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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months ago

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Pairing: omc x omc Rating: Explicit Tags: oral sex (m! receiving)

Chapter 1: "Talk me into it"

The mornings were growing colder.

Lucas’ boots collected dew and pieces of wet grass as he traversed the short distance from the chicken coop back to the cabin, his breath visible on the crisp morning air. He came in through the laundry room, kicking off his boots and rolling his eyes at the mess of muddy pawprints Verne had left behind on the room's vinyl flooring from his run the night before.

He hung up his coat and went into the house, carrying the wire egg basket into the kitchen. Today the basket was full. The chickens were still producing near their peak. But there would be fewer and fewer eggs as the colder months set in, and out here in the mountains, fall could bleed into winter in the blink of an eye. Come November, they’d be lucky if they got a half dozen eggs every other day.

That wouldn’t be a problem for most people, but most people didn’t eat the way that Lucas and his husband ate. They had to produce the majority of what they consumed, because living out in the middle of nowhere like they did meant that spur of the moment trips to the store weren't an option. Supply runs needed to be planned out and executed with military precision. Good thing Lucas had married a soldier.

Verne was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a plate heaped high with toast and eggs and some of the sausage they’d pulled from the freezer. The cabin smelled heavenly of cooked meats, and Lucas felt his stomach rumble in anticipation. "Mornin'," he hummed, bending to kiss the top of Verne's head as he stole a sausage link off the plate. He bit down and groaned at the pop of skin and rich burst of flavor over his tongue. “Oof. Now that's tasty.”

Verne grunted and swallowed around his mouthful. "Got me this prettyboy husband, kinda knows how to cook."

Lucas snickered as he went to set the eggs by the sink. "Anybody I know?" He'd taught himself how to make linked sausages two springs ago. They always kept at least one of their goats dairy, but the rest were for eating, as were the pigs. Lucas was the one in charge of turning the animals they raised into the meat they ate, because even though Verne would never admit to it, his big squishy heart just couldn’t handle the slaughtering process.

The big lug wouldn’t hesitate to hunt down a deer in the forest and mercilessly rip out its throat, but give him a little barnyard piglet to slaughter and he'd suddenly start reconsidering the importance of bacon. It was equal parts ridiculous and endearing to Lucas, who knew that deep down his mate was a big old softie. He was just covered with an outer shell so thick, he might as well be calcified.

Verne was a hulking six-foot-two, two-hundred-twenty pound alpha werewolf. He was what Lucas liked to call "stupid big," which meant he was intimidating. The gnarly scars that slashed from cheek to hairline on one side of his face added to the effect. If people who met him weren't already cowed by his sheer size or his surly attitude, then the scars usually sealed the deal and guaranteed him a wide berth in public spaces—which was certainly Verne's preference. He hated going into town and only did so when absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, such a time had arrived, and he'd have to eased into the idea.

Lucas returned to stand behind Verne's seated form and began playing idly with the short crop of his hair. “I think I’m gonna try water glassing eggs,” he mused.

Verne grunted. “What the hell’s that?”

“It’s supposed to keep them fresh for up to a year. You just put them on a shelf, no refrigeration needed.”

“That sounds made up.”

“No, it’s a thing. There’s a whole chapter about it in my canning book. I’ll need lime to do it, though.” Lucas rubbed coaxingly behind Verne’s ear with his thumb. “Do you ... think they’d have that in town?”

Verne ignored him.

“We need a bunch more of the Mason jars, too,” he said. The root cellar was nearing its capacity with everything they'd harvested. “A lot of preserving to get through, these next few weeks.”

Verne stubbornly didn’t answer until he’d chewed through another huge forkful of his breakfast. “What makes you think I’m doing the next run? It’s your turn.”

Lucas bent down to nip at his ear, then squeezed his neck in mock dominance. He enjoyed the warning growl he got for his efforts. “Oh, I don’t know,” he purred. “I bet I can come up with a way to talk you into it.” He rubbed the inside of his wrist against Verne’s jaw, scenting him.

Abruptly, Verne pushed his chair back from the table, but he didn’t stand. He turned the chair with a long-suffering sigh and let his arms hang loose by his sides. Very pointedly, he spread his legs wider. “C’mere, then,” he said lowly. “Come ‘talk me into it’.”

Lucas’ pulse picked up, just like it always did when Verne bossed him around. He felt a familiar heat bloom low in his belly at his husband’s words, his tone, his arrogant stare, and most especially at the sight of Verne’s huge legs spread wide and presumptive, straining against the worn-thin flannel of his pajama bottoms. Verne sat there watching, looking smug and amused, but the dark gleam in his eye and the growing bulge between his legs betrayed his interest as he waited to see what his mate would do. Lucas licked his lips and sank to his knees right there on the kitchen floor. He rubbed up and down the tops of Verne's legs, then slid his hands inwards to squeeze at the massive muscle of his inner thighs, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the flannel. When Lucas peeked up at him, Verne was watching with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Go on,” he prodded, voice already slipped down to that lower register that made Lucas’ cock thicken in his own pants. "Take me out."

Lucas hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled, and Verne lifted his hips up just enough to be helpful. The pajamas got pushed down and kicked away, and Lucas’ attention zeroed in on his husband’s gorgeous, half-hard cock. He wrapped his hand around it and played idly, giving a few soft squeezes and strokes, thumbing the foreskin over the head as Verne grew harder. Lucas was a big guy himself and nothing to scoff at, but Verne was bigger than him in every way, including this. Cupping his heavy balls took up Lucas’ entire palm. He rolled them in one hand while he stroked his cock with the other, and eventually Verne lost his patience and started thrusting his hips up into it.

“Gotta say, Babe,” he sighed. “I’m not feeling very 'talked into' anything just yet.”

Lucas looked up, locking eyes with him in a purposeful gesture of dominance.

And Verne, of course, didn’t tolerate it. He grabbed him by the hair, giving a firm scruff. "Mind yourself, boy," he growled, though there was also a sly grin pulling at the edges of his mouth as he said it. He scruffed him again for good measure, making Lucas moan and his cock jerk hard at the show of aggression. As an alpha himself, Lucas was supposed to be wired to hate being dominated by anyone. And usually he did. But with Verne it was different. With Verne, his wires were crossed. Always had been, always would be.

He opened his mouth wide and sank down, taking Verne’s cock inside. It was just as much of a struggle as it always was, an all-consuming invasion of the senses that Lucas relished. He sucked on the head, tasting and teasing with his tongue, stroking the shaft with one hand and massaging the soft weight of his sac in the other.

Verne exhaled shakily from above, both of his hands coming to rest on the crown of Lucas’ head as his hips flexed upwards. “Fuck,” he sighed, pushing a little more forcefully. “Yeah, baby. That’s it. Take a little more."

Lucas did, allowing Verne to push him down until his cock hit the back of his throat. He choked for a second, drool leaking steadily from his mouth and making a mess in the thatch of dark hair at the base of Verne’s cock. Verne growled in satisfaction, his pelvis flexing up again and again, softly fucking Lucas’ face. “That’s it,” he kept muttering. “What a good fuckin’ boy. Fuck, Honey.”

Lucas let himself be spurred on by the deep rumbles and filthy strings of words that his husband threw down at him. He gave into the feeling of being used, those huge hands and flexing hips, the fat head of Verne’s cock bumping against the back of his soft palate every few thrusts. He rubbed Verne’s balls and massaged his half-blown knot, giving as much as he could until it became too intense. He whined, and Verne let him up for air, guiding him to lay his cheek against his thigh while Verne took over with stroking himself off.

“God, you’re pretty,” he husked as he jacked off hard and fast, fingers slipping over the head in a way that made Lucas want to get his mouth right back on him. But Verne held him down when he tried. “Uh-uh, Honey,” he said. “Jus’ hold still for Alpha. Lemme see that mouth.” He was staring down at Lucas’ face, eyes zeroed in on his wet and swollen lips. He used his free hand to thumb at Lucas’ bottom lip, making him smile. “Open,” Verne commanded, breathing heavier as he got close. Lucas did as ordered and parted his lips, presenting the flat of his tongue. Verne groaned and grabbed his hair again, using it to pull him in closer so he could jack off right in front of his mouth. Verne's cockhead and that one, worrying knuckle kept bumping Lucas' tongue. “Shit, Honey,” he gasped. “Oh, fuckyeah. Keep it open.”

Lucas did, and he watched as Verne’s brow pinched and his jaw slackened in pleasure. Seconds later he came, his knot swelling and spurts of hot cum landing all over Lucas’ tongue and lips and chin. He smiled and let his eyes slip closed. It lasted a long time, Verne’s balls jerking and emptying everything they had onto Lucas’ face. Lucas waited it out with one hand massaging Verne’s knot to milk it all out of him, and the other down between his own legs to try and provide some sort of relief.

When Verne was finished, he exhaled hugely and abandoned his cock to cup Lucas’ face. He smiled fondly down at him, not missing how his mate was already touching himself while he knelt there on the floor. Lucas turned his head and kissed his Alpha’s palm, then rubbed his cum-smeared face against the glands at Verne’s inner wrist, right where his registration tattoo was. He could feel the shudder that went through Verne’s body at such a submissive gesture. Lucas peeked up and smiled at him. “So?” he said. “Did I talk you into it?”

Verne laughed and shook his head, but he also reached down to haul Lucas up from the floor and make him stand in front of him. He started undoing Lucas' fly, intentions clear. “You always do,” he muttered wryly. Then he pulled Lucas’ dick out and paid him back in kind.

Thanks for reading! Until the Snow Melts will be available for purchase on Amazon Fall 2024 - L.T. Swann

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