Page 25 of Reformed Wolf
I laughed, shaking my head trying to clear it. We were playing a dangerous game. It would be so easy to give in to the mating call. Our hearts already knew we belonged together, our souls cut from the same piece of cloth, and now our bodies were trying to take the lead and complete the bond, with or without our permission.
Dylan’s claws were already out. I could feel them raking over my skin, and part of me wanted him to just mark me, lay claim, to hell with everything else. But what would his father do if I took advantage of his hospitality and disrespected him like that? What would Azar do if he felt he’d been cheated?
But beyond all the politics involved, I knew one thing for certain—at the very least, I owed my mate a blowjob.
I grabbed hold of Dylan’s hips and rolled until he was under me. “Grab hold of the headboard,” I instructed Dylan, and like a good boy, he did as he was told. Then I slithered down his body, took hold of those soft pants, and whipped them straight off.
Oh, was he ever a sight to behold, with his arms stretched over his head, his body long and taut. There’d been other bedmates in my past, a parade of temporary distractions, none of whom had meant anything to me. Dylan had swept into my life like a hurricane, blowing the memories of my past away without even trying. Now, all I could see was him. His skin was flushed, lips kiss-swollen, hair standing in all directions like a sex-wrecked god. I couldn’t wait to see what he looked like after we finally did the deed.
And then, of course, there was his glorious cock, so smooth and perfect and weeping. As I watched, it bobbed with anticipation, and I grinned, all predator. I prowled back up the bed, pushing his thighs apart so I could settle on my stomach between them.
He watched me, his gaze ravenous. “Tristan…” he whispered. It was a plea.
I took one long swipe of my tongue from root to tip, flicking the crease at the top to collect the precum. I closed my eyes in total bliss, savoring the salty goodness. “Oh, Dylan, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but damn, I am going to leave an offering at every god’s altar in thanks, just to make sure.”
Gripping the base of his cock in my fist, I slipped the smooth, thick head between my lips, going slow to keep a leash on my urges.
I wasn’t even halfway down before Dylan abandoned his good behavior, releasing the headboard to fist my hair. “Holy shit,” he cursed, pressing me down the rest of the way. “That is… so good.” He gave a little tentative jerk of his hips, trying and failing to restrain himself.
I drew my mouth back up, following with a tight fist to spread my saliva. I lingered at the top until I heard his breath catch, and then I plunged straight back down. Dylan let out a long whine and thrust up into my mouth. “I need more,” he growled.
Gods, my mate was needy, and I loved every second of it. I couldn’t wait to see him lose total control. I let him slip from my mouth long enough to say, “Take what you need from me, mate. The harder the better.” Then I sheathed him straight back inside my warm, wet mouth.
His claws were still out, and in the end, I decided it would be safest if I held his wrists, one in each hand, to keep him from breaking the rules he’d set for us. At least this way I wouldn’t be tempted to bury my fingers inside his channel.
Dylan was careful at first, probably worried about going too hard, too deep, but when I moaned around his shaft, goading him on, his movements got faster. I relaxed every muscle, loving the feel of him gliding over my tongue. The head of his cock nudged the back of my throat, but I’d practiced this enough that I was able to open up and invite him in deep. Soon he was fucking my throat.
“More,” he begged, his voice getting louder. “Please, I need more! I need you to fuck me, Tristan!”
My wolf, too, wanted more. He wanted to bite, to claim our mate once and for all, none of this competition nonsense. Who did these other alphas think they were, vying for our mate? He was ours! My gums ached as my canines threatened to elongate. Shit, I could imagine no worse place for a mating mark than where I was currently situated, but I was so godsdamned horny! I bucked my hips, my eyes clenched tight, as I searched for friction against the mattress beneath me. My jaw ached, saliva making everything glide just right.
Dylan begged and pleaded, trying to pull his wrists free from my grip. He was so close, his entire body tense, but his beast was also riding him hard to claim.
This was a bad idea, but also… so very good.
The more he fought, the deeper he plunged, stretching my lips wide. I did my best to add pressure, hollowing my cheeks, and so help me, it was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced in my life, the way he fought. My own orgasm was racing toward me. I was going to come all over the mattress like a beginner without him even laying a finger on me.
Pressure built, heat ignited, and my balls squeezed up so tight I thought they would implode, until just when I couldn’t hold it in for even a second longer, Dylan cried out, “Fuck! Tristan, I’m—” and with a final jerk of his hips, he unloaded into my mouth. Thick and warm and like ambrosia on my tongue, I swallowed every drop, just in time to pull my mouth off, because when my climax hit, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t mark him. I groaned long and low, pumping my own wasted seed onto the mattress beneath me.
We both lay there entirely wrung out, no sound but our panting breath. “Shit, Dylan. You’re going to be the death of me,” I mumbled, laughing into his stomach where I’d dropped my forehead. I felt him tense under me, and when I looked up his body, his eyes had shuttered, the light that had been there moments ago extinguished. “Hey, where’d you go? Did I say something wrong?” I released his wrists and moved carefully to his side, stroking a finger along his jaw and tilting his face toward me. “Was I that bad?”
He choked out a reluctant laugh, earning me a smile. “As if you don’t know that was the single most erotic thing I’ve ever done in my life.” He shook his head, the brief smile slipping. “It’s just… what you said, it could happen, you know. My mother. She died, and it was my father’s fault.” My guard came up, and he quickly amended, “He didn’t cause it directly. One of his colleagues thought they would show him who was boss by forcing my mom’s car off a bridge, except she… she couldn’t get out in time, and she drowned.”
Dylan’s eyes turned glassy with tears, his chin quivering. “My dad has been extra protective ever since. He blames himself for her death, and he thought he could protect me by forging some new powerful alliance by setting up this competition. Except now that you’re here, I feel like history is destined to repeat itself. I don’t want someone to target you or your pack because of me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”
I wanted to promise him that nothing would happen, that we would live happily ever after, but that wasn’t something I could do. Not when there was a very good chance he was right. I’d already been through more than my share of scuffles. “Would it help if I said I had no interest in your father’s business?” I asked, resting my forehead on his. “I don’t know exactly what he’s up to, but I know enough to say I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Maybe?” he replied, and I could hear the hope in his voice. He wanted to believe we had nothing but peace in our future, and I made a vow to myself that I would do everything in my power to give it to him. After the fight with Azar, of course…
“Come here,” I said, tugging him closer, and he curled himself around me, hooking his leg over mine and laying his head on my chest. I pulled the blanket over us and ran my fingers through his hair lazily until I felt his whole body begin to relax. There was a gentle vibration emanating from his chest, and I paused my movements, smiling. “Are you… purring?” I had the urge to giggle. “It’s just like having a pet cat.”
“Shut up,” he muttered, half asleep, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. “I’m not my panther’s keeper. He can purr if he wants to.”
“No, I like it. Don’t stop.” I went back to petting him. This was everything I’d ever wanted but didn’t know how to ask for.
Dylan yawned. “I should go. I need to let you sleep, but I don’t want to miss a second with you.” He was fighting a losing battle, his eyelids drooping shut. I should’ve agreed with him, told him to leave, let him slip out the way he came in, but I couldn’t seem to force my arms to release him.
“Just five more minutes,” I said. And in less than one, we were both sound asleep.