Milo pulled the cloth away to reveal a leather-bound book beneath. He gasped and traced fingertips over the cover, reconnecting with the heecha journal of his ancestors.
“I’m glad it was returned safely.” Keon had feared they’d never find it, but hadn’t stopped hoping. He would have raised every floorboard, dug through every muddy trench in the village for it, because the book belonged with Milo, the same way he belonged with Keon.
Milo held the book to his chest, posture relaxed as he snuggled into Keon’s arms. “You don’t want to read it?”
“Why?” He nosed at Milo’s neck and scraped a kiss across the bruise. “Anything I need to know inside?”
“Not that I know of,” Milo answered hesitantly, “but you can never be sure. Sometimes it’s hard to interpret the old entries.”
Keon dropped a kiss to his neck and hummed. “If you find anything, you can let me know,” he bargained, scraping fingernails over Milo’s chest. When he squirmed and tilted his head, Keon gladly let his fingers slip between the buttons to make skin-on-skin contact.
Milo placed the book on the coffee table and twisted to kiss him. “Take me to bed.”
Keon nipped at his bottom lip. “Where’s the fun in that?” He wrapped his arms around Milo to ease him against his chest. Keon sucked a kiss to Milo’s neck and rubbed his palm over the growing erection in his jeans, shoving the zipper down and slipping a hand inside.
Milo gasped and fumbled to undo the button, tugging the fabric open to allow more room. He tilted his head to provide better access as Keon kissed his way up the column of his neck to his ear and palmed his cock. A tug with his free hand and he had it free of the confines of his clothes, stroking the length. Twisting his wrist at the head, he dragged his tongue up Milo’s neck in a long, luxurious lick.
A hand found its way into his lap, rubbing against his cock as Milo mouthed at his arm. Scraping teeth over his biceps, hips rocking into his hand, back against Keon’s hard cock.
Keon could have kept him waiting for hours, despite the double torture of watching his pleasure and being included. Milo’s scent intensified and slipped from content to aroused to the distinctive mix of clover and morning dew. A heady reminder of their bond and how they had mated in all ways but the ceremony. The final act, making love and marking the permanence of their bond.
If they made love tonight, exchanged blood and fluids in the right ways, they would be mated. Only missing the paperwork and the official ceremony.
With Milo in hand, whining with need as he slipped a hand under the waistband of Keon’s joggers, he wanted it more than he could bear. He wanted to give Milo everything: the ceremony and the recognition of a pack attendance to properly romance and seduce him to strengthen their bond.
Milo twisted in his arms, pushing his hand away, and Keon met his lips in a deep kiss. Milo straddled him and didn’t notice the fumbles as his knee slipped off the sofa. Keon caught his thigh and readjusted his knee, basking in every desperate kiss and caress.
“One day,” he whispered between kisses, wrapping a hand around Milo’s cock to stroke lazily, “I’ll finally have this inside me, and you’ll mark me. Yours. Forever.”
Milo whined and clutched at his hair. “You don’t want to fuck me?” he asked without judgement, without resistance.
Keon plucked another kiss as a twist of his wrist made Milo gasp and his eyelashes flutter. “Yeah, I do. I want both. We can make our own rules.” He didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. He wanted Milo inside him.
“You do love to do the unexpected.”
Keon let his hands drift around Milo’s hips to grasp at his tight ass. His eyes closed when Milo tugged the T-shirt from his neck to suck at his collarbone. Squeezing pert ass cheeks, he tilted his head to give Milo better access, soft lips driving him crazy.
Swallowing to lubricate his throat, he tugged Milo hard and he squeaked. Keon bent his head to drag his tongue over the swollen head of Milo’s cock.
“Fuck,” Milo whispered, clutching at his hair as Keon lifted him and flipped them over, tossing Milo to the cushions to lie over him.
As he sucked the head into his mouth, Milo moaned and arched, shifting into a more comfortable position to drag a cushion behind his head. His breath hitched as Keon took him deep, alternating long sweeps of his tongue with the added pressure of a hand stroking every inch not in his mouth.
Humming to add an extra sensation, Keon sucked the first drop of pre-come. A groan morphed a gasp into a sharp cry as Milo’s orgasm built in intensity. The needy sounds, the fingernails scratching at his shoulders, the instinctive rise of his hips as he sought more fed something indescribable inside.
Keon’s hand drifted to his cock, tugging at heavy balls, desperate to find the place Milo had disappeared to.
When it came, when Milo cried out and dug nails into his arm, when Keon swallowed every last drop, he found it. Nirvana. The high. The ecstasy of what everyone had talked about, what they described in their books, what they acted out in films…he understood how it was meant to be. Whatever they’d had before was nothing compared to this.
Milo’s fingers stroking his hair, hoarse voice whispering his name, roused him from that place. When Keon let Milo’s spent cock fall from his mouth and answered the silent call of grabby hands to kiss Milo, he knew it was right.Thiswas right.
I wanted to tell you, Milo whispered in his mind.
Days ago, he wouldn’t have understood, but Nirvana only happened for one reason.I love you too, mikha.He kissed the tears from Milo’s eyes and held him.You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’ve got you. You’re mine. I love you.
There was no Keon without Milo, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
*
