Wolfsong (54 page)

It was clumsy at first. The angle was off, the rhythm filled with teeth and too much saliva. It hit me that I was only the second person he’d kissed in his life, if what he’d said was true. Frankie had been nothing but a passing thought, and I never wanted to know just how far they’d gone.

So I gentled it down as well as I could, slowing the pace, dragging it out. He was already breathing heavily as I swiped my tongue along his lips. He let out a little gasp, the smallest of noises, and his lips parted and my tongue touched his.

One moment I was leaning over him and the next I was flat on my back with an Alpha werewolf on top of me, a growl vibrating from his chest as he dragged his nose along my neck up behind my ear, inhaling as he went. His lips trailed after, wet against my throat, huffing out little breaths on my skin, trying to get his scent to mix in with mine.

He stretched out on top of me, and if there had been any doubt we were now evenly matched, that was long gone given how we met perfectly from head to toe. He ground down onto me, and I felt the hard line of his cock pressing against mine.

I reached up and wrapped my hand around the back of his head, holding him close against my neck. He was panting now, like it was overwhelming, like all of this was crashing over him. He trailed his lips and tongue up my jaw until he kissed me again. He was still unsure, the kisses shy and unpracticed, but it felt more real than any other person I’d been with.

I let go of the nape of his head and slid my hand down the wide expanse of his back, trying to find skin, trying to feel the heat of him.

His shirt had risen up, and I touched his back, pressing my hand flat against him, pushing him down as I pushed myself up, wanting the rough friction. He groaned into my mouth as our cocks lined up briefly before sliding next to each other.

He was pulling back, just the smallest amounts, his lips still brushing mine, saying, “I don’t know what to do, I’ve never done this, I don’t know what to
do
,” and his eyes were the brightest red I’d ever seen, like he was burning from the inside out.

“I know,” I said. “I know, I do, I’ll take care of—”

Which, really. I should have known to never tell a current bed partner of my past sexual experiences while in bed with him, especially if he happens to be an Alpha on a hair trigger. The moment I said
I do
, because I
did
know what to do, my hands were pinned over my head and Joe was snarling in my face, teeth sharp and eyes flaring impossibly brighter.

“You said you
didn’t do that while I was gone
,” he growled, hips stuttering against me like they hadn’t caught up with the fact that he was pissed.

Not that he had any right to be. “I didn’t,” I snapped back. “I told you I—”

“No one else,” he said and then rolled his hips deliberately, like he wanted to see my reaction up close.

I couldn’t stop my eyes from fluttering shut, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. I said, “
Joe
,” and he did it again, harder this time.

“Say it,” he said hotly, pressing his forehead to mine, circling his hips again and again. “You say it, Ox.”

It was fucked up. It really was. Because I knew what he wanted, what it meant to the wolf, and it was possessive and not who I was. I wasn’t a
thing
.

But goddamn, did that do more for me than anything else.

There was the Alpha part of me that gnashed its teeth at the thought.

But there was the even bigger part, the part that was all Ox, that said,
yes yes yes.

“
Say it
,” the wolf said near my ear.

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “Yours, Joe. I’m yours.”

He shook above me, inhaling sharply like he was surprised, like he didn’t expect me to agree with him, to do what he said. I didn’t know how deep his insecurities ran or how far his instincts were taking him, but he hadn’t expected it.

It was the start, I thought. For the both of us.

Because even though he was still clumsy, even though he didn’t know what to do, he sat up and straddled my waist, legs bent on either side of me. He rolled his hips again as he took his shirt by the hem and pulled it up and over his head, revealing that wide chest of his, the sparse hair, the cut of his stomach. He tossed the shirt to the floor and leaned back on his hands as I traced along his stomach up to his chest. His nipples were dusky, little whorls of hair around them. I took one between my fingers and gave it sharp twist, watching his stomach clench, mouth falling open.

And because I could, I rose up, wrapping my arms around his back, holding him close to me, licking where my fingers had been. His nipple hardened under my tongue, and I scraped my teeth against him just to feel him tremble.

His dick was pressing against my stomach through denim, but I wasn’t ready for it yet. He leaned over behind me as I worried his flesh with my teeth, pulling at my work shirt until he got it and the tank top I wore underneath up to my shoulders. I leaned slightly to let him pull them off. I didn’t see where it went because there was so much skin pressed against mine. He burned hot, almost feverish, as he tilted my head back and kissed me again, sloppy and wet. He tasted like I thought he would, clean and powerful. He gripped the sides of my face with his hands as I dropped my own down to cup his ass, squeezing to pull him against me even more.

He muttered my name against my lips before I tilted my head back again. His teeth found the skin near my throat and began sucking a mark. Something in me shifted, growling at the idea of him marking me, trying to get him to suck harder, to use more teeth. I wanted it there for everyone to see, so no one would make a mistake as to who put it there. These weren’t thoughts I’d ever had with anyone else, but then I’d never been with someone like him.

I reached between us as he continued marking me, trying to grab the front of his jeans. I missed the fly and my knuckles dragged against the hard outline of his cock. It was an accident, but I did it again when he whined against my neck. I pressed harder, with purpose. He rutted against me as I did my best to grip him, but the denim was too soft between my fingers, the friction too light.

I reached up and pushed against his chest, leaning him back again. His eyes were red and heavy-lidded as he looked down between us, slack-jawed. His lips were swollen and slick and I had the savage thought that
I’d
done that.
I’d
made him look that way.

I flipped the button of his jeans with a practiced twist of my wrist, something that caused him to growl. I ignored him. He didn’t need to be upset with my experience, especially since he was going to benefit from it.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “What is with you and not wearing underwear?”

He grinned sharply down at me. “I had hopes.”

I snorted and trailed my fingers along the base of his cock, his wiry pubic hair scratching against the back of my hand. His breath caught in his chest and I was almost struck dumb at the fact that I was
teasing
him, that he was here, that we were together, and I was
teasing
him. The thought that I was the only one that had done this to him (and I was certain of that now) only made me feel more powerful. That I was the only one who’d seen him like this.

(
And the only one who will get to
, a little voice whispered in my head, but I pushed that away because it was too much, too much for me to even think about, even though the lizard part of my brain said
yes
and
yes
and
yes
.)

I pulled his dick out of his jeans, careful of the zipper. He was uncut and half-hard, his dick slimmer than mine and maybe a little longer. The weight of it in my hand short-circuited my brain a bit. Wolves burn warm, and it felt hot in my hands. I gripped it, squeezing as carefully as I dared, watching the foreskin slide as he grunted and thrust into my hand.

“Ox,” he said, sounding breathless and strangled.

“I know,” I said gently as I tightened my grip on him.

“You gotta—”

“I know.”

“
Do something
!”

I let go of his cock and he exhaled heavily, like he’d been punched in the stomach. Before he could protest, I raised my hand toward his face and said, “Lick.”

He didn’t even question it. He grabbed my hand and brought it to his mouth, tongue rasping over my palm, up between my fingers, before sucking two of them into his mouth, getting them spit-slick and wet. I ground my teeth together to keep from shoving him back and taking what I wanted right then and there. This wasn’t about me, though. Not yet. I needed to make this good for him.

I pulled my hand away, and he whimpered, reaching up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What are you—”

The rest of it was choked off when I grabbed his dick again and, using his spit, slid my hand up and down. His hands came down to my shoulders, claws out, but not digging into my skin as I jacked him off. His stomach muscles tensed as I leaned forward and licked up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me close, barely leaving enough space for my hand between us. He was growling near my ear, a continuous purr that I was going to make fun of him later for.

I swiped my thumb over the tip of his dick, and his hips jerked. I groaned, my cock pressing painfully against my zipper, trapped under his ass. I couldn’t get off like this, and I didn’t want to. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I didn’t need to nut in my jeans.

I nosed my way up to his neck and it wouldn’t be until later that I realized he never froze, never pulled away. He bared his throat to me as if it were nothing, as if he weren’t an Alpha who was unused to doing such things. The throat, I knew, was a vulnerable place for a wolf. It showed rank, especially for an Alpha. Betas always bared their throats to the Alpha as a sign of respect. Even the humans in my pack had taken to doing it whenever they saw me, an unconscious action I didn’t even think they were aware of anymore.

But his neck was back like he’d never been threatened before, like he’d never been hurt before, and I knew what it meant. I latched my teeth onto the skin and I
bit
, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him feel it. His wolf was close to the surface, if the noises he was making meant anything, and I felt more animal than man, words like
mine
and
mate
and
claim
running on a loop through my head.

It wasn’t enough.

I pushed him back. He went without protest, bouncing on the bed, his dick displayed obscenely, jeans low on his hips. I jerked them down, fingers grazing against his strong thighs. He was jerky in his movements as he helped, trembling in his excitement. He tried to kick his jeans off, grunting in frustration when they caught on his feet. I pressed a hand against his leg, trying to get him to calm. He raised his head from the bed, looking at me. His eyes were blue again, back to normal, but he was flushed, a shine of sweat on his forehead.

I reached down to where his jeans had bunched around his feet, and pulled them off. Joe Bennett was nude, spread out in my old bed, waiting for me to move. His cock was curved and jutting up toward his stomach. His balls lay against his thigh, shifting when he moved his leg. His thighs were hairy, and I wanted to run my hands and tongue on them. To touch. To taste.

He was the most precious thing I had.

And, at least for the moment, I
did
have him. Whatever happened later, this could not be taken from me.

“What is it?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“Nothing,” I said, voice rough. “I’m just…. You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, Ox. I’m here.”

He lifted his foot and poked a toe against my chest. I caught his ankle, holding it in place. I leaned down and pressed a kiss against the bone, and he sighed, squirming slightly as I exhaled against him. I kissed his calf as I reached down and unbuttoned my own jeans. The pressure eased some, and it was enough for what I wanted to do. There could be a good pain, and I wanted to push against those boundaries.

I continued up his leg, reaching his knee. He huffed a laugh when I kissed the inside of his knee, and I grinned. I arched an eyebrow at him, but he just rolled his eyes and made an impatient noise.

“You need something?” I asked, not moving, but still holding his leg up.

“You bastard,” he said. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck you, Ox,” he said.

“We can do that.”

He gaped at me.

I shrugged.

He tried to pull his leg back.

I couldn’t have that.

So I grabbed his other one too, pushing my weight against the back of his thighs. His knees came to his chest as his eyes widened.

He was exposed to me. His dick pressed against his stomach, his balls drawn up between his folded legs. His asshole was surrounded by soft hair and I wanted to bury my face in him, to take in his scent, the smell of him.

“Ox,” he said, panting again, like he
knew
what I was thinking, like he
knew
what I was going to do.

“It’s fine,” I said. “You’ll like this.”

He cried out when I licked him from his ass to his balls, trying to pull away and push toward me all at the same time. I’d never done this before, not really, but I knew the idea behind it, the mechanics of it. I didn’t know if he wanted me to fuck him or if he was going to fuck me, but I wanted him loose and wet with my spit.

“Hold your legs,” I said, putting more Alpha in my voice than I should have. He didn’t hesitate, reaching up under his knees and holding himself in place. His claws were still out, and I placed his fingers to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself.

It was a heady thing when I pulled back, to see him as he was. There was a sense of power rushing through me, to have someone like him on his back and waiting for me. I didn’t know if it was because he was an Alpha or if it was because he was Joe, or a combination of the two. It made me light-headed, the edges of my vision going fuzzy.