that Navid would never be empty? The thought, surreal as it was, lit up a flare of heat in his center. “I love you, Zana,” he forced out between moans. “Love you.”
“I love you too, my sweet darling.”
Zana moved languorously, and Navid adored the fullness, the slow slide in and out, and the short electric jolt in his middle whenever Zana thrust into him to the root. Inside Navid’s body appeared to be a spot where he was extremely sensitive. When the crown of Zana’s cock brushed over it, bliss spread through Navid’s entire torso, bringing him closer and closer to his peak. Zana seemed to know because he stayed buried to the hilt and circled his hips just right. Navid whimpered with the surge of lust.
“Feel that?”
Navid could only gasp for breath.
“Your womb is hiding there, tiny and asleep. When you go into heat, it’ll wake up and open for me. And I’ll push into it and breed you. I’ll spill into your core, and you’ll burst with the love you’ll feel.”
“I’m…Zana…I’m…” I’m yours. I’m yours. I love you.
“Come for me, love.”
And Navid did. Zana kept up the relentless pressure on the spot up there, and Navid’s orgasm didn’t abate. It rolled through him in waves, again and again. Zana sped up, his thrusts long and hard, and Navid screamed.
The euphoric sensation crested, and his limbs grew heavy with tiredness. Zana’s cock was still in him, cum and slick overflowing, and Navid was so in love with the feeling.
“Stay in me,” he managed, all sleepy.
“I’m in you all the time, Navid. And when you feel empty, remember, you carry my heart with you wherever you go.”
He fell asleep like that, impaled on Zana’s perfect cock, loved and safe.
His dreams were peaceful, blurry images, passion and love and future all tangled together. The contentment of being full permeated his subconscious, and Navid dreamed about happiness. Zana’s smile, his warmth, his scent. A child’s joyful squeal. The cherry tree, tall and blooming.
Two months later
Navid had indeed been accepted to all three colleges. The one he wanted to attend was farthest away from the city center. He wouldn’t be able to eat lunch with Zana most days, but the psychology department had a great reputation, and Zana had encouraged him to choose it despite the longer commute. After all, Navid would have Geoff to accompany him and drive him wherever he needed. Excited, Navid began reading the literature in advance.
They spent Christmas in the mountains, and Zana’s parents had visited for New Year’s. Navid liked Zana’s omega father immensely, even though the growing bond was laced with melancholy. He missed his own baba, who was to come to Dalton City in March at the earliest.
The second week in January, Navid’s courses were about to start. To Navid’s great dismay, Zana had a business trip he couldn’t reschedule planned in exactly the same week.
The night before Zana’s departure, Navid watched the snow fall behind the glass as Zana combed his fingers through Navid’s hair. Navid was fascinated by the flurry of white. Like a dream. The snowflakes swirled in the wind, illuminated by the light from the house and the fire crackling in the fireplace.
“If only I could go with you,” he said, breaking the silence.
“I want you to come with me, but I also know how much you’ve looked forward to the semester finally starting. You’d miss five classes.”
“I know I can’t. I just wish I could.”
“I’ll call you every night from the hotel.”
“I slept alone for eighteen years, and now I can’t imagine falling asleep without you holding me.”
Zana nuzzled his temple. “And I’m selfish because I’m happy you’ll miss me.”
“Six nights…” Navid sighed. Only six nights. Why did it feel like forever?
“Come here, love.”
Zana pulled on Navid’s thighs until Navid was straddling him. Without preamble, he reached into Navid’s loose linen pants and pushed his finger into Navid’s opening, making him cry out in surprise.
Zana moved his finger in and out, and Navid moaned, laying his head on Zana’s shoulder. His mind emptied. Zana stroked his insides, teasing more slick out of his body, and added a second finger. He fucked Navid’s hole slowly and deeply, and Navid closed his eyes, giving himself up to the spiraling need.
“What will you miss the most, Navid?”
“Your voice. The things you say to me.”
“What else?”
“Your arms holding me at night.”
“And?”
“Your lips.”
Zana crooked his fingers, circling Navid’s gland, and a jolt of electricity shot through him.
“Continue. Tell me more.”
“I’ll miss your taste. Your hands.