Page 63

“I…” He swallowed. “If it’s what you want, then I?—”

Pember growled deep in his belly, and before Blake could react, he’d pushed himself forward, sliding up his cock and smashing his arse against his hips. A rush of air left Blake’s lungs as he found himself on his back with Pember sitting on top of him.

“No,” Pember hissed, hips rocking back and forth. “No, I’ve decided.”

Blake gripped his waist, eyes wide. “Decided what?”

“You’re not doing that anymore, Blake.” Pember tipped his head back, opening his throat as his fingers clutched at the hem of his T-shirt.

Blake sat up, ripping the T-shirt off then dropping his head to draw Pember’s hard pink nipple into his mouth. It was as though a fire had been lit, the connection between their bodies like a white-hot inferno of desire.

Gone was the soft, fragile creature he’d met in the woods. Now Pember was directing their pleasure with every rock and slip of his supple body. And Blake was happy to give it. Pember’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging until Blake looked up at him.

“I’ve decided,” he said again, green eyes consumed with heat as he slowed his rhythm. “No more staying late. No more neglecting your own needs. When you give me the bite, it’ll be because you want to. Not because you feel you have to.”

He gripped Blake’s chin, holding his gaze.

He looked different. There was something primal in his eyes.

Something wild, something sensual, something wholly…

omega. It was his wolf, staring at him through the haze of pleasure.

He didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare speak should it displease his mate. He could only nod like an idiot.

“You will give me the bite when you can’t think of anything else,” Pember said through gritted teeth. “You will crawl to me on your hands and knees, Blake Smith. You will beg me for my throat, and you will be grateful when I give it to you.”

“Yes,” Blake whispered. “Yes, I will kiss the fucking ground you walk on, Pem.”

Pember let out a shaky breath, his eyes slowly closing.

“Good,” he said, a lopsided smile splitting his face.

He pulled Blake against his chest, the other hand stroking his own cock as he rocked and bounced in his lap.

The only thing Blake could do was get swept along in the current of Pember’s pleasure.

“B-Blake,” he eventually whimpered, driving himself down harder onto his cock. “Blake, Blake,” he chanted, body tensing and squeezing.

Blake threw his head back and smashed a hand into the mattress, thrusting up so he was pounding into Pember from below.

Hot, wet slaps reverberated around the room, bouncing off the walls and filling the whole house with the sound of their sex.

His skin crackled in a way it never had before.

It was the feeling he’d chased when he was a teenager.

All the drinking, partying, one-night stands.

All the things that had left him feeling hollow.

But now he was alive and sharply aware of just how fucking good Pember’s body felt around him, how his back flushed with sweat and his thighs twitched. He held him tight, shuddering as the confines of his velvet heat had them tumbling into orgasm together.

They both let out loud groans as Blake’s seed gushed into him, coating his insides in wet waves.

“O-oh,” Pember moaned, leaning back and chasing the feeling of Blake’s cock against his prostate, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until he spilled all over their chests. His skin was pebbled in gooseflesh, slippery and hot as his toes curled in the bottom sheet.

They both sat shuddering in the middle of the bed, covered in sweat and painted in Pember’s come. Gripping Pember’s arms, Blake laid them both down, his wet cheek sliding over his sternum. Pember’s eyes were closed and they were both breathing hard, unable to speak.

If Blake could have bottled a moment in time, it would have been then. The closeness, the intimacy of breathing together after sex. His knot ached with the release, and even though not fully engorged, he could feel it pressing against Pember’s entrance.

He wanted to knot him. His wolf wanted to knot him. Together, they really wanted to knot him, and he imagined just how beautifully Pember’s body would stretch around him when the time came.

Blake almost didn’t notice when his phone started ringing. “Fuck off,” he sighed, flicking it off the bedside table.

Pember chuckled, pushing up onto his knees and whimpering when Blake’s cock slipped out with a gush of creamy fluid. They kissed lazily, despite the phone continuously ringing, their movements sloppy and tired.

“It’s still going,” Pember whispered, sitting up in Blake’s lap. “It could be important.”

Blake wet his lips and pinched Pember’s thighs. “I swear to God, if it’s another fucking body…”

Sighing, Pember slipped into the space under his arm. “I actually don’t think they can cope without you.” He chuckled, kicking his legs across the mattress.

Blake huffed and scooped the phone off the floor. It was Caitlin. “They better learn to fucking cope because I’m not leaving this bed anytime soon.” He put the phone on loudspeaker. “What?”

“Oh! You’re up. I thought you might still be asleep.”

“What do you want, Caitlin?”

The other alpha laughed and clicked her tongue. “Sorry. Interrupting something, was I?”

“Spit it out, Cait.”

Pember slapped his chest, mouthing, Don’t be so rude.

Caitlin chuckled and cleared her throat.

“Good morning to you too, DS Smith. I’m calling to let you know that Falkington CID have taken over the lab.

They’re re-processing our samples and carrying out continuity checks.

Tell Mr McArthur to work out of the report-writing room for the time being. He won’t be allowed in the lab.”

Blake’s gaze flicked to Pember. His eyes were wide and stricken.

“But before that,” she continued, “the boss wants to see you. Both of you, as soon as you arrive. Don’t go anywhere else.”

Blake’s eyebrow twitched and he pulled Pember closer. They were cheek to cheek as he cautiously said, “Why?”

Caitlin coughed. “I can’t say much right now. The boss will fill you in when?—”

“Is this an ambush, Cait?”

She let out a breath. “Jesus, Blake. Calm your tits.”

“Caitlin, I swear to fucking God?—”

“No,” she snapped. “This isn’t a fucking ambush, just get both your arses to the station.”

Pember let out a strangled sound and hopped up from the bed, Blake tried to grab his arm, but he slipped out of the room without another word.

Blake growled, swinging his legs over the bed and stalking to the bathroom. Pember was already in the shower, and it felt like a bucket of cold water had been tipped over their quiet post-sex repose.

Blake could not have resented Caitlin more in that moment.

“Anything else?” Blake barked, squirting toothpaste onto a toothbrush and jamming it into his mouth.

“Yeah, the night shift have turned up some pretty interesting findings from Reuben Atkinson’s medical exam.”

Blake tried to grab Pember’s arm as he jumped out of the shower, but he slipped out of his grasp like an eel.

Toast? he mouthed, pulling on another of Blake’s T-shirts as he bolted towards the stairs. Blake managed a curt nod before Pember disappeared from the landing.

Out of pure spite, he kept Caitlin on loudspeaker as he showered. “So what’s this earth-shatteringly important intel, Cait?”

Caitlin grumbled. “This feels so fucking wrong,” she said, as Blake scrubbed his balls.

“It’s what you get for calling first thing in the morning.”

“I can just call you back.”

“And take up more of my time? I don’t think so.”

“Fuck you. My morning’s been cut short too. The kids have got their Easter pageant today, but now I’m going to fucking miss it.”

They bickered back and forth until she eventually gave up and said, “I’ll just speak to you later. Jesus fucking Christ, you awkward bastard.”

Blake snorted, letting the phone cut off, leaving him with the dial tone. Showering just as quickly as Pember, he pulled on a pair of boxers and headed downstairs. Pember was bustling around in the kitchen, all of the cupboard doors flung open.

“Where’s your coffee?” he said, holding a carton of milk. “And you have no bread.”

Blake tipped his head. That wasn’t surprising—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had groceries delivered. Quietly walking towards the kitchen, he rounded the small rectangular table and pressed his fingers to the nape of Pember’s neck.

“Slow down,” he said, squeezing slightly. “We’ve got time.”

Pember shivered, leaning back into the touch. “We don’t have time. You heard DS Vaughan—we’ve got to get to work.”

Blake chuckled, pulling Pember against him. Reaching down, he ran his palms up the backs of his bare thighs, chest rumbling when he found he was wearing nothing underneath the T-shirt.

“S-stop it,” Pember whispered, flushing as Blake pulled the T-shirt up.

“I like this,” he growled, nuzzling into Pember’s hair. “I think I’ll ban underwear in the mornings.”

Pember huffed, squirming when Blake dipped his fingers between his arse cheeks. He was still wet, and it stroked some primal part of Blake’s brain to know that it was his seed dripping down his thighs.

“Cereal. Do you have cereal?” Pember squeaked.

Blake toed open a cupboard next to the fridge. “It’s probably stale as hell,” he said.

“Are those Coco Pops? And Frosties?”

Blake hummed. “No need to sound so judgemental.”

Pember laughed and wriggled out of his grasp. “I’m not. I just expected you to be more of a Weetabix kind of guy.”

Blake raised an eyebrow. “Brown, with the appearance and taste of cardboard?”

“Well, yeah, kind of. I just assumed with your heart condition you wouldn’t eat sugary things. This is borderline kids’ cereal.”

Blake laughed. “Would it surprise you to learn that I’ve been known to eat Pop-Tarts after midnight?”

It was entirely Oliver’s fault for introducing him to the realm of shit sugary snacks.