Milo was surprised but supposed that made sense of why Keon insisted Yosi’s and Gale’s parents hadn’t been invited to the celebration. Considering most exiles had left or been banished because they, or someone they loved, was gaoj, that would explain why the Toreto parents were unwelcome and disinterested in the party.
Which only proved how much work they had to do to make sure Keon’s laws spread to mend the rift between families. Milo prayed for a future where no child had to fear their parents’ reaction to being gaoj.
Touching fingers to Callum’s hand, where he nervously ran a finger over the rim of his cup, Milo smiled. “I’m proud you both had the courage to come forward to be mated, despite their attitude. I understand how frightening it can be to stand up to your parents, but some things are worth fighting for,” he said, hoping the support would soothe Callum’s concerns.
“Yes.” He nodded, gaze far away and thoughtful. “Keon said you wanted to open a community centre.”
Milo suppressed a smile, allowing the change of topic. “Yes. We need more activities for younger children, more groups to bring people together. I’m hoping to build a library,” he confessed, pleased Callum was an eager listener. He seemed excited by the prospect of doing more, which wasn’t a surprise considering his attempts to build a social network. He could see it would be a joy to work together, and would give him an added purpose that let Milo give back to a pack who had accepted him despite his name, regardless of his family, and without laying the sins of the father on the son.
He could never find the words to express his gratitude, but perhaps he could show them how much their acceptance meant to him in other ways.
*
Keon
AFTER THREE SONGS, two dances, and four hours of spending time with the pack, Keon took the bowl of chocolates from Milo’s hand to place onto the table and bent to whisper in his ear, “I want to take you to bed, mikha.”
A hitch of breath escaped as Milo tilted his head.
“Not m’nuni,” he clarified, an important distinction. “I won’t rush, but I want more than what we’ve had.” He dipped low to kiss him. A kiss reciprocated, the graze of fingers against his jaw encouraging more.
“Carry me home,” Milo whispered against his lips.
Keon was pleased he’d asked, despite his chair sitting nearby. “Happy to.” He kissed the tip of his nose. He placed his empty bottle onto the overturned beer barrel long abandoned, and bent to steal another kiss. When he caught Milo by the waist, he wrapped strong arms around Keon’s neck. As soon as he was off the chair, Keon placed an arm under his thighs and fulfilled his promise to carry him home.
The trip didn’t take long in the moonlight, most of the pack at the party and knowing better than to detain him. He passed Yosi and Callum, who headed home hand in hand, stealing occasional kisses. Gale lurked on the porch of his parents’ house, smoking. Keon let it wash away to be tackled tomorrow or never. To let people solve their own problems and deal with their issues without him for one night.
Tonight was for him and Milo. For love. For mates.
Crossing the threshold, he kicked the front door shut and let Milo break the distance to kiss him. Slow and steady. Enough to say he was eager to escape to bed, but not enough to make Keon’s steps falter.
They passed the maze of a hallway packed with side tables, framed pictures, and a stool for Milo to rest on. With the bedroom door shut behind them, he cupped Milo’s head and basked in a deep and hungry exchange that made Milo moan. As he took the last steps to the bed, he slipped off his boots and kicked them away.
The sudden awareness alight in Milo’s eyes, as Keon laid him on the bed, and how close they were was his undoing. He crawled over Milo’s body, giving as good as he got, enjoying the slow, exploratory kissing. The cinnamon of Milo’s lips and the eager response fed the desire pooling in his gut, urging him onward.
Keon slid to his knees and lifted off the shirt he’d worn for the celebrations. A flick of the button on his jeans, the drag of the zipper, and he was free to push them past his hips, over his ass, and to his knees. He tugged off the tight material and tossed them aside. Used to sleeping naked, Keon didn’t understand why this felt different. Why he hesitated to remove his boxers. Why he felt exposed and unworthy, despite the rising lust in Milo’s eyes.
All he knew was that look never changed after he removed his boxers and his cock was on display. Already hard, the head revealing a drop of pre-come. Without judgement, Milo sat to kiss his mouth, moaning delicately, fingernails scraping over his bared throat.
Keon sighed into the kiss and unbuttoned Milo’s shirt, tugging it from his shoulders. Pale skin revealed an inch at a time, light freckles across the collarbone to match the few sprouting across the bridge of his nose over recent weeks. Eyes darkened with desire, Milo kissed him slow, fingers trailing over his chest, tangling into the dark hair leading to his cock, teasing without delivering.
A shiver rewarded him when Keon dragged his mouth from tempting lips to suck at Milo’s neck, raising the blood to the surface to mirror the mark an inch higher, a symbol of this moment he never wanted to forget. Kissing his way up Milo’s neck, he lowered his hands to the jeans keeping Milo hidden, fumbling fingers against the button and zip. A nip to his jaw warmed his blood as Milo broke away and lay back, slow, controlled, eyes burning. Every move trusting. He never doubted Keon would catch him if he faltered or was unsteady.
Keon couldn’t resist the magnetic pull of Milo, covering pale flesh to latch his mouth to Milo’s collarbone. He needed to taste him, trailing his mouth to a bared nipple. Milo moaned as Keon gripped the waist of his jeans and tugged them, lifting his hips.
Undressing him was one of his favourite activities, but he’d never done it this way. Slow and tender, he’d helped Milo strip countless times when his hands shook or the nerves in his fingers misbehaved. This was a new level of intimacy they’d never explored. He got lost in the slide of soft skin against his palms, hypnotised by green eyes that never strayed, captured by the heat of a steady gaze.
Milo had always been the image of complete perfection. Did he see the same flawlessness or were Keon’s cracks on show?
Finishing the job of stripping Milo naked took a matter of seconds, and Keon promised one day soon, when he wasn’t desperately in need, he would draw this out for hours. Touch every inch, curve, patch of skin on offer, and let Milo feel the depth of his love.
Because it was love.
Kissing Milo’s lips one last time, he sat and looked him over, appreciating every part of what made him who he was. Keon swallowed as he ran a hand across Milo’s bare stomach, no longer as emaciated as he’d been when he arrived. He let his touch trail to the hard cock against his stomach, the head flushed red. Another half inch bigger than his.
A part of him needed to pause, stunned this was happening. The other part told him this was the beginning. He let his fingers trace the length, smiling at Milo’s hiss of breath. Watching, as Keon nuzzled the base with his nose and gripped the length in his left hand. Running the tip of his nose from base to head, he stuck his tongue out and flicked it against the slit.
Milo grasped his hair in a strong grip. Moaning when he repeated the act, and let his lips close over the head. Running his hands over Milo’s strong thighs, he worshipped his mate with his mouth. Taking the long length between his lips, he practised bobbing over it, keeping teeth behind his lips.
