyone’s world, but believed it when Milo looked at him. Maybe because Milo was his, in return.
When Keon guided a slicked cock to his hole, he felt stupidly possessive. He wanted to be with Milo, in this bed, in this moment, forever. He never wanted to leave this bed to do anything else or to speak to anyone else. But that wasn’t reality, and that was okay, because this one afternoon meant they would be together forever. As Milo’s cock slid inside, he shuddered, surprised the involuntary movement pushed him deeper, and…the prep work paid off. Milo was inside him, deep and filling. Every inch felt twice as big as he’d looked.
Keon gritted his teeth against the stretch as Milo sank deeper. It stung in a weird way where the body was forced to stretch in new ways. Instead of hurting, it relieved an ache he hadn’t been aware of. His body thanked him for the painful relief. The sweet sacrifice. The breathtaking moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure shooting through his spine. The sensations promising permanent change.
Not the physical. Of course his body had changed. The internal, the spiritual sense of relief in knowing they’d come this far. He was with Milo, the man who made this feel right. Chosen, not given. A man who deserved him, who he deserved. A good, strong man Keon wanted to make happy. A man who felt right, like he fit in his life, in his heart.
“Fuck.” Keon cupped a hand around Milo’s neck, meeting dazed green eyes. “Kiss me.”
A strangled moan erupted from Milo’s open, breathless mouth, as he lifted on his elbow, holding Keon’s hip with his free hand, maintaining balance, caring and thoughtful enough not to risk hurting him. Rising to kiss his mouth, a rumble of pleasure escaped his lips, and Keon felt the last missing piece fall into place.
I love you,they said, in sync.
Milo gazed into his eyes and took another kiss.I accept you, Keon. As my Alpha, my mate, my lover,he said, fingers loosening the grip on his hip to drift into his hair.I’m glad you’re mine…forever.
Nothing was between them, nothing to hide Milo’s beauty and a hungry, seductive look.I love you, Keon replied breathlessly.I accept you, Milo.You are my mate. The only mate I want, and I’ll never leave you,he promised, caressing his cheek as they held eye contact.
One mate. One m’weko.One foame.One man to another. Promising more than love. More than a marriage. This was a lifetime. Forever. They would never part, after this.
This was what Keon had wanted, when he thought of returning to Vihaan. Why Dnara couldn’t offer what he needed. It offered ‘love’, a human concept that didn’t exist in Vihaan. An excuse, an explanation, for the bond joining two hearts and souls. The Fates didn’t always choose the right bonded mate, and sometimes they found a mate themselves, but here, when they said and promised forever, they meant it. Their lives would always be unpredictable, dangerous, but the mate bond was unbreakable by anything but death.
Milo rose into another kiss, whispering through the bond,I love you, Alpha. You are my true mate and I’ll never leave you.
