Page 98 of Labor of Love

“Sex is more than penetration, Silas,” he retorted dryly.

Before I answered, I shoved the blankets off Rowan and crawled into bed with him. He scooted down from his seated position so I could stretch out over him, my weight supported on my elbows. “Is that so…”

“Yeah, it’s?—”

Rowan never had a chance to finish his sentence because my mouth swallowed his words. His lips allowed me immediate entry. Our tongues tasted each other for the first time in months. The flavor of sea salt and honey was still strong. As much as I wanted him, I wanted to savor this moment too. The last time, our only time, had been a fevered rush. Now, we sipped and savored until our lungs forced us to pull back for air. I wasn’t ready to let him go. My mouth dropped to explore the column of his neck and the dewy skin laid bare.

“Silas, gods, I’ve wanted you for too long.” I moved down his throat to explore the tight buds on his chest, first one, then the other. “When I was pregnant, I had these dreams about you.” I took a nipple into my mouth and a moan followed his sharp gasp. “I imagined your hands jacking us both until we came.”The other nipple needed equal amounts of attention. “When you came, I imagined you marking me so all other alphas knew who had claimed me.”

“You want me to scent-mark you?” I drew my head back to make sure I heard him correctly. A scent mark wasn’t as permanent as a bite, but it was the first step in the process. I’d refused to let the idea of it enter my mind because if I had, it would’ve never left.

“Yes.”

“Fuck yes.” I crashed my mouth onto Rowan’s, and what had been sweet was now fiery and fierce, needy and naked want.

Rowan’s invitation caused the evolutionary history in my genes to surge forward.

The omega had chosen.

He had chosen me.

I wrenched my mouth away long enough to strip out of my clothes and pull Rowan’s sleep pants off him. Once naked, I fell on Rowan again. I knew I needed to avoid agitating his recovery, but we could do other things to create a scent marking.

“Oh gods, Silas, I can’t wait.”

Who was I to argue with instructions like that? I raised myself over Rowan and straddled his upper thighs. With our precum for lube, I grasped our dicks in my hand. The velvety heat filled my hand. With my first movement, Rowan’s hand moved to grasp my thighs. His tight grip stung but spurred me on to continue the firm strokes.

Rowan arched his back in mindless need. It had been far too long for each of us. The intoxicating scent of sea salt and honey filled the air as my long-dormant shifter core surged to the forefront.

As much as I wanted to feel his channel around me, the concern of accidentally injuring him kept my hands and dick away. I focused on the feel of his cock in my hand, with everystroke bringing us higher and closer to the marking. Rowan’s keening cries seeped into my soul, and I worked hard to bring him satisfaction.

His slick’s scent was an irresistible draw. I gently maneuvered his legs over my shoulders, then lowered my mouth to his core. My tongue lapped at the sticky nectar that tasted like the essence of Rowan. Rather than penetrate him, I focused on all the nerves that edged the rim of his hole. He ground his ass against my mouth seeking more pressure.

We can be slow next time…just mark me now.”

“Sweetheart, are you sure?”

“Gods, yes. Mark me, Alpha.”

With his needed third and final request made, I increased the speed of my hand on our dicks and the pressure of my tongue. Each stroke and lick brought us closer to the connection that would begin the bonding process. The prickles at the base of my spine signaled my release was close, and I doubled my efforts.

My release triggered Rowan’s, and we spilled onto my fist. I massaged our mixed fluids into the scent glands hidden on either side of his neck and along his clavicle. Unless the scent mark was deliberately broken, Rowan’s unique taste would only be available to me, and I’d be unable to taste another omega. We could cheat on each other, but the experience would be wholly unsatisfying to ourselves or the other person. The gods were a tricky bunch.

“I need to feel you,” Rowan said as he jerked me fully onto him. He wrapped his arms and legs around me like his limbs were made of Velcro. His scent and heat surrounded me while his whispered words of praise filled my ears. I buried my face in his neck and let the bond settle over us.

It was enough for now.

9

SILAS

“Honey, I’m home!”

My shouted greeting echoed around the empty hallway, but I heard gurgling and laughing from the family room at the back of the house. The bags stacked in my arms were unceremoniously dropped on the floor. There’d be time to put them away later. I followed the sound, hoping for my favorite sight in the world.

Rowan, hair disheveled and glasses askew, sat on the floor and rolled a soft ball to Audie, who laughed and returned it. His chubby cheeks were rosy and his matching dimples added to his overwhelming cuteness. Rowan, usually so put together, was unconcerned about being caught looking less than perfect.

In the months we’d lived together, he’d relaxed his standards to a reasonable level. Or maybe mine were raised from the basement. Like all couples, it’d taken a few fights and some negotiation as we learned how to navigate living together. I wouldn’t ever understand his toothpaste tube-squeezing rules. Plus, I was certain there was, in fact, more than one way to fold towels. But I didn’t care enough to throw down about either issue.

---