There was something to be grateful for every day, Liam reminded himself as he rose up from where he sat and walked over to his dresser to pull out a white tank top to throw over his torso. He pulled his beat up denim jeans, tied the laces of his boots in place, and then walked on out of his room, and out of his home. At least you’re no longer back there.
Maybe a nice walk would clear his head. And even though he didn’t think about walking to anywhere in particular, Liam was drawn to the scent of fresh cinnamon swirls and freshly roasted coffee just a few houses away.
Honeybun’s was truly a gift to all in Hidden Lake.
From where he sat, Liam could smell the delicious breakfast pastries already being prepared. The early risers of the day have already probably stopped by to get their cups of coffee. Honeybun’s was an institution of Hidden Lake, made all the more special by the fact that its owner and proprietress, Honey Bentham, was a trained pastry chef before she was drawn back to the pack.
The spicy sweetness in the air made Liam beam with contentment. There were few things in the world that could bring a smile to Liam’s face. The feeling of grass and earth underneath his wolf’s footpads was one, but so was feeling the briskness of the breeze against his skin when he rushed through the forests. The silence that walking through nature brought was a good one, as well, but nothing beat the smell of freshly made coffee during a nice, cool autumn morning.
As he stepped into the familiar, cozy entrance of Honeybun’s, he looked around for a little window-side table. The bakery’s owner, Honey, was right in front, with a big smile on her face as she adjusted the banana clip in her long, black hair.
The plump, middle-aged woman was always chipper and joyful, even in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed as though she was tireless, a perpetual motion machine constantly tapping away at her register. If she wasn’t there, she was in the kitchen, making up fresh batches of her famous cinnamon swirls. Her business was her life, and you wouldn’t think she was stressed at all, doing what she did. Honey was the type of person who would say, “well, ‘stressed’ is just ‘desserts’ spelled backward!”
“Hey there, Honey,” Liam grumbled in greeting in his usual, deep baritone. Honey’s rouged lips spread into a wide, happy grin.
“Well, hello there handsome!” Honey said. “You know my morning isn’t made unless you come into the doors. Will it be the usual today?”
Liam chuckled. Honey Bentham was such a nice woman. She was a good friend who respected boundaries. Even so, she was warm, kind, and Liam thought she was just perfect as the owner of her little bakery in Hidden Lake. He couldn’t see anyone else doing her job as perfectly as she did.
“Yeah. But I’m also hankering for something kind of new and sweet, but not too sweet,” Liam explained.
“Oh? Not just the usual coffee and cinnamon bun today, then, sugar? What else will it be?” Honey tilted her head in question.
“I don’t know. Is there anything new on the menu?”
“As a matter of fact, yes! My godson came to live with us here just recently, and he’s helping out by making us something he learned in pastry school,” Honey said, clapping her hands together in excitement. “It’s been a popular treat among the late breakfast crowd. It’s a nice, little basket of plain, lightly sugar-coated churros, but with a dark chocolate dipping sauce he made himself. I think you’d like it. They must have some fancy name for it in pastry school that I can’t pronounce, but I don’t really want a headache trying to properly say something French that I might just bastardize, so we just call ’em churros here. You don’t like things that are too sweet, right?” Honey did her best little flourish with her hands, making a sassy little finger waggle with one hand as she gestured to Liam, causing him to grin.
“Yeah, I’m just trying something new. That sounds pretty good actually,” Liam replied, nodding his head. “One of those things, too.”
“A nice big batch of crispy fried churros coming right up for you,” Honey said, dinging the bell on her countertop. She turned around and opened the door to her kitchen, hollering inside. “Wyatt, dear, are you just about done with that batch?”
“Yup! Almost done. I’ll get some out for you in a sec!” a voice from the kitchen hollered. Liam perked up visibly when he turned, trying to find the source of the voice.
With lightly tousled light brown hair, and a face that seemed to be perfectly chiseled by master sculptors, Liam had to suppress the arousal he felt at seeing the man peek out of the doors. The younger man had bright, icy blue eyes that met his own and he was electrified in that single moment. But in contrast to his colossal figure, the man before him was much smaller than he was and much less rugged. In fact, the best way to describe the man before him was slender and cat-like, with a compact musculature. He took one deep breath, and Liam knew he wasn’t facing a wolf shifter, like himself.
There was something less visceral and more sophisticated—more complex, even—in the way the man smelled. There were soft tones of masculinity underneath something heady and floral. It was like the man before him smelled like lust in its purest form. His wolf howled in approval, clawing at him and pushing him to reach forward and take what was his.
Fuck, Liam thought to himself. Why find his mate now, of all times? Hell, he could’ve gone through life without finding him at all!
“Don’t take too long,” he heard Wyatt holler. It only coaxed Liam to move a little bit faster. Was he actually excited? Liam grinned to himself. This was a nice feeling.
As soon as he entered the bathroom—well, he barely entered, just leaned in from the doorway and was already on the way out the door—Liam grabbed the baby oil off the rack near the sink and sauntered back, determined and fixated. There was only Wyatt, there was only now, and there was only the two of them.
Wyatt was shaking. Was he nervous? Liam sauntered over until he was laying against his mate once more, bracing his weight against the couch instead of pinning Wyatt down to the cushions.
He braced the tip of his arousal against Wyatt’s pucker, making the smaller male gasp.
“Don’t worry,” Liam said, as he raised the bottle of baby oil. “We have this. It might be a bitch to clean out later, though.”
“It’s okay,” Wyatt replied. “Just… I’m really excited.”
“So am I.”
Liam couldn’t find any other word to properly express the excitement he felt. Without caring about how much of a mess he was making, he slathered a large amount of the oil on his cock and over Wyatt’s perineum, letting the slick liquid drip down to that perfect, pink little hole that made Liam smirk just at the sight of it.
Then he pressed a slicked finger against the puckered entrance.
“Breathe in,” Liam said. His voice was more like a command than a suggestion, but he couldn’t help it. Wyatt was so…
There definitely weren’t any words.
As soon as Wyatt followed and took a deep breath, Liam plunged a single finger in. He was slow, deliberate, and definitely took his time. One, and then two, making gentle, scissoring motions all while pressing his digits forward and back, mimicking how he would do it once it was his hips braced against Wyatt’s. His other hand wrapped around his slick cock, pumping it up and down as lazily as he was preparing his mate’s body.
Wyatt let out a little cry. His body quaked and his eyebrows furrowed when Liam pushed his fingers in and angled it a certain way. “That felt good,” he admitted.
Liam grinned. “Good to know.”
He made sure to move his fingers in different angles, never hitting the same place twice and trying to find where Wyatt was most sensitive. Three digits, and then four, were now pressing into Wyatt’s body when Liam stopped mid-thrust and looked up into his mate’s eyes.
“Are you ready? Take another deep breath for me,” Liam said, finally pulling away and pressing his erection against the small cleft of his mate’s rear.
“This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy,” Wyatt said, the corners of his lips quirking upward into a smile. “But this is my first time with my mate. So… be gentle. I want to remember this.”
Liam growled from the combination of heated arousal, jealousy, and pleasure that he felt. He didn’t like the idea of not being the first Wyatt ever had, but this struck him as odd as well. He wasn’t usually the type to like virgins. Experience was necessary considering how large he was. Nevertheless, that didn’t matter to him. Not at this moment, anyway. Wyatt was splayed out on his couch, looking hotter than he ever had in the brief time they knew each other. Liam said nothing more than that, intent simply on connecting their bodies together in the only way he knew how.
Wyatt wasn’t going to have anyone else. It was only him from now on.
The thought was as unsettling as it was incredibly hot.
Slowly, Liam pushed his hips inward. Wyatt took a deep breath, and he looked like he was trying to relax. It was difficult for Liam to concentrate at what he was doing. Every little movement, every little reaction from Wyatt made sex feel new and exciting. Liam’s heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, and it thundered even more so when he looked at his mate.
“Good, good,” Liam cooed, as he pressed his hips forward even more firmly. It took a little while, but he finally slid himself all the way inside with a light, wet squelch.
Suddenly, it felt like the weight of the world was pulled off his shoulders. All that, but it was only the tip of his cock that was safely inside of Wyatt’s rear.
God, did it feel hot, but Liam wanted more. It felt like an inferno blanketing his dick, and felt even better than any man or woman Liam had in the past.
This was… different. It was special. It transcended any label Liam could put on it.
Wyatt hissed. His toes curled and his body tensed. It seems like Wyatt’s hole clenched into an almost vise grip, making Liam gasp and then chuckle softly at the waves of pleasure that coursed through his body. Liam leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his mate’s neck. “Just relax,” he whispered. Wyatt looked up at Liam with desire clear in the depths of his eyes. “If you keep clenching like that, I can’t make this good for the both of us.”
That almost begging, needy look that Wyatt offered him at that very moment just served to spur his inner wolf on. Mate. Mine. Claim. The words echoed in a primal way, resonating through his entire body.
But he couldn’t just rut into Wyatt and claim him. No, he needed to make his vampire mate feel good, too. Claiming someone wasn’t a selfish act, he had to remind himself. Liam knew he needed to exert some control over his baser urges.