They were still curled inside the nest. Colin’s back was curved towards Diwa, one arm clutching the bunched duvet againsthis chest. The fine hairs at his nape were damp, and the sheet beneath him was soaked through in a spreading patch that Diwa could feel under his own hip where their bodies overlapped. Colin’s breathing came in short, shallow pulls.
Diwa’s hand came up to Colin’s shoulder. The skin under his palm was furnace-hot and slick with sweat, and the brief contact drew a full-body shudder out of Colin.
“Colin.” He kept his voice low. “I’m here.”
Colin’s hand came up and closed around his wrist. When he turned his head on the pillow, his eyes were open, but their usual sharp focus had softened at the edges.
“Morning,” Colin said. His voice was rough, stripped back.
“How far along are you?”
“Getting there.” Colin drew Diwa’s hand down from his shoulder, across his ribs, and pressed it flat against his stomach. The muscle underneath was trembling in fine, continuous waves. “Don’t make a fuss.”
“I’m not making a fuss.”
“You’re about to. I can hear you thinking.” Colin shifted his hips, and the wet sound of his body moving against the soaked linen carried in the quiet room. His thighs were glazed with slick. “Just…come here.”
Diwa moved behind him. His chest came to rest against Colin’s spine, his arm went around Colin’s ribs, and the omega’s scent closed over him until his vision narrowed to the back of Colin’s neck. He pressed his mouth there and breathed in. A voice in the back of his brain that was older than reason was telling him to bite down to stake his claim.
Colin reached back between them, closed around Diwa’s cock, and guided him in without preamble. The slide into him was effortless, Colin’s body was open, pulling him deeper with every clenching pulse. Diwa’s forehead dropped against Colin’s shoulder as the breath left him in one hard exhale.
His arm tightened around Colin’s chest, and he moved. Colin’s body dictated the pace, his hips pressing back into each thrust, one hand white-knuckled around Diwa’s wrist, the other braced against the headboard. They were urgent and graceless in their lovemaking, Colin’s breath leaving him in keening cries.
When Colin came, Diwa followed him over with his teeth sunk into his own lip and his knot already swelling. Colin pushed back onto his cock, grinding down until they were locked together, and Diwa held him through the pulsing aftermath with his face pressed into Colin’s hair.
Colin’s breathing slowed. His fingers loosened around Diwa’s wrist, and Diwa felt the moment the first wave of his heat released him, responding to the pheromones in his alpha’s come. There was a softening throughout his whole body, the tension running out of his shoulders.
“Water,” Colin said.
Diwa kissed the back of his neck. “Give me a minute. We’re still locked.”
“I know that. I can feel your cock in me, Diwa. I’m telling you what I’ll need when you can move.”
“Water. Got it. Anything else?”
“Toast. And stop grinning into my neck, I can feel that too.”
Diwa grinned harder, pressed his mouth to the soft skin of Colin’s neck, and waited for his body to let him go.
The knot released twenty minutes later, and Diwa slid out carefully, kissed Colin’s shoulder, and went to make his omega toast.
He brought it back with water, and a tea towel. Colin ate two slices without sitting up, leaving crumbs in the sheets. Diwa wiped his face and neck with the tea towel while Colin chewed, and Colin let him do it without comment, which was how Diwa knew the heat was still building. The Colin who existed outsideof this room would have taken the towel out of his hand and told him he wasn’t an infant.
By noon, Colin stopped using his words to communicate. The heat had taken over, narrowing his world to his alpha, and the next thing his body needed.
Colin’s hands replaced his speech. A fist in Diwa’s T-shirt pulled him down, and his fingers pressed into his hip to angle him. Diwa learnt the new vocabulary in minutes: the heel of Colin’s hand against his shoulder meantharder; Colin’s thumb tracing his jaw meantslow down; the arch of his spine, his pelvis lifting off the mattress, meantmore, more, more.
They moved through the cottage in stages. They fucked on the kitchen counter, where Colin braced himself on his forearms while Diwa pressed into him from behind, one hand splayed over his stomach. The living room floor, the sheepskin rug bunched under Colin’s knees, Diwa flat on his back beneath him while Colin rode him with his head thrown back and his hands gripping Diwa’s wrists against the floorboards. The armchair by the wood burner, where Colin straddled his lap and ground down onto him, face buried in Diwa’s neck.
Each time, Diwa followed his omega’s lead.
In the late afternoon, Colin pulled him through to the adjoining room.
The swing’s matte black webbing and padded leather caught the last of the daylight. Colin climbed into it without hesitation, his thighs settling into the stirrups, his hands gripping the suspension straps above his head. The webbing took his weight and held him at exactly the right height, his arse at the edge of the seat, his legs spread wide.
Diwa stepped between his knees and manoeuvred the swing into position.
Colin looked wrecked. Slick ran from his hole down the backs of his thighs and dripped from the swing’s leather seat onto thefloorboards beneath. His cock lay hard and flushed against his stomach, leaking onto the trail of hair below his navel. Sweat sheened his collarbones and the bracket of his ribs. His head had tipped back against the headrest, and he watched Diwa through half-open eyes that burned for him.
