Trickster (6 page)

The other man froze. “Am I hurting
you?”

“Uh, no.” And to his surprise, that
was the truth. “It just burns a little. Wow.”

“Yeah, wow is right. Shit, you feel
amazing.” Delaney stroked his thighs, cupping his hands over Mark’s hipbones. “I
won’t move until you tell me I can.”

Mark nodded, focused on his ass. The
burn had already started to subside and he felt stretched, but in a weirdly
good way. And God, there was this need growing inside him, the need for Delaney
to be buried balls deep inside him.

He wrapped his legs around Delaney’s
waist, crossing his ankles over the shifter’s spine. “I think you can go a
little deeper.”

Delaney obeyed, easing forward. Every
amazing inch that sank inside him felt better than the one before, and Mark
wriggled a little when Delaney hesitated, pushing down with his heels until the
shifter bottomed out. His leaking cock was caged between their bellies,
slipping against sweaty skin and adding its own slick pleasure.

Delaney stared down at him, pupils
blown black with desire. “Fuck, you feel so good, babe. Tight and hot, like you’re
made for me. Tell me it’s good for you, too.”

Mark blushed. He felt incredibly
full and stretched, but it was a fantastic fullness, satisfying that deep
craving in him. “Yeah. It’s like I always needed you inside me. I just didn’t
know it until now. God, it’s amazing.” He ran his hands up Delaney’s back,
feeling the play of muscles under the other man’s skin. “I don’t believe I’m
saying this, but —fuck me? Please?”

Delaney leaned closer, sucking at
Mark’s mouth in a wet, hungry kiss. “With pleasure.”

****

Delaney pulled out until he was
barely inside Mark, then thrust back in. The combination of pressure and
friction lit up his nervous system like a fireworks display, and he moaned at
the feeling, so tight and hot around his aching dick.

Mark’s hands clutched at his
shoulders, the human’s head rolling from side to side as he panted with
pleasure. “Yes, fuck me harder, oh God please—”

Delaney had no intention of
disappointing his mate. He started rolling his hips, feeling his balls slap
against Mark’s ass on the bottom of each thrust. The world narrowed down to
their two bodies and the places where they met—lips, chests, bellies, groins.
Hands roamed, clutching, caressing, stroking. Hot breath in each other’s faces,
words like more and please and harder whispered to each other in between gasps,
moans, and growls.

Delaney watched in rapture as a
deep red flush crept up over Mark’s abs to his chest, then to his neck and
face. He could feel the other man’s orgasm building alongside his own, pleasure
gushing back and forth between them like a blood tide.

Instinct took over. Canines
extending, he bit into the meaty part of Mark’s shoulder. Mark screamed,
pressing closer against him. The salty, smoky taste of his mate’s blood flooded
Delaney’s mouth, and his eyes rolled back in bliss. The mating bond snapped
into place, iron-hard and indestructible. He would always be able to track Mark
from smell alone, know how he felt, even what he was thinking if his mate
permitted it.

Coming almost seemed secondary next
to the mating bond, but he still felt it build in his balls before his cock
went rigid and he roared out in orgasm. His semen gouted deep inside Mark, triggering
the man’s own orgasm, and he felt warm wetness splash up between their bellies
as Mark’s inner muscles convulsed, milking him.

Replete, he sank onto his mate’s
body, wet with sweat and smelling like salt, musk, and semen. Sniffing deeply,
he locked each individual scent into memory where he could savor them.
Mine. Mine. All mine, my mate.

Mark raised his sweaty head, eyes
still glassy and blissed out. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Delaney paused.
“Wait, what did you hear?”

“Something about mine, my mate.”

A thrill ran through him. Mated
shifters could mentally communicate with each other, but he wasn’t sure if that
ability extended to a human/shifter mating. He concentrated.
Can you hear me now?

Mark stared at him. “Yes. Holy God.”
He blinked, then grinned. “Can all shifters do this?”

“Just the mated ones. Try thinking
at me.”

Mark’s face screwed up with effort.
You’re heavy
came through, dim but
understandable.

“Oops, sorry.” Delaney slid out of
his body, stretching out on the bed. “That clinches it, babe. We were made for
each other.”

“Apparently.” Mark lowered his
legs, wincing. “Ow. Did I mention that you’re big?”

Come on, Smith, time to be a good mate.
Still buzzing happily with their new bond, Delaney
rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom for a quick wash. He came back
with a warm, damp washcloth and proceeded to clean Mark up, to his mate’s
embarrassed objections.

I can wipe my own ass, you know.

Shut up and let me do this, all right?
Delaney eyed the firm curves under his hand,
and the tawny skin leading to a slightly puffy-looking hole. Next time, he
promised himself, he’d put Mark on his stomach and feast on that tender skin
until the other man begged for mercy.

Tossing the washcloth onto the
nightstand, Delaney curled around Mark, nuzzling the sweaty curls at the nape
of his neck. “Just checking —you’re not quitting Trickster or anything now, are
you?”

Mark shifted. “No, why?” He twisted
so that he could look at Delaney. “Do you want me to?”

“Hell no. I was just thinking that
we could carpool.”
And fuck in the
office, but we can talk about that later.

Mark relaxed. “Oh. Yeah, okay. But doesn’t
this break fraternization rules or something?”

“Nope. That’s the nice thing about
working for a shifter-owned company. We have special work clauses for mates.
Besides, if you left now Scott would skin me, what with the Lone Star release
coming up.”

“Hm. And I like your skin where it
is, so I’d better not go anywhere.”

Delaney smiled into Mark’s curls. “Sounds
like a plan to me.”

Chapter Six

Mark woke up to the warmth of
morning sunshine on his face. Squinting, he tried to turn, over and found
himself snuggling into Delaney’s chest.

The events of the previous night
drifted through his mind, and he grinned against his new boyfriend’s—
no, mate, call him what he is
—skin. He
could feel the pleasant aches that came after a night of really good sex,
although the one in his ass was a bit sharper than he would have liked.

“Sorry,” Delaney mumbled, throwing
an arm around him. “Won’t do that again for a day or two.”

Mark remembered that the shifter
could hear his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of someone, even
Delaney, being able to read his mind.

Delaney raised his head, sleepy
brown eyes opening and slowly focusing on Mark. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled.

“I just remembered that you can
read my mind. It’s a little —well, scary.”

“Oh. No, babe, I can’t read your
mind. I can hear it if you think directly at me, yeah, but I can’t tell what
else you’re thinking.” He leaned over and kissed Mark’s forehead. “Don’t worry.
Your head is your own. I can’t get in there without your permission.”

“But you just heard me think about
my ass hurting.”

The shifter chuckled. “I heard you
hiss when you moved. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.” This time he kissed
Mark on the mouth. “Which is fine. There’s plenty of other things we can do.”

Mark felt his morning wood perk up
at that. “Oh, really? Like what?”

“Mm, ever heard of frottage?”

“Sounds French. Is it dirty?”

“Only if you do it right.” Delaney
reached out and grabbed the lube bottle they’d left on the nightstand. “Allow
me to demonstrate, monsieur.”

****

After a set of deliciously messy
orgasms, they reluctantly headed to the shower. “We better hurry up and get
into work,” Mark said, rinsing himself under the spray. “We’re late as it is.”

“I should get the week off,” the
shifter grumbled, licking drops of water off Mark’s shoulders. “Scott took a
week and a half off when he mated Carmen.”

“You just came back from vacation
yesterday.” It struck Mark that he had met Delaney less than twenty-four hours
ago. This time yesterday, he had woken up thinking about the day’s work tasks,
what was going to happen on that week’s episode of
Agents of SHIELD
, and whether he could talk Caren into dinner and a
movie.

Caren. Guilt pricked him. He had to
call her. Worse, he had to break up with her. Although in retrospect, he
wondered, was it really such a bad thing? She was gorgeous, yes, and it would
have been nice to sleep with her at least once. But she could be awfully distant
at times, and he was getting a little tired of being held at arm’s length.
It’s probably better for the both of us. She
can find another workaholic executive, and they can raise ulcers together.

Delaney shut off the shower and
started toweling them both off. “Did you say something, babe?”

“Nothing.” Mark pulled in him for a
quick kiss. “We need to get moving, don’t we?”

“Rank hath its privileges. We get
in when we get in.” Delaney smirked. “Besides, I believe you were promised
breakfast.”

Mark’s stomach rumbled, and he gave
in. “I think you said something about pancakes?”

Delaney squeezed his ass. “Two
buttermilk pancake stacks, coming up.”

****

The moment he and Delaney walked
into the office, Aimee sniffed, then beamed at the two of them. “Aw, congratulations!
That’s so romantic,” she said with a big grin. “But shouldn’t you two be home
boffing each other stupid?”

Mark spluttered in shock, but
Delaney just leaned on the receptionist’s desk and chuckled. “Most of Trickster’s
permanent employee roster, including Aimee here, is made up of coyote shifters,”
he said. “It’s why Scott and I decided to name the company Trickster Tech.”

Aimee nodded. “Scott’s our pack
leader, what we call an Alpha.” She glared over her shoulder at the executive
office corridor. “And if he dragged you in during your bonding time, I’m gonna
bite him right on the ass on our next run.”

“It’s okay, Aims,” Delaney said. “We’ll
take some time off after the Lone Star release. Speaking of our glorious
leader, is he in yet?”

“He’s running late, and you’ve got
a conference call with that new startup in Richardson in five minutes.”

“Okay.” Delaney turned to Mark with
a smile that made Mark’s heart glow. “Come get me at lunch and I’ll introduce
you around.”

“But I already know most of the
people in Engineering,” Mark pointed out.

“Yeah, but you need to be properly
introduced as Del’s mate to all the Tricksters,” Aimee cut in. “It’s customary —we
need to know who’s in the inner circle, so to speak.”

Over the next few days, Mark learned
the private hierarchy behind the public company structure. Instead of occupying
the no-man’s-land of contractors, he was very close to the top of the heap as
Delaney’s mate. People who had smiled politely at him in the hallways now greeted
him with genuine warmth, congratulating him and Delaney on their mating. There
were a few raised eyebrows when Delaney explained that Mark was human, but on
the whole the Trickster shifters seemed to accept him without question.

Aimee had a lot of fun in
particular, razzing him about landing Trickster Tech’s most eligible bachelor
and commenting in luridly explicit detail about their sex life. When he let it
slip that he knew Morse code, the former Army Signal Corps officer took
advantage of that and started sending hilariously dirty messages to his phone
by selectively pressing the inside line button in a pattern of dots and dashes,
usually during web-based team meetings. Mark had to fight to keep a straight
face for the webcam while in his peripheral vision his phone blithely flashed
rude messages about trapezes, lube, and blowup sheep dolls.

And then there was the sex with
Delaney. Hot, bone-melting, amazingly powerful sex in bed, the shower, the
kitchen, his apartment, Delaney’s hot tub, Delaney’s office, and one
particularly memorable late night blowjob in Mark’s cubicle. To his private
delight his mate had no problems with switching things up, kneeling on the edge
of the bed one night and waggling the world’s most perfect bubble butt at him. Mark
was happy to comply, and the memory of sinking into that hot, silken squeeze as
Delaney moaned still made his cock twitch.

When they weren’t working or
fucking each other, they talked. Delaney told Mark about growing up near
Phoenix with his parents and two sisters, running at night with his pack under
the desert moon, meeting Scott at college and immediately clicking with the
other shifter, and how he’d come to Dallas at Scott’s invitation three years
ago to start Trickster. In turn Mark told him all about Waxahachie, the pride
of being a Texan and why he loved his state despite the idiots running it, and
his secret dream of someday going into space. The intense, intimate connection left
the both of them simultaneously wrung out, elated, and energized as the mating
bond deepened, becoming part of the bedrock of their lives.