10 Dates with Mr. Alpha (MXM)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five
The Third Date (Part II): Closer Than Skin
———

Kiel didn't invite Ronan over.

Not officially.

But when he heard the knock on his window at midnight, he didn't hesitate to open it. The scent hit him first—warm, musky, pure Ronan—and then the sight of him, crouched on the sill like a wolf who knew the door would never be an option.

"You know this is stupid," Kiel said, voice low.

Ronan climbed in without asking. "I know you can't stop thinking about it either."

Kiel shut the window behind him, but the tension in the room only thickened. His small bedroom suddenly felt too tight. The moonlight spilled across his sheets. The air was cool, but his skin was already warming, prickling.

"You smell like you missed me," Ronan said.

Kiel scoffed. "I smell like I've been trying to forget you."

"Didn't work."

No, it didn't.

Because the second their eyes locked, the bond pulled taut between them again—shimmering, silent, heavy with unspoken need. Their wolves were closer to the surface now, snarling just beneath their skin.

Ronan stepped forward, slowly.

Kiel didn't move away.

Not even when Ronan reached out and ran his thumb along the hollow of Kiel's throat. "You keep letting me in."

"You keep showing up."

Their breaths mingled.

Then Ronan kissed him.

There was no teasing this time. No fire-for-fire sparring. This was deep and slow and devastating. It curled around Kiel's chest and sunk its claws in. His knees almost gave out. The kiss tasted like regret, like want, like something that had been starving for days and finally allowed to eat.

He gripped Ronan's shirt tightly, pulling him close, needing more. Ronan slid his hands under Kiel's shirt, fingertips trailing fire over taut muscle. He pulled it off in one smooth motion, then stared.

"You're shaking," Ronan murmured, eyes raking over him.

"Shut up."

But Kiel was shaking. Because this wasn't just lust anymore. Something about tonight felt different. Ronan was closer. Softer, somehow. Like he wasn't here to fuck—he was here to see him.

"Bed," Ronan whispered.

Kiel let himself be led.

They landed on the mattress in a tangle of limbs and mouths. Ronan climbed over him, straddling his hips. Their lips met again, slower this time, exploring. Ronan kissed along Kiel's jaw, down his neck, biting gently. Not hard enough to mark—but close.

Kiel arched under him, gasping. "You're going soft on me."

Ronan pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. "You want rough?"

Kiel stared at him.

Paused.

Then: "I want real."

It was a whisper, barely a breath. But it made Ronan still completely.

Then he nodded, once, and leaned down again. "Then I'll give you everything."

Clothes vanished between kisses and touches. Ronan was bigger, broader, heavier, and Kiel relished the way it felt to be pinned. To be wanted. Worshipped.

Ronan licked a trail down his chest, pausing to suck on a nipple until Kiel gasped, fisting the sheets.

"You always act like you're in control," Ronan said, voice low. "But look at you now. Spreading your legs like you need me."

"I don't need—"

Ronan pressed a kiss to his stomach, then lower. "Say it."

"No."

Ronan smirked, then gripped Kiel's thighs and pushed them open wider.

Kiel's cock twitched, hard and flushed, dripping against his stomach.

"You're beautiful like this," Ronan whispered, voice reverent. "Raw. Honest."

"Shut up and touch me."

Ronan complied.

He spat into his hand and slicked his fingers, easing one inside slowly. Kiel groaned, head dropping back. Ronan kissed his inner thigh while he worked another finger in, scissoring gently, patient even as Kiel bucked against him.

"You take me so well," he murmured.

"Less talk, more—fuck—more."

Ronan bit him lightly, right on the hip bone. "Still a brat."

Kiel didn't answer. He couldn't. His body was already clenching down, hungry, greedy. When Ronan finally lined himself up and pushed in, Kiel gasped so sharply his whole body jerked.

It burned. It stretched. It fit.

Ronan groaned, burying himself to the hilt. "Fuck. You're perfect."

They stayed like that for a moment—pressed close, panting, trembling. The silence was sacred.

Then Kiel whispered, "Move."

And Ronan did.

Slow at first, rolling his hips until Kiel was clawing at his back, moaning into his shoulder. The friction was maddening. Their sweat mixed. Their wolves howled. The bond buzzed with each thrust, each shared breath.

"Ronan—"

"Yeah?"

"I hate how good this feels."

Ronan laughed, breathless. "I know."

He shifted the angle, hitting Kiel's sweet spot just right—and the moan that ripped from Kiel's throat was obscene.

"Right there," he begged. "Fuck—don't stop."

Ronan didn't.

He pounded into him, fast and deep, one hand on Kiel's cock, stroking him in time. Kiel's vision blurred, the pleasure too much. He was unraveling, body trembling, voice breaking.

And then—he came, hard, all over Ronan's stomach, the sheets, his own chest. His orgasm crashed through him like lightning, tearing through every nerve.

Ronan followed seconds later, biting down on Kiel's shoulder as he came inside him, knot swelling.

They both collapsed, tangled and breathless.

The room was quiet.

Kiel's body hummed. Every inch of him ached. But it wasn't bad. It was grounding. Centering. Right.

That's what scared him.

He turned his head slowly to look at Ronan. "That was different."

Ronan nodded, eyes closed. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Ronan opened his eyes and looked at him. "Because we didn't fight it this time."

Kiel looked away.

"Was it too much?" Ronan asked softly.

"No," Kiel whispered. "It was real."

They lay there in silence for a long time. Ronan's knot kept them connected, and neither tried to pull away. The scent of sex and bond hung heavy in the air.

Kiel broke the silence. "I don't know how to do this."

Ronan reached out, brushing sweat-damp hair from his forehead. "Neither do I."

Their eyes met.

And for once—neither of them looked away.