Chapter 36: Chapter 36

Weston isn’t going fast enough.

Putting all his strength into it, Millan push Weston and flips them over, straddling over him.

Weston, surprised and amused, lets Millan take control and smiles trying to go back to kissing, but Millan pulls back.

“Condoms?”

Weston laughs at Millan's impatience.

“Nightstand.”

As Millan extends his upper body to open the nightstand drawer, Weston slowly meanders his fingers down Millan's sides, feeling the goosebumps appearing underneath the small contact.

When Millan's body comes back hovering over him, condom in hand, fumbling with it to open it, Weston lets a hand slide down Millan's back, under his pants, to his bum.

A slight squeeze makes Millan gasp and he has to let go of the condom to brace himself on the bed, arms at Weston’s sides.

Weston smiles and squeezes again, loving the whine Millan lets out.

He kisses alongside Millan's neck, both hands on the curve of Millan's backside, rubbing their erections together.

“Weston…”

Millan has forgotten about the condom now discarded on Weston’s side. He’s reduced to a ball of pleasure and senses.

“What do you want, Mill?”

Weston’s deep voice in his ear makes him shiver, his lips on his neck are relentless, perfectly slow. Millan tries to get some of his composure back.

“Can I…”

Millan loses his train of thought when Weston’s hands start unbuttoning his pants, never stopping the torture on his neck.

“Yes?”

Right, Millan was talking.

“Can I… r- ride you?”

Panting, Millan's voice is almost inaudible.

“Mill, I hereby give you indefinite permission to ride me whenever you desire.”

They both laugh breathlessly.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Frantic, they both help each other out of the rest of their clothes, hands and lips discovering the other’s body hungrily.

Once they’re both fully naked, Weston flips them over again. Millan tries to resist, wanting to stay on top, but Weston easily pins him to the mattress, hovering over him.

It’s as frustrating as it is arousing. Unable to flip them again, Millan tries to reason with Weston.

“I want to ride you.”

“I know, but I’m going to prepare you first.”

“I don’t need prepping, I’m fine.”

Weston pins Millan's hands above his head, golden eyes piercing.

“Millan. I am not going to hurt you even if you ask me to.”

Millan whines and Weston responds with a growl, going back to torturing his throat with his lips, tongue and teeth. Slowly making his way down to his chest.

Millan squirms underneath Weston’s iron grip on him.

“I’m going to have to teach you patience, aren’t I?”

Millan didn’t know Weston’s voice could go that low, almost reduced to vibrations. He moans and bites his bottom lip, interested to know what teaching him patience would entail.

Millan is glad that Weston is taking control and forces him to go slower. It’s crazy how Weston seems to know what Millan wants before he himself knows it.

He doesn’t really register Weston spreading his legs even wider until he feels fingers at his already wet entrance, casually circling it with his own slick. Millan goes to move his hands from above his head, but he gets a pointed look from Weston.

Millan doesn’t need their bond to know what it means and keeps his hands there above his head, cock hardening even more, heavy on his stomach, untouched. When Weston works a finger in gradually, Millan has to look away to stop himself from coming right there and then.

If Weston’s touch was electrifying before, now that he’s brushing against one of the most pleasurable spot in his body, it’s intoxicating.

Their bond tells him that Weston’s just as inflamed as he is. Braving a look, Millan can see it.

Weston’s golden eyes are glazed over, lips red from biting them, from kissing Millan all over, hair a mess, mostly because of Millan's hands. Weston looks like he’s in rut. And now that he thinks about it, Millan probably looks like he’s in heat.

Millan can’t imagine what it would look like if they actually WERE in their cycle.

They probably wouldn’t go that slow. Weston would already be fucking him. Hard.

A finger joins the other one and Millan shivers, he needs more.

“Weston, please.”

“Fuck.” Weston groans. “You already look so… fucked out.”

Millan whines. Weston’s pace is killing him.

“Please…”

“I know, I know.” With his free hand, Weston brushes a finger on his cheek soothingly. Weston gets another finger in and Millan gasps when they hit his spot.

Repeatedly.

Millan's hands grip the sheets above his head tightly. Weston lets out a sound so animalistic, Millan has to check he hasn’t shifted yet.

“I’m ready, I’m ready, please, Weston.” Millan is begging and he doesn’t care that he is.

He needs Weston already. His wolf is restless.

“Okay, okay, shh, I got you.”

Millan feels the blunt tip of Weston’s dick for a second before it slips in. As he sinks into him impossibly slow, hands brush against Millan's shaft and he goes limp underneath Weston.

He cries out, begging for Weston to go faster. When Weston was buried to the hilt, he leaned down and gently bites Millan's bottom lip and Millan clenches around him.

“Fuck, Millan. You feel amazing.”

Weston pulls away, taking his time to Millan's dismay. Shaking from the pleasure radiating in their bond, it’s as if Millan can feel not only his own arousal but Weston’s as well.

It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

Weston is panting, undoubtedly just as affected as Millan is. He pulls out completely and bottoms out again, gradually picking up the pace, to Millan's relief.

Millan moves his hands towards his cock, but Weston doesn’t let him, pinning his wrists above his head again with one hand. The other slips between them, rubbing and sending sparks in Millan's spine.

Weston grunts and goes faster and faster, encouraged by Millan's moans and whines.

“Wes…”

Weston doesn’t let up the quick rhythm he is now set and Millan sees stars.

“Weston, I’m close!”

“Me too.”

Really, they wouldn’t have had to say anything. They both could feel the other on the edge. Their synchronicity going as far as their pleasure.

Weston jerks Millan faster, fire pooling low in their abdomens. Time slows as they both dissolve into pleasure.

Weston’s hips stutter, deep inside Millan, electric waves going through them both. Weston’s weight on him is pleasant as they both come down, panting.

“Fuck.” Weston’s voice cracks, still in his orgasm aftermath.

“Soul mate sex is…”

“Out of this world.”

“Yeah.”

And it is.

The same thing with anyone else would have been great. But with Weston… he could feel so much all at once.

Every little thing, every little touch is overwhelming, dizzying. Being able to feel what the other feels, it really does seem out of this world, surreal, extraordinary.

And the best thing is, they’ve only just begun discovering each other.

There’s so much to try, Millan doesn’t know how they’ll ever do anything else.

*****

Millan can’t remember a time he felt that good.

Weston and him have barely left their room in two days. You’d think they were in rut or in heat, but they really weren’t. They were just insatiable, wanting to explore every inch of each other.

Jace had even brought them water and food at some point. He’d entered covering his eyes with one hand, a tray of sustenance on the other, all the while berating them for their lack of care.

“Mill?”

Weston’s raspy voice barely breaks through Millan's foggy post orgasmic mind.

“Mm?” Millan refuses to offer any more acknowledgement, still basking in Weston’s scent and warmth.

“You’re hungry…”

Millan groans and buries his face in Weston’s chest.

“No, m’not.”

When Jace had brought food, Weston had felt guilty instantly, thinking he hadn’t done a good job of caring for his omega or some archaic crap like that.

Frankly, Millan had never eaten that much before the Blayne Pack. Before, hunger was just part of the deal.

Now though, every time he’s only somewhat hungry, Weston falls over his own feet in a rush to cook.

It’s frustratingly adorable.

“You are. I can feel it.”

Millan groans again. Weston laughs, chin brushing against Millan's hair as he shakes his head slightly. When Weston moves to leave, Millan tightens his grip, unwilling to let the source of his warmth go.

“Mill…?”

Millan sighs, “Okay”

Reluctantly, he eases up on his grip and lets Weston detangle himself, face burying into the pillows as soon as Weston’s chest leaves its spot.

He thinks Weston had left until he feels a hand gently brushing his hair. Turning his head to the side a little, he sees Weston smiling down at him. The returning smile comes naturally.

“You’re really cute.” Weston said, his gold eyes sparkling and the omega’s reflection clearly seen.

Millan tries to control the widening of his smile as Weston bends down to kiss him.

“I love you, Mill.”

“I love you too.”

Millan's grin dissipates slowly as Weston leaves to raid the kitchen, realizing slowly what just happened.

Did Weston really tell him he loves him?

Did Millan really say it back so easily?

It feels like a dream and he has to pinch himself to make sure it isn’t.

What’s more surprising is, it felt right.

It FEELS right.

Millan isn’t second guessing any of it. Just like that, the smile comes back full force.

He’s starting to believe that Weston actually loves him, as odd as it sounds. He’d never thought it would be possible, but he is starting to think that this isn’t just infatuation caused by their natural bond, but that they genuinely love each other.

When Weston comes back, struggling to hold half of the fridge’s contents with only two hands, Millan is still staring at nothing, smiling like an idiot.

Yeah. They love each other. Simple.

It doesn’t have to be complicated for once.