to the marrow of his bones.
Eight
Micah
Micah had never been so hungry in his life. He gobbled the scrambled eggs Travis had made. And coffee. Mmm, coffee. Tomatoes. Buttered toast. Did the hormones enhance his taste too? He loved buttered toast. Why didn’t he ever make it at home anymore? The eggs were fluffy and creamy, and the melting butter dripped from the bread onto the rich yolk…oooh.
Travis chuckled.
“Wha…?” Micah mumbled with his mouth full.
“Don’t eat the fork.”
Micah swallowed and lifted his eyebrow. “Forgive me, but I’ve spent days fucking like a rabbit. I’m hungry. Stop judging and make more toast.”
Travis laughed, a sincere, deep belly laugh. Micah’s insides warmed.
“Toast and butter, coming right up.”
Micah cleaned his plate with the rest of his bread and drank more coffee while Travis waited for the next piece to pop out of the toaster.
After the nap and coffee, stomach full, Micah grew restless. “Can we go outside before it starts again?” Damn, he missed running. At the same time, he felt jellified. He’d probably barely manage a short walk before he’d need to lie down again.
“Maybe?” Travis shrugged. “We can try. We just need to stay close to the chalet.”
A quiet, high-pitched sound came from the open door.
“I think I heard the washing machine beep.”
Travis waggled his eyebrows. “Fresh sheets.”
Micah shifted in his seat at the memory of the soiled bed covers. “Maybe we should use towels or something? So you don’t have to change the sheets all the time.”
“I don’t think it would’ve made any difference,” Travis said with a teasing smile, and Micah flushed.
The string of heat waves was a blur of colors and sensations in his mind. Like a dream he couldn’t quite recall. What he did remember made him hot and bothered and embarrassed all at the same time. Some recollections were so surreal. Had they really done and said all that, or had he imagined it?
I’ll stab my cock all the way into your womb and pump you full of my cum. I’ll fuck you so hard and deep I’ll knock you up.
Do it. Fuck me! Fuck me!
Not a virgin anymore, are you? I turned you into a filthy, cum-crazed slut. I pried you open like a little treasure box. Painted your virgin womb with my cream…
Travis couldn’t really have said that, could he? And Micah had liked it? He liked it now in a shameful, let-me-jerk-off-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-never-tell-a-soul kind of way. However, he was sure he had felt it. That hadn’t been a dream. Travis’s cock had reached a different place in his body last night. Reflexively Micah put a palm over his belly. There. Travis had been there. The thought aroused him as much as it made him afraid. He knew Travis couldn’t have impregnated him during his very first heat. Still, the huge cock had been there, and Travis had poured his seed into Micah’s womb. It had to mean something, right?
Shh, it’s inside you, my needy sweetheart. All my cum. It’s yours. Feel it.
Travis, I love you. I’m yours.
Had he told Travis he loved him?
His cum is still in me.
Hand over his belly, he watched Travis move in the kitchen. He felt confused, strangely happy, but scared too. The man was huge, not only in size. His presence was overwhelming, taking over Micah’s senses and thoughts, dragging him closer like gravity. Does everyone feel like this about their mate during their heat? At the same time, Micah knew with absolute certainty that if things had been different, if he hadn’t run away, he would never have felt this drawn to Peter. No. He’d never have wanted Peter inside him, not even in the worst throes of senseless passion. And with another breath, a sense of lightness spread in his chest. It’s done. Peter can never have me. With a soft smile, Micah rubbed his stomach just under his belly button, where Travis had left his mark on him. He imagined an invisible thread coming from that spot, leading to his mate, tying them together. Would it still be there in a few days? Another flash of memory accosted him, more a dream than a real recollection, but his eyes burned.
Micah, my love, we belong to each other now. Your body won’t ever allow you to leave me.
Was it possible? Had he dreamed those whispered words? Did Travis remember saying them?
Travis spread butter on the fresh toast and turned to put it on Micah’s plate. He paused, eyes fixed on Micah’s hand, where it rested over his belly.