Wesley (7 page)

A strange sensation began to come alive in Armando. He didn’t recognise it at first, then the familiar flutter of her wings revealed the birth of hope inside of him. Armando hadn’t dared to want anyone, nor had he believed he’d ever want anyone any more than he’d ever be wanted.
 

But no, he’d been wrong. Armando slowly walked down the steps, his eyes darting from Wes’ to his chest and the quarter-sized nipples surrounded by dense tufts of hair. Armando had never cared much to have his own tits messed with—then again, he’d been hooking, and his pleasure hadn’t been high on many of his customers’ importance. Regardless, he had to get his hands on those nipples, and his mouth on them, too.

Wes released a stuttery breath and started to touch his cock.

“No. Leave that for me,” Armando ordered. “Touch your nipples.”
Touch me. Don’t touch me. I don’t know which I want more.
Armando’s balls grew tight and he knew, if he were going to be honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he wanted Wes’ hands on him, his mouth…

Wes dragged his hands up that long torso, his narrowed gaze never leaving Armando’s. He teased his nipples, flicking them and making himself gasp. Armando had to watch those fingers, and he did as he stooped beside Wes.

Armando watched as Wes brought his nipples to stiff peaks, then, unable to hold himself back any longer, Armando pushed Wes’ hands up and off his chest. Armando bent and nibbled on one sweet, salty bud while finding the other with his fingers.

Wes quaked beneath him, a shocked sound emanating from him. “I… It feels so much better when you—”

Armando suckled hard enough to cut off the flow of Wes’ words. He wanted to taste, touch, experience. He pinched and flicked the other nipple as he scraped his teeth over the one in his mouth. A long, low moan was torn out of Wes, and Armando was dimly aware of him undulating, thrusting, looking for a touch to his cock.

As much as Armando wanted to grab it and do all sorts of raunchy things to it, he didn’t grab Wes’ dick. He took his time, working Wes’ nipples, turning the flesh hot and swollen. Armando tugged on the coarse strands of hair swirling around Wes’ areolae, pulling with shaky fingers as his own need made his cock leak.

Wes clawed at the ground, and his entire body gyrated as he thrust against the air. “Please, please, Armando, God, please. Let me come, I’m begging.”

Wes
was
begging, and it was the sexiest thing Armando had heard in possibly forever. Armando was impressed despite his own horniness. Wes hadn’t touched him, or his own cock. All that amazing shifter strength, and Wes was handing it over to Armando. That did indeed deserve a reward.

Armando nipped his way down Wes’ chest, the salt and musk taste of him stronger than a regular human. There was the scent of something wild, a strong odour that wasn’t bad, was actually acting like an aphrodisiac, Armando thought. With every breath, he wanted Wes more and more. His fear was still there, gnawing at the back of his brain, and Armando wasn’t going to let Wes fuck him, possibly ever. It was the ‘possibly’ that gave him hope as he licked into Wes’ belly button.

“Argh!” Wes jerked, the top of his cock leaving wet kisses under Armando’s chin. “Armando, I can’t stop.” Wes bumped his chin again and Armando growled, shocking himself. He’d never been so aggressive when it came to sex, not unless he’d been paid to play the part, so he’d never meant it. But with Wes, Armando couldn’t restrict his feelings or reactions any longer. He didn’t even want to try.

Armando canted his head as he raised up slightly. All it took was a light grip around Wes’ fat cock, then Armando eyed Wes’ tip. Pre-cum glistened from the slit, beckoning him. Armando swallowed his moan and licked the liquid, the skin of Wes’ crown smooth and hot on his tongue.

“Oh, oh man,” Wes panted. “I’m gonna come—”

“No,” Armando snapped, ringing the base of Wes’ shaft with enough force to hold back a tsunami of cum. “Not until I say.” Not until he’d got more of that wonderful cock in his mouth.

A whine escaped Wes’ lips, but only for a second as he snapped his teeth together audibly. From the corner of his eye, Armando saw Wes fist his hands in his hair and pull hard enough to tilt his eyes and make the skin on his cheeks and forehead unnaturally taut. Armando grinned then focused on the delicious cock in front of him. He lapped at the head several times, drawing shivers and moans from Wes. Then he stopped torturing them both and sucked the broad crown into his mouth, flicking his tongue repeatedly at the bundle of nerves on the underside.

Wes shouted loud enough to wake Remus, and probably the entire wolf shifter pack. Armando didn’t give a damn. Wes’ taste, the girth and length of him, was a perfection Armando had never experienced before.

He palmed Wes’ balls with the hand not holding back Wes’ climax. Wes thrashed his legs, digging his heels into the ground and jutting his hips up. Armando rumbled and squeezed his nuts, gently, a warning to behave. The whimper from Wes was almost indiscernible but Armando caught it. He rubbed Wes’ sac and took a few more inches into his mouth, keeping his tongue on one of the thick veins running down Wes’ cock.

Armando opened his hand on Wes’ balls, extending his fingers to touch more of him. He felt the seam leading down to Wes’ hole and traced it as he took more of Wes’ length in. His gag reflex used to be non-existent, but as Armando neared the halfway point, he had to draw back before he embarrassed himself. The tip of his finger brushed over hot, ruched skin and Wes bucked hard enough to gag Armando.

Armando growled around the cock in his throat as his eyes watered. He pulled off and glared. “A little control, Wes.”

Wes’ eyes went wide and his shaft pulsed in Armando’s hand. “Say it again.”

Armando frowned, not wanting to play stupid games when there was a spectacular cock he could be sucking. Then he got it, and a strange sensation he belatedly recognised as happiness began to bloom in him. “Wes. Wesley.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s… That’s so everything,” Wes rasped.

Armando wasn’t sure he’d heard that last part right, and, if he had, what Wes meant, but now wasn’t the time to ponder it. He moved until he could put his forearm above Wes’ groin. “Keep still or I’ll stop. It’s been a while and—” And he wasn’t going there. Armando dived back down on Wes’ cock before any questions could be asked. He forced himself to take more of Wes, scolding himself over the whole gagging thing.

Once, Armando had known how to give brain-melting blow jobs. He wasn’t going to count that talent as gone now. He sucked and licked, keeping his mouth sealed tightly around Wes’ veiny shaft as he took the head into his throat. Wes screamed, for all the world sounding almost as if he was in pain, but Armando knew better, he knew the way pleasure could bind tightly with pain in the right circumstances, and blow a person away.

He rubbed over the clenching sphincter beneath his finger as he swallowed, and Wes’ scream then was a ragged, broken sound. Armando released the base of his dick and hot cum poured into his throat. He pulled back and caught the next burst on his tongue as he continued teasing Wes’ hole. Wes jerked and spasmed as his balls pumped the rest of his load into Armando’s mouth.

Armando kept suckling Wes’ softening cock, enjoying the feel of it, that taste of the man. It was a shock to him, though he supposed it shouldn’t have been, considering Wes’ age, when Wes’ cock began to grow hard again. Armando pulled off and canted his head at Wes. “Again?”

Wes gave an all-over shrug as colour darkened his cheeks. “I’m twenty and a kinda virgin. What do you expect?”

Armando felt a stirring of unease as he sat up straighter. “’Kinda virgin’? What does that mean?” Although he feared he knew.

Wes frowned and pushed up on his elbows. “Well, I haven’t done anything other than beat off and watch porn, that’s what it means, and I was a total virgin until about three minutes ago. Don’t you think a blow job de-virginises a guy some?”

Armando groaned and scooted back to sit on the lowest porch step. “I don’t
do
virgins,” he muttered, but his dick was impossibly hard, had been since Wes’ admission.

“But you
did
just do me, so that’s not true,” Wes argued.

Armando rubbed his face then peeked out between his fingers at Wes.

“I didn’t know—”

But he had, hadn’t he? Armando replayed bits and images from what had just occurred. He wasn’t surprised by Wes’ claim, because he had known. His former experiences had enabled him to pick up on subtleties, even without trying. Wes’ unrestrained reactions, his need and openness, were all obvious clues to his inexperience.

None of those things turned Armando off. But still, “I’ve got to go. I can’t—you don’t understand,” he muttered, standing and stumbling and fleeing like the coward he was.

“Make me understand, Armando. Explain it to me,” he heard Wes beg.

Armando pulled the screen door open and darted inside, something that wasn’t quite fear pushing him to flee. He grabbed his keys and cellphone from the table and ran as if a hungry leopard were chasing him. If he was disappointed that wasn’t so, he’d never tell another soul.

Something was happening inside him, and Armando didn’t understand it. For over two years, he’d been unable and unwilling to move forward, to free himself from the chains of his past. And now, after a week of eying Wes, those chains seemed to be disintegrating all on their own. What the hell was happening to him?

Wes was up and on the steps before he forced himself to stop. His erection had given way under the panic coming off of Armando. It wasn’t just fear, though. Armando had been aroused, very much so.

Wes went inside then stepped back out and dusted himself off. He had dirt and twigs in places no man ever should, but that wasn’t his primary concern. Armando was a puzzle, a fascinating, sexy puzzle—and he was Wes’ mate. His snow leopard wanted the man every bit as much as Wes’ human side did, and letting Armando walk, or run, away was one of the most difficult things Wes had ever done. His feline instincts said chase, but a rare streak of logic warned him to give Armando some space.

Another shower was in order, although Wes hated to wash away the scent of Armando. There wasn’t a whole lot of it, so Armando had used whatever it was he did to neutralise his odour, but perhaps because he’d touched Wes, had sucked his cock, Wes had been able to catch a hint of Armando’s exotic scent. It was spicy and hot, and reminded Wes of his sour-sharp candies. He smirked and tried to imagine calling Armando his Chamoy. That would probably get him hurt.

A cold shower soothed some of the scratches Wes had got from rolling around on the ground. It was too hot still to take a warm shower anyway. When he washed his dick, his slick hand reminded him of Armando’s mouth, so wet and hot and with such perfect suction… Wes beat off, coming in less than a dozen strokes to the image of Armando taking him into his throat. He rinsed and got out, then towelled off and dressed in his wrinkled clothes.

It didn’t surprise him when he stepped out of the bathroom to find Remus sitting at the table. “So much for you needing to get some sleep, huh?”

Remus chuckled, a rare sound from the man, then stopped and tapped the seat beside him. “Sit. And I am not so old that I have to go to sleep before midnight, and I only turn into a pumpkin during the full moon.”

Remus’ rare humour was unexpected, and Wes laughed as he took a seat. He fidgeted with his fingers for a moment as Remus watched him. Wes almost wanted to ask him to just go ahead and peek into his brain, because he thought sometimes that Remus could do it, read people’s thoughts. But finally he broke, glancing sideways at Remus.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about Armando when I asked,” he began, tacking on more before Remus could answer. “I don’t get why my mate would run from me. I didn’t think that was supposed to happen.”

“What did you think was
supposed
to happen?”

Something about the way Remus asked it confused Wes. As if he were silly for thinking there was a way mates clicked with one another. “Well, I thought mates were, you know, inseparable.” He realised his mistake instantly and slapped his forehead. “Duh. Sully said Bobby ran out on him and he had to hunt Bobby down days later.”

“Which does answer your question. Mates are strongly attracted to each other, but they are still human—even shifters—and able to be ruled by their fear, or, in Bobby’s case, sheer stubbornness.” Remus sighed then and looked in the direction of the front door. “Armando, however, has secrets that are not mine to share, Wes. I am the only person he has trusted with them, albeit perhaps not willingly. I happened to be there at a time when he needed someone to depend on, someone to trust. I cannot violate that trust now.” He turned back to Wes. “But I will tell you, Armando is a very good man, who was been hurt more than most people can imagine. More, even, than he knows. Give him time, even if your leopard is unhappy about it. You must put your mate first, above your own desires.”