I woke up slowly, to the sound of a light rain pattering against the windowpanes. My room was as dim and gray as the weather outside, and yet there was a coziness about being wrapped up in blankets with my lover snoring softly beside me. I smiled. Sunday mornings were lazy mornings, anyway. I might as well enjoy it.

I folded my arm beneath my head, propping myself up a little, and I gazed down at Chance. Lost in slumber, he looked so peaceful. There was no trace of the worry lines that seemed permanently etched into his forehead, no sad downward tilt to those full pink lips. In sleep, he looked young and innocent and beautiful.

He was so damn beautiful. With the sheets pooled down around his waist, his torso was bared to me. I studied the silvery scars that marred his skin, from the claw marks raked possessively over both hips, to the gashes that had once flayed open his chest. I traced each and every one of them with my eyes, not daring to touch. Not wanting to wake him.

He was the mirror image of Charlie—except he wasn’t. Chance’s cheekbones were sharper, the hollows beneath them deeper. His nose tilted to the left, ever so slightly, like it’d been broken time and time again under the fist of a cruel Alpha. And at the very center of his upper lip, a crescent-shaped scar was carved from his skin.

He was gorgeous, scars and all. How could he not see that? Emotion swelled within me like a tidal wave and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to keep this man safe. How did I get so lucky—and on the day of Charlie’s death? It was too much of coincidence, and maybe that’s why I didn’t feel guilty taking Chance to my bed. I didn’t feel like I was cheating on Charlie with his brother.

Instead, it felt like a little bit like destiny.

It felt like maybe Charlie sent him to me.

Rolling closer, I buried my face in Chance’s thick russet hair and breathed him in. I loved the scent of this man, sweet and nutty, like honey-roasted almonds…and yet, there was something different this time. I sniffed at his hair, then trailed my nose down the nape of his neck and licked across his skin.

He tasted richer. Sweeter, much sweeter than before, and it made my pulse jump. No way… Was that even possible? Charlie had smelled sweet and fresh when he’d finally become pregnant. We’d spent several heats trying for a baby and he’d gotten so upset, worried that maybe the odds were against us. He’d wanted to be a father so badly.

But it’d taken us months. How could a single heat with a fox that wasn’t my mate conceive so easily? Did I even care? All I knew was that my wolf was growling at the idea of a possibly-pregnant Chance walking away from this. From us. Because there was definitely an us.

Chance stirred with a breathy moan. I looped an arm around his waist and drew him flush, then kissed the back of his neck. Nuzzling my face just behind his ear, I breathed him in again and again, then let out a sigh of my own. “You smell good,” I murmured against his warm skin.

The fox reached back to touch me, his fingers skirting along my jaw. It was as if he was reassuring himself that I was really there. When he made contact, he made a pleased sound at the back of his throat. I grinned.

He stretched, his lithe body twisting beneath the sheets. He rubbed his ass back against me in a way that made his back dip. I bit down on my lip. He knew exactly what he was doing and I loved him for it. Growing bolder by the day. “What do I smell like?” he mused aloud.

I scraped my teeth over the shell of his ear and growled. “Mine,” I uttered, biting down gently. “You smell like mine.”

“God, I love it when you say that.” Chance groaned, then shifted to face me. His cheeks were flushed pink, but the desire in his eyes was crystal clear. His smile was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen and I wanted a piece of it. Cradling his face in my hand, I pressed my lips to his. He breathed out a soft sigh. “Hux…”

“Shh,” I said against his lips before trailing my tongue over the seam there. His mouth parted then, and he flicked the very tip of his tongue against mine. It was an invitation if I’d ever tasted one—and I’d tasted plenty. With a moan all my own, I rolled over the top of him and caged his body beneath mine. Chance whined and grabbed at my shoulders, one arm thrown around my neck to drag me closer. I bit his lip, rolling it between my teeth. “Mine, remember?”

“Yesssss.” And fuck, if he didn’t taste as sweet as he smelled. I crushed my mouth to his. I licked my way inside with gentle strokes, but he kissed with a reckless abandon, like he wanted nothing more than this. His fingers knotted in my hair, as if he was the one in control, and maybe he was, because all I wanted was to make him happy. Our bodies rubbed together with little more than a cotton sheet between us, and he arched into each little touch.

With each kiss, each nip, each suckling drag of flesh, the fire between us burned hotter. I was hard as a spike, rutting myself against his abdomen until he was practically writhing beneath me. Begging me without words. I didn’t need words. I broke away first, gasping in a breath of air, then worked my way down his body.

“Mine.”

I sucked at his skin, drawing blood to the surface of his pale flesh to form small violet bruises. My teeth skimmed over a nipple and an almost broken sound burst from Chance’s throat. I covered the little nub with my mouth and let my tongue dance around it in tantalizingly slow circles. His whimpers crested higher, pitching with each drag of my lips.

By the time I reached his cock, he was stiff and leaking. I licked the clear droplets off his belly, then caressed his cockhead with my lips and tongue. “Fuck! Hux!” He all but howled when I swallowed him down to the root, his hips bucking up to drive deeper into my throat. I squeezed over his thigh with a moan and began to blow him with no other intent but to get him off.

This was all about him.

“Hux, oh fuck, fuck! I need—Oh, I need you!” The wet heat of my mouth reduced the Omega to a writhing, babbling lover. I knew what he needed, too. I circled his damp, puckered hole with the very tip of my middle finger and his whimpering moan was music to my ears. I dipped it past the ring of muscles and began to massage his prostate. The fox went wild.

Chance’s thighs shook on either side of my head, his breath coming fast and sharp. I growled around him, sucking the pleasure from the depths of his balls until he cracked. His body jerked beneath me and with a quailing cry, the first salty spurt of cum hit my tongue. Fuck, yes. God, he tasted like heaven.

Spent, he lay flat on his back, his chest heaving while he came down from his climax-induced euphoria. Licking my lips, I grabbed myself and began to jerk off between his legs. I was so hard that it physically hurt, but I wanted—needed—Chance to know that I wasn’t here to only take from him. I wanted to give him pleasure and happiness in spades and when our eyes met, I think maybe he knew.

“Fuck. Gonna cum all over you. Make you mine,” I growled out, twisting my wrist on each quickening upstroke. I could feel my orgasm building, rioting against the dam walls. My balls tightened and I drove myself closer to that edge. Chance gazed up at me, his lower lip pinched between his teeth. I looked deep into his hazel eyes. “You want it?”

“Fucking do it,” he hissed. “I want your cum. Mark me.”

With a grunt of release, I shattered. I coated his soft cock and stomach in thick ropes of cum, drenching him with the scent of me. Marking him as mine so that the whole world would know. So that Bones would know, if he dared show his ugly mug around here.

Mine. Mine. Mine. My wolf howled.

“Huxley.” Chance reached for me. I met him halfway, capturing his mouth in sweet kisses, not caring about the sticky mess I’d made of us both. All that mattered in that moment was us. He groaned low, then laughed. “We just changed the sheets.”

I huffed in mock-annoyance. “Sheets’ll wash and so will we.”

His grin lit up my world.