Page 44 of Fighting Fate (Monsters of London #4)

Vince

Patch does agree to cover the rest of Dax’s shift but not without a dramatic roll of his eyes and a vaguely threatening glare he throws in my direction. I’ll worry about that later. Of course I want to be on good terms with Dax’s closest friend, but right now I need to get my hands on him, and I think it might be a bigger problem if I tackle him to the floor of this pub.

“I’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight as well, shall I?” Patch says as we head to the door.

Dax hesitates and I tighten my grip on his hand. His smile wavers. “I—”

“Fucking go , Dax,” Patch says, and there’s a laugh in his voice now. “I’ll be fine. But you’ve got a three-day time limit, okay? Otherwise, I’m gonna have to come back for some stuff.”

“Thanks, Patch.”

He waves us off and I pull Dax out onto the street. He only lives about ten minutes away from the pub, and I keep my eyes on the way ahead so I don’t get distracted into kissing him senseless.

Not all the hurt is gone. It’s there, with the wish that Dax had told me before we got into that argument. There’s just no point in lingering on those thoughts. I can’t change it, and neither can he.

Dax pulls me close as we approach the building, one massive arm around my shoulders. I lean into his side, greedily breathing in the scent of him, which makes his cheeks go pink.

“We don’t have to do anything once we’re up there,” he says.

I frown and stop, bringing us to a halt halfway up the path. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… We still probably have things to talk about. I don’t want to rush you to do things because I want them.”

I slide out from under his arm, and the resigned look on his face makes my heart hurt. “Dax. Look at me.”

He reluctantly drags his eyes up from the ground. “I can take you—”

I shake my head, and he stops talking. “We definitely do have things to talk about. But fucking hell, Dax. Don’t ever doubt that I want you. You know that.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“No.” I reach out and grab his hands. “I don’t care what wolf shit you have to do, or what I have to do to make you believe it, but I always want you.”

I look him over slowly, lingering on every flex of muscle that makes my eyes water. Dax whimpers when my eyes land on his crotch, and I drag them back up again with a filthy smirk. He holds still as I lean in, pausing only when our mouths are a breath away from each other.

“I don’t care if you fuck me or I fuck you, but I really want to feel you tonight,” I say. “As long as that’s what you want.”

Dax growls. His eyes flood with silver just before he kisses me, and I gasp into his mouth. Fuck, yes. He grabs at me, grip tight enough to leave bruises. I groan when he bites my lower lip and his tongue slides alongside mine.

Fuck it. I don’t care that we’re still outside. I want Dax to be sure, and I think this will help him. It’ll help me. Remind me that he’s not going anywhere—that the spike of fear I felt when he said he was thinking about leaving is something I don’t need to feel again.

“Vince,” Dax murmurs against my mouth, then my jaw. “We have to… We need to…”

“I know.” We should go inside. Dax’s hand lands on my arse and he squeezes hard. I whine and grip his shoulders. “Dax, please.”

“Inside,” he says, voice still a growl. “Now.”

We hustle inside and to the lift, though I don’t pay attention as we climb floors. I’m too busy sticking my tongue down Dax’s throat as he shoves me up against the side of the lift, rocking against me.

It’s like we haven’t touched in years, let alone weeks. Dax nips under my jaw and the lift dings, coming to a stop. I pant into the silence. “You have a bed,” I say. We really should get out.

“We aren’t going to make it to the bed.”

My cock kicks so hard, I’m sure I’m about to come. The sound that leaves my mouth is broken and desperate, and Dax growls again, then hauls me out of the lift. He doesn’t carry me, but I’m definitely not making my way down the corridor of my own volition.

I don’t fucking care. Let him do what he wants with me.

He leans me against the wall as he fishes his key out of his pocket, and I don’t help at all. No. I move closer, kissing down his neck as I shove my hands up under his T-shirt. Dax fumbles the key into the lock and swears. “It’s hard to focus with you doing that,” he mutters.

I reach for the button on his jeans, and he bats my hand away with a faint laugh. He turns the key, the door opens, and then we’re stumbling through and into the hall.

Dax kisses me again, pushing me up against the wall as he does. He kicks the door shut without looking and I toe off my shoes before I hitch my thigh up around his legs. A shudder runs through Dax as our cocks meet through our trousers. He tears his mouth away to breathe.

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” he says.

“I know I won’t last long.” I grin and pull him in for another kiss. He grabs my arse again, this time lifting me, and I wrap my legs around his hips. Instead of carrying me anywhere, we stay pressed up against the wall, right next to the front door, and hell, if he wants to fuck me here, I’m absolutely down for it.

“Fuck,” Dax mutters. “Fuck.”

“Yes, but that’s not really the tone I was hoping to hear from you.”

“No, I—” He looks up at me, all flushed and tousled, and I force myself to stay still because he clearly has something to tell me. “If we do this, it’ll strengthen the bond.”

“What do you mean? Make it like the others’?”

“No, not quite. They’ve had to do the mating rites for that.”

“And we’re not doing that?”

“Not tonight?”

It’s a question, a quick dart of his eyes to me then away, and I grin, leaning in to brush our lips together. I jerk back before Dax can deepen the kiss. Not that I get far. He’s still holding me up.

“What will happen, then?”

“The bond will get stronger. You’ll be able to feel me more, and I’ll be able to feel you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I don’t know which one of us is more surprised by the ease with which the words tumble out of my mouth. Dax blinks at me, eyes all wide and round, and says, “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t have come back for you if I didn’t think I’d be all in, Dax. That’s not fair. And it’s like I said downstairs. I’m sure I’ll… wobble, at times, but that’s not because of you. Got it?”

He barks a laugh at my mock stern expression. “Got it. And I promise, I’ll be honest with you about everything from now on. No matter what.”

I frown, pursing my lips. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“I mean, you can lie about some things.”

Dax shakes his head. “No.”

“Like, if I ask you what you’re getting me for my birthday or for our anniversary… Or if I’m wearing something I clearly love but looks terrible on me. Or—”

Dax kisses me, but he’s smiling into it, so he gets the point. “Surprises,” he says against my mouth, “I’ll keep to myself. But the rest is all yours. Everything about me is yours.”

Oh, fuck. I kiss him harder, tightening my arms around his neck as I put my whole body into it. Dax gives as good as he gets, hands roaming under my clothes and over my skin, but fuck, now I want us naked and—Not even horizontal, frankly. We can manage like this.

Dax seems to be of the same mind as me. He pushes my T-shirt up, and between us, we get it off, leaving it to drop on the floor of the hall. I drag his up as he kisses my shoulder, and he grumbles when he has to lean back to get it off.

I’m definitely not complaining. My mouth waters at the sight of all his bare skin, and I skim my lips down one pec, letting them linger on his nipple. Dax’s surprised grunt makes me want to grin.

“Bedroom,” he says.

I look up at him and shake my head before I very deliberately lean in and close my teeth around his nipple. Dax growls, eyes more silver than brown now.

“We need lube,” he says, his voice rough, and I let go and lift my head.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

I laugh just before Dax kisses me and hold on to him as he pulls me away from the wall and we head towards his bedroom. He’s not wrong. We can fuck bare, but there’s no way he’s getting inside me without lube.

No way I’m getting inside him? Ooh, I’m spoilt for choice.

Dax sets me on my feet once we’re in his room and while he grabs the lube, I take off my joggers and underwear. He looks me over slowly, leisurely, and the ease and confidence on his face… I want him to feel that way all the time. Not horny, just—at home in his own skin. To know that he’s good enough.

His eyes snap from my chest to my face, and I feel the pulse of some uncertainty.

“Dax?”

“You—We…”

He can feel that, too? Seems abstract, but I don’t mind. I cross the room in two quick strides and take his face in my hands.

“You’re perfect, Dax,” I say.

He frowns. “I’m not. No one is.”

“Perfect for me, then. That’s what this bond is, isn’t it? Some sign that we were made for one another?” Nerves flutter in my stomach. I can do this.

“Not always.” He takes hold of my right wrist with his free hand and pulls my hand from his face. My stomach flutters again, but not with nerves this time, when he kisses my palm. “You said it. We’ll argue. We’ll work at it.”

“We’ll make the choice,” I say, nodding. I curl my fingers around Dax’s cheek. “Wanna fuck now?”

He huffs, but the sound is amused, and I press a lightning-fast kiss to his lips before I turn and climb onto the bed. I drop onto my stomach, breathing in Dax’s scent, lingering as it is on his pillows.

The mattress dips and I spread my legs without looking back. Dax strokes down my back and over the curve of my arse.

“Am I doing all the work?”

“This time, why not?”

Like I’m just going to lie here the entire time. Dax chuckles—he knows it, too—and he kisses my nape before he reaches down and spreads me wide. I gasp when he rubs his thumb over my hole, pressing gently. God, I know I should have him go slow. But I can take it, and I want him.

“Don’t linger,” I say, arching my hips back a little. “Need you.”

Dax makes a rumbling sound and when he presses against my hole again, his fingers are slick. I exhale, eyes closed, and the first finger slides in easily. Something in me stills as if waiting on a cliff edge. The bond?

I’m excited for us to be closer. I’m excited to spend more time with him, to wake up next to him, to spend lazy days together watching stuff he doesn’t hate. That reflexive fear is still there—that he’ll find someone better, that he’ll have enough, that he’ll leave—but it’s suddenly much easier to push aside and view through rational eyes.

Dax’s free hand strokes my lower back, the movement soothing. He’s as desperate as I am. I can feel it. Even without the bond, I can feel the way his muscles quiver as he fucks me slowly open on one finger, then two.

“It’s enough,” I say, earlier than Dax likes, if the questioning sound he makes means anything. I don’t care. It is. I look back at him over my shoulder, aching with how empty I feel, and his hands tighten in a way I know will leave fingerprint bruises on my skin.

“Yeah, okay. Do you want—”

“No. Get in me , Dax.”

He slicks up his cock and I rise up onto my hands and knees. Later, we’ll take it slow. I’ll sit in Dax’s lap, or he’ll loom over me, and we’ll stare, lovestruck, into each other’s eyes, but for now—

Dax presses against me, pushes inside, and the heat and the stretch and the desire that flood me—desire from both of us—have my back arching. A pained, desperate sound escapes me, and Dax doesn’t stop because he knows I don’t want him to. I want him deeper. I want to know nothing but him.

His teeth scrape my shoulder as he bottoms out, and they feel too sharp, but I don’t care. He holds himself deep, but I squeeze around him, ignoring his warning growl. “Fuck me, Dax.”

His hand lands on my nape, shoving my face down into the pillow, and I let out a breathless laugh as he begins to fuck me harder. Yes. This is what I want. Every slap of our skin forces another groan from my throat as Dax fucks me hard and fast, hands tight and possessive on my skin.

Dax’s cock hits my prostate, and I swear I see stars. He bites my shoulder again, turning his face into my throat. “You feel so good.”

I turn my head and kiss him. We’re uncoordinated, still trying to move together, and we both laugh breathlessly when the kiss breaks. “So do you. Ugh. Keep doing that.”

Dax moves like he could do this forever, even if I know he can’t. Neither of us can. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t last long, either. I reach for my cock, smearing pre-cum over my length, and Dax swears when I start stroking myself.

“Do it, Vince,” he says, and the note of command in his voice is really fucking hot, actually. “Let go.”

I stroke myself faster, the bed rocking with each of Dax’s powerful thrusts. I want him to come, too. Want to feel him inside me. His scent… that will be there too, won’t it? Though I’m sure all the wolves in this building already know I’m his.

He’s mine .

Dax moves his mouth to my other shoulder, body curved over mine. His cock hammers in and out of my hole, and the arm I’m using to hold myself up trembles. Fuck. I’m so fucking close, moaning and whimpering, cock throbbing in my tight grip—

Pleasure crests and I come with Dax’s name on my lips. He bites my shoulder harder, not quite enough to break skin, and somehow that pain makes my cock throb and more cum spurt onto the bed. He’s still going, but when I almost fall onto my chest, Dax sweeps an arm around my middle and pulls me back against him.

He fucks me like that, me sitting on his lap, shallow pumps of his hips that have his cock dragging against my insides. My head lolls back and I close my eyes. I feel like a rag doll, giving myself entirely over to him.

“Vince,” he says, desperation colouring his voice.

I turn my head and press my lips to his throat. He shivers all over, and his cock pushes deeper into me. “Whenever you’re ready, baby. You’re so fucking good at this. Fill me up.”

Dax growls, crushing me to him, but it’s only a couple more thrusts before he’s doing as I asked. Cum floods my channel and Dax sits back on his heels, breathing hard. I stay leaning back against him.

He strokes over my stomach and hips, and for a moment, we stay just like that—me, still on Dax’s lap, his cock keeping me stuffed full. I let out a contented sigh and he kisses my sweaty temple.

“I love you,” he says, the words plain and clear.

I grab the hand he has on my stomach and drag it up until it rests over my heart. Dax lets out a quiet contented sigh. I tip my head back against his shoulder.

I can’t say it yet. Not quite. But I wasn’t lying earlier. I’m well on the way.

Dax knows that, I think. He kisses my shoulder. “Sorry I almost threw it away,” he whispers.

I press his hand against my heart a little harder. “You didn’t. We didn’t.” He kisses me again, and I smile. “I do have one question for you, though. And I need you to be honest.”

I can’t quite see his expression when I turn my head, but I feel his concern, his desire to do the right thing. “Always. I won’t lie to you again.”

“Dax is a nickname, right?”

“Yes.”

“So…” I trail off and Dax chuckles against my shoulder.

“Declan. I don’t have a middle name.”

“Declan Skelly. Cute.” I tap a finger against the back of his hand. I don’t have much to offer, but… “My middle name’s Michael.”

Dax kisses the same patch of skin for a third time. “I love you, Vincent Michael Peyton.”

I laugh, and it sounds a little wild. Maybe I can’t say it back yet, but… “I’m glad you’re my mate, Declan Skelly.”