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Somehow they solve the case without Gil snapping. He gets close a handful of times, nearly snarls in their prime suspect’s face during interrogation before JT gets him to confess, almost breaks the coffee maker in the breakroom when it takes too long to brew.
If the brass hadn’t insisted he be there to close out such a high profile case, he would have gladly left it to JT and Dani. Hell, his detectives offered to handle it while he snuck back out, but all three of them knew there were too many eyes on them to get away with that.
Every cell in his body wants — no, needs — to be back at the loft with his mate. Malcolm was in the very beginning stages of his heat when Gil got the call. His scent was starting to thicken, to curl and call out for his alpha. Fertile fertile fertile, it whispered. Breed, breed, breed. Malcolm didn’t hinder the effects at all, either. He stuck as close to Gil as he could, following his instincts and marking his alpha with the scent of his claim. He ate small snacks in preparation of the hours of fucking and knotting, rinse repeat, between lulls.
He assured Gil over and over that, yes, he’s certain. Yes, he’s thought about it thoroughly.
Yes, he wants to carry their child.
And then Gil had to leave. He parks his car out on the street, and it’s only the years of work and love he’s put into his cars that stops him from slamming the door shut. His entire body is taut with anticipation. He glances up at the window to their bedroom and stalks forward.
He opens the door to the first floor. He nearly drops his keys.
Malcolm’s scent permeates the entire lower level despite it being nothing but space and stairs. It’s thick and sweet and warm and everywhere. He smells like both home and potential. There’s an edge to it, too. A need.
Gil only belatedly realizes the low rumble is coming from his own chest. His pants are achingly tight, his knot already swelling. This is the scent of his mate, and, if they’re lucky, that potential will grow into something more once this heat is up. He fumbles with the keys to lock the door behind him. It takes everything he has to not take the steps two or three or four at a time. He grips the railing with white knuckles and practically pulls himself up one by one.
The scent is thicker by the door. There’s a high chance Malcolm spent some time pacing by it, hoping and wishing Gil would be home soon. Hopefully he didn’t wait too long to pull out his toys.
Gil rests his forehead against the wood and tries to catch his breath.
A frustrated moan drifts through the wall.
Gil’s eyes snap open.
There’s another, louder yet. A call of his name filled with desperation and anguish and the cloying lust of heat. “Please,” Malcolm groans.
That’s all Gil can take. He jams his key into the lock and rips the door open, his jaw dropping and a low moan slipping from him as he’s hit with the full force of his mate’s longing. His feet take him over to the bed in a daze.
Writhing in the sheets, one hand on his weeping cock, the other thrusting a knotting dildo in and out of his hole frantically, is Malcolm. His hair is a wild mess. Part of it is plastered down with his sweat, the rest fanned out on the bed above him. His cheeks are flushed. His lower lip is swollen from biting down on it. His brows are furrowed in dissatisfaction.
His dick throbs. The sheets underneath him are drenched with slick and come.
Gil yanks his sweater over his head.
The movement must send a fresh wave of his scent across the room, because Malcolm sobs, his eyes snapping over to catch his mate’s. “Gil,” he pants. His hands are still working. “You’re home.”
“Looks like you’ve been good for me. Like you’ve been taking care of yourself while I’ve been gone,” Gil says, voice low. He keeps his eyes on Malcolm as he strips out of his slacks and boxers. His cock bobs free. It’s already thick and ready, and he wraps a hand around the swelling knot to keep himself from shooting off right then and there at the way his mate shivers from the praise. “I’m proud of you, kid.”
Malcolm keens. “It’s not enough,” he says as he catches his breath. “I need you, Gil. Need you to fill me up.”
“I know,” Gil murmurs. They both knew the toys wouldn’t be enough after they mated. Malcolm’s body craves his knot, and nothing else would do now. He slots himself between his mate’s legs with an ease born of several shared heats. Gently, he brushes Malcolm’s hands aside and tugs the dildo from his grasping hole.
It’s the biggest one in the toybox.
It still wasn’t enough.
Gil should fuck into him and take the edge off. Should. He hikes Malcolm’s legs over his shoulders instead. He buries his face in the omega’s cheeks, tongue unerringly finding his slick, sloppy hole. When Malcolm spasms, Gil holds him secure. He laps at where that sweet, fertile scent is the strongest. The slick that coats his mouth is addictive, and he groans and spears his tongue in again and again.
“Gil, I —” Malcolm squirms in his grip. His voice is breathless, on edge. “Please.”
Slipping three fingers in beside his tongue, Gil picks up his pace.
He’s rewarded with a yelp and the smell of fresh come as Malcolm shakes and gasps.
“That’s it,” Gil says soothingly. His fingers are still thrusting slow and steady, aftershocks zinging up his mate’s spine. The last bit of frustration in his frame is slipping away, and Gil loves to see it. He wants him as limp and pliant as he can get him. He kisses a trembling thigh. “So good for me. I’ve got you.”
Malcolm looks up at him, dazed and loving.
Gil licks his lips to chase the taste of him. The rest is drying in his goatee. “Are you ready for more?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Taking his fingers out, Gil sucks them clean of slick and enjoys every second of it. He gently lays Malcolm’s legs back down to the bed. He kisses his right calf, then the left. The thighs come next, getting a couple of soft kisses each. Although he avoids his still hard cock, Gil’s mouth finds the sensitive skin next to it. He makes a trail up his hips to his chest and then his neck. He takes his time there, sucking a bruise right over the healed indentation of his teeth, his hands finding Malcolm’s pecs, his fingers teasing both nipples.
Malcolm clutches at him. “This better not be a dream,” he says with a breathy laugh. He wraps a weak leg around Gil’s hip, which brings their groins even closer together. His length rubs against his mate’s stomach. Gil is thick along the curve of his cheeks.
“It’s real,” Gil rumbles as he lays kisses along his jaw. He grinds his hips down. “Feel that? It’s all for you, kid.” Reaching between them, he rubs the tip through the trail of slick, teasing them both with the glide. It barely takes a nudge for him to slip in.
They both groan. For all that they’ve done this a million times before, Malcolm is still achingly tight and Gil wonderfully large.
“Love the way you feel,” Gil grunts. He grips Malcolm’s leg and soothes it with an idle thumb. “You take me so well.”
Of course, that makes his mate melt.
So Gil keeps going. “I thought about this all day. Thought about being buried in your tight hole, breeding you up like you asked.”
Malcolm clenches down around him as a spark of pleasure runs through him at his words. “God, Gil.”
“You’re my perfect little omega, city boy,” he says across his ear. “Hot, tight, and a beautiful mind.” He bites down lightly on his cartilage.
The way Malcolm claws at his back in response is surely drawing blood. He often does, when he’s really being praised. There’s something about it that makes everything so much more intense for the omega.
And Gil loves to oblige him. He bottoms out, his balls heavy against Malcolm’s cheeks. “I can’t wait to see you swollen with our baby.” Their lips meet in a bruising kiss. He wants Malcolm to feel just how much he means those words, and Malcolm himself is putting so much desperate energy into it. A hand threads up through his hair, holding him close, prolonging the kiss. Not that he plans on pulling away anytime soon. Gil is quickly descending into his rut.
It’s a miracle he managed to hold it off this long.
Malcolm gasps into his mouth at the first thrust and wraps his other leg around Gil’s hip, too. He clutches at him. He lets his alpha fuck into him with quick, urgent snaps, his thickening knot squelching in the copious slick with each rapid movement. His own cock rubs against Gil’s stomach with how they’re pressed together, and it’s smearing precome all over tanned skin.
“So good for me,” Gil says as he comes up for air. “Fuck, Malcolm.” His knot is swelling fast, having already been noticeable before, the hot clench of his mate not helping at all. “You want my knot, kid?”
“Yes,” Malcolm sobs. “Please, Gil.”
Gil readjusts his grip on his legs and batters him with his hips, filling the loft with the loud clap of their bodies. “Feels so good,” he grunts out again. “Shit.” His knot pops into place with a force that rips a wail out of his mate.
Tears, too. They stream down the sides of Malcolm’s face as he tries to catch his breath. His cock is jerking between them, painting their stomachs with his spend, and his legs are dead weight in Gil’s hands.
Gil noses at his mating bite. Kisses it. He can feel the way Malcolm’s body is milking him and knows they’ll be stuck like this for a long time. He gives himself a lazy minute of caressing his mate’s legs. Then, gently, he gathers him up and rolls the two of them over so that Malcolm can sprawl across his chest.
The soft sigh he gets is evidence it’s appreciated.
Gil holds him close. He runs a soothing hand over his thigh, his hip, his back. He angles his head up for a kiss. “I love you,” he says, if only to see the dopey way Malcolm lights up. It puts a grin on his own face. “I’m sorry I was late.”
“Not your fault,” Malcolm murmurs. “Love you, too.”
Still. Reaching over, Gil grabs a water bottle from the nightstand and cracks it open. He takes a swig, not caring of the small stream that leaks down the side of his mouth and to the pillows, and helps his mate take small sips, too. “How are you feeling?” He’s still touching him, still moving his hands slowly, making sure Malcolm feels loved.
Malcolm hums against him. “Better now.” He shifts his hips and moans. “You solved it?”
Of course he wants to know about the case now. Gil’s eyes crinkle as he smiles wryly. “Yup. Got him to confess, too. JT and Dani should have finished the paperwork by now.” One of his hands drifts down to grope the curve of his mate’s ass, to dip lower and trace where they’re connected. He can feel the little throbs as he continues to fill Malcolm up.
To breed him.
Gil’s hips twitch, and he groans. “Why don’t you tell me how your day was,” he says roughly. “Tell me how many times you fucked yourself with your toy. Tell me how good you were for me.”
Malcolm kisses him sloppily. “I imagined it was you every single time, but it was never enough…”