Mated To An Enemy

461 Haven't Earned It



Myka's mind was reeling while his body reacted naturally. His lips moved with Peter, parting to allow their tongues to get reacquainted as he tried desperately to settle his mind.

Peter sucked on Myka's bottom lip and pushed him back until Myka's thighs hit the desk, and he was forced to stumble back on top of the charts that Peter had been working on.

The fall separated them long enough for Myka's mind and body to collapse back together. He looked up at Peter, the hunger in his eyes and the soft pants he let out threatened to shake Myka's mind again.

What was happening?

“Peter…” Myka whispered through his own soft pants.

Peter growled and reached forward. He grabbed hold of the bottom of Myka's shirt and pulled it up over his head but then used it to hold Myka's arms back.

“Peter!” Myka shouted in surprise.

But Peter didn't seem to hear or notice. He moved between Myka's legs, the dark swirling lust in his eyes focused on Myka's pale, lean chest. He lowered his head, wrapping his lips around one of Myka's nipples.

Myka gasped and bit down on his lip.

It had been five long years since he had last felt this exhilaration. He couldn't believe this was happening. He came to talk, to clear the air. This was beyond his expectations.

He wanted to touch him, to taste him. Myka had spent five years missing Peter, dreaming of him and longing for him. Now here he was, and he couldn't touch him.

Myka struggled against his shirt, but Peter held tightly to it.

“Peter,” Myka called in a husky voice. “Let me touch you… please.”

“No,” Peter replied, flicking his tongue against the hardened nipple on Myka's chest and then biting down on it.

“Ugh!” Myka cried out. It was painful, but Peter's tongue soothed him. His hot breath eased away the sting.

Peter continued to suck and bite at Myka's chest while he held his arms locked in place.

Myka didn't understand what was happening. He was enjoying Peter's touch, his tongue. But this was nothing like before. When had Peter become so aggressive? And why wouldn't he let Myka touch him?

How could they make up if he couldn't give Peter just as much pleasure as he was receiving?

“Peter,” Myka whispered desperately as another bite sent a shockwave of painful delight down his shaft, stiffening him to an uncomfortable degree. “Please… let me touch you.”

Peter pulled away from Myka's chest, leaving a few nibbles along his throat as he straightened himself up.

He hovered just above Myka's, close enough that he could feel his hot breath against his lips, but he couldn't kiss him if he tried.

“No,” Peter whispered with a strange look. “You haven't earned it….”

Myka furrowed his brow. He looked into Peter's eyes, he saw the lust, the hunger, but further back, he saw Peter. He saw the hurt from five years ago exposed and raw.

This wasn't makeup sex. It wasn't even angry sex. It was empty.

When Myka came today, he was prepared for yelling and possibly hitting. He was ready to be thrown out and to come begging at Peter's door as many times as it took for him to hear him out.

But he was not prepared for meaningless sex between them.

Peter moved his body forward, pressing his thigh against Myka's groin until he moaned. Peter grinned to himself. As he leaned down to the other nipple, intent on pulling every moan he could from Myka's soft lips.

“Peter,” Myka called softly.

Peter ignored him and flicked it with his tongue. Myka did his best to suppress the moan.

“Peter… stop,” Myka whispered, his breathing getting shallow.

Peter grinned and bit down on the nipple between his teeth. He then sucked hard on it when Myka let out a small cry.

“Peter… stop!” Myka finally shouted.

Peter was surprised and drew back. He looked up, expecting to see Myka blushing with soft pants and glassy eyes. Hoping to see his anticipation and the same desire that raged within Peter.

But he did not expect to see tears streaming down Myka's face. He did not expect to see hurt in his eyes.

Peter furrowed his brows. He let go of Myka's shirt and took several steps back.

Myka sniffled and clenched his jaw, pulling his shirt back over his head. He looked away from Peter, and they were both quiet.

Peter hugged himself and swallowed as he also turned away. Suddenly feeling both confused and foolish.

Myka sniffled again, and Peter felt a pang of guilt. But then the memory of the treatment room flashed in his mind, of Myka grabbing hold of him and kissing him.

“I don't understand,” he said bitterly. “What's the problem?”

Myka looked up at him. That hurt was still there.

“You started this, Myka! You kissed me, remember?” Peter growled.

Myka clenched his jaw and stood up from the desk.

“I kissed you because of how I feel about you because I missed you so much that I couldn't hold it in anymore once I saw you,” he said. “But this… this wasn't about that.”

Peter looked away.

“I know you don't believe me,” Myka said quietly, his tone filled with heartache. “But I came here to talk. To explain and apologize and try to work things out with you. I came because I care about you.”

Myka stood up from the desk, swallowed, and walked toward Peter.

“I may have disappointed and hurt you before, but I never tried to use you,” he said quietly. “I never tried to treat you like you didn't matter to me.”

Peter was stunned into silence, unable to defend himself or even respond to Myka's words.

Without another word from either of them, Myka left the office. And Peter slumped down at his desk in frustration.

***

The next day Peter sat on his couch, taking a much-deserved day off from the hospital. Usually, this was when he did all his errands and would go out for drinks or a run with a couple of friends.

But instead, he was curled up on the couch. He had a blanket wrapped around him and a bowl of cold noodles sitting on the table beside him.

Generally, he would have picked up groceries on his way home from the hospital before his day off. But yesterday, he hadn't been in the mood to deal with anything.

Myka had well and truly taken up residence inside Peter's mind. He just kept thinking of the hurt look in his eyes. And what he had said.

He sighed and laid his back on the couch.

There was a knock at his door.

He sighed and turned away, refusing to acknowledge the world outside or those that lived in it.

But the person on the other side of the door didn't seem to get the hint.

After a series of at least ten knocks in a row, Peter couldn't handle it anymore. He growled as he shoved the blanket off him and to the floor. Still dressed in his pajamas, a long sleeve white shirt, and a pair of lounge pants with stethoscopes all over, he got up to answer the door.

He assumed from the irritating way they were persisting it must be Bell. No one else he had ever met could annoy him quite as much as she could. Of course, most of the time, that annoyance was followed by laughter.

Maybe it was a good thing for her to visit. He knew she was bound to show up sooner or later demanding answers about who exactly Myka was. Perhaps talking about what had happened between them five years ago and the day before would help him process it all better.

As he got closer to the door, he got his answer.

“I know you're in there!” she said in a sing-song voice.

Peter couldn't help but laugh as he reached for the door.

“Come on, Peter, Ren is with Corrine. I can stand out here all day if I have to!” Bell called through the door.

“Isn't she in the discussions with the nomads today?” Peter asked as he pulled open the door.

Bell smiled brightly.

“They canceled it for a few days,” she said, moving past him to enter the house. “Caleb said he needed to return home for a few days, and the nomad reps were getting antsy. Axel told them they were welcome to stay within Winter if they wanted, or they could return to the rest of their wolves and have their own discussions. They'll come back in four days to talk again.”

Peter nodded and chewed his bottom lip.

“And did they leave?” he asked nonchalantly as he sat back on the couch, pulling the blanket over his knees.

Bell raised her eyebrow at him.

“You mean, did Myka leave?” she asked.

Peter looked away.

Bell laughed.

“I honestly don't know,” she said. “Corrine just gave me a brief rundown before I headed this way.”

Peter nodded.

Another knock at his door had them both looking up.

“Are you expecting someone else?” Bell asked.

Peter shook his head.

The knocks continued.

Peter considered ignoring it, but the person didn't seem to give up.

“That's annoying,” Bell sighed.

Peter looked at her with a raised brow.

“What?”

He shook his head as he got up to answer the door.

“Coming!” he called out as he reached the door and gently pulled it open.

His brows furrowed in confusion at the person on the other side.

“Hiya, Dr. Petey,” Alice smiled.


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