When they returned to the house, lycans unloaded the contents of Luke’s apartment out front. Furniture, boxes, and trash bags spilling sheets and towels cluttered the yard. Lycans were communal creatures. Luke had asked to ally with the Yeager pack, but he’d wanted to join the family. As tenuous as his position in the pack might be, he’d anticipated offering most of his stuff for the pack’s use. Personal items like clothes too small to fit brawny lycans and his computer, which he needed for work, would remain his. The rest would be sorted and shared.
“More glasses,” Vince said, opening a box. He rolled his eyes at Luke. “How many cups can a single human need?” Vince asked, exasperated.
Luke shrugged. “Some are for coffee; others are for juice. There’s stemware for wine, margaritas—”
Dean halted him with a steely arm at his waist. “You drink?”
“Sometimes.”
Dean stared until Luke relented.
“Okay, no. My liver processes liquor too fast.” The trait common to almost everyone who claimed a lycan in their family tree, few associated with packs drank. “Alone in a new area, window dressing allowing me to pass for a regular human was my safest bet for allaying human suspicion. Besides, I thought I might entertain one day.”
“I’ll take those.” Jeremy snatched the highball glasses from Vince and grinned. “You can watch me get sloppy drunk later.”
“I thought you were more lycan than Luke. Who is barely lycan at all.” Nate shoved an assortment of pots and pans next to Luke’s Keurig, a premium set of knives, and other miscellaneous kitchenware. “If you’ve lycan blood in you, how do you manage to get intoxicated?”
“One shot of single malt whiskey at a time,” Jeremy said, voice warm with gloating satisfaction. He saluted Nate with a glass retrieved from the box and winked. “I dance like a stripper when I’m drunk. Trust me, Nate; you won’t want to miss it.”
“Blankets, over by the porch,” another lycan mumbled, directing one of the pack’s teenagers to a mountain of linens. He peered into the box the other teen carried. “More paper. Fantastic.” He grimaced. “Upstairs, door on the left.”
Black binder clips identified tax records jutting from the box. “Hold on.” Luke squared his shoulders. “Those are my work files. I need them.”
The lycan in charge of organizing the mess nodded. “Like I said. Upstairs. Door on the left.”
Dean spread his palm across the small of Luke’s back. “Come with me.”
It wasn’t a request, and Luke didn’t treat it as one. Rather than giving in to his fretfulness at the distribution of his things, Luke surrendered to Dean guiding him into the pack house, only marginally surprised when they followed the teenager with Luke’s work papers up the staircase. Luke hadn’t seen this part of the place before, and he tried not to gape. What was there to see, anyway? Predictably uniform white walls and hardwood floors stretched out when Luke reached the top of the stairs, doors lycans lacked the opposable thumbs to open in animal form noticeably absent. Lycans failed to grasp the concept of privacy so why bother with unnecessary obstacles inside the house? Blankets and pillows tangled on the floor in the first room Luke passed, but he recognized flannel shirts hanging on wall hooks as those worn by Nate and Vince at jobsites. Blue jeans rested in a neat stack underneath the shirts, next to a pair of sturdy boots. Red numbers glowing from a cheap digital alarm clock assured Luke lunch would be soon. Only Nate and Vince worked in town. This must be where they slept, out of everyone else’s way. The two wouldn’t disturb the pack when they left in the morning.
“Here, let me,” Dean said, removing the gentle hand from Luke’s lower back to open a battered oak door to the room in which the teen had been directed to carry the box.
Luke stumbled to a stop. He frowned. “Why is there a door?” he asked, confused.
“You’ll see.” Dean held it wide for Luke. “After you.”
An increasingly puzzled Luke stepped into a room cluttered with a maze of boxes, jumbled computer equipment, and heaps of khakis, the Henleys and polos Luke favored, and a Medusa’s clump of black dress socks. His heartbeat skipped at the mattress and box spring in the center of the chaos. Luke’s bed frame and headboard leaned against the wall and the sheets were the same hunter green silk Luke had made his bed with a day ago, one corner now smeared with dirt from a truck bed.
“I cleared out the space while you were in town.” Dean leaned against the flabbergasting door, shutting out the now empty-handed teenager. “I also ordered them to bring whatever you might need for your job and personal items here. This is your room, your den,” Dean said, gaze somber. “After today, no one may enter it without your permission and an explicit invitation.”
Luke quirked his lips. “Except you.”
Dean shook his head. “Not even me.” He exhaled. “Unpack and organize your possessions however you please. If you want to paint, we’ll help. If you prefer carpet to hardwood flooring or different curtains for the window, I’ll arrange it too. We want you to feel comfortable.”
“We?” Luke sank to the mattress, fingers smoothing over the familiar softness of his sheets.
“Yes.” Dean’s body tensed. “We. The whole family.”
Incredulity warmed Luke, wringing a chuckle from him. “Most of them haven’t formally met me yet.”
“They know who you are and look forward to getting to know you.” Dean tipped his head in wry acknowledgment. “As do I.”
The laugh bubbled out of Luke’s chest before he could squelch it. “Nice try.” He grinned. “You’re going to an awful lot of trouble for a mating unlikely to survive beyond your heat.”
Pushing off the door, Dean frowned. “You’ve already decided?”
Annoyance flared. “You’re a lycan and the pack’s patriarch. I’m just a human. I don’t get to decide.”
“Your father’s lycan and so, in part, are you.” Dean’s mouth pinched, his brows furrowing. “And you aren’t just anything.”
“Don’t pretend I have any say in what happens to me.”
“Of course you have a choice,” Dean argued. “Without the pull of intensifying lycan instincts, you have more opportunity to decide than I do.”
“Don’t pull the One True Mate crap on me. I may be human, but I’m not naive. Or stupid.” Luke kicked a stack of novels, which tumbled to the floor in scattering disarray. “Don’t let my reading material fool you. I look human, but I’m not as gullible as they are. I’m fully capable of distinguishing fated mate romantic fantasy from reality. You won’t be stuck with me more than a few weeks.”
Dean glowered. “I’m not stuck.”
“When your mating heat levels off, you’ll be free to mate with whoever you like. A short, slightly tubby human won’t rank high on your list. I’ll be lucky if you don’t drive me from the state.”
“According to you, I’ve gained a reputation for welcoming strays that reaches a thousand miles, from the Northeast to Florida.” Dean winged up an eyebrow. “Why would I force you to leave?”
“Because I’m human,” Luke yelled.
“You warned me not to mistake you for a human who would believe the fiction of destined mates.” Dean glanced at the jumble of romance novels. “You also insist I must reject you because you are human.” He glared at Luke, his lips thinning. “I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense.”
“If you knew anything about humans who have a lycan and human parent each, it makes perfect sense,” Luke roared in frustration.
“No. It doesn’t.” He arched a dark eyebrow. “Unless you are trying to confuse me?” He blinked at Luke’s indignant huff. “Ah,” he said, his voice warming to a silky purr as he straightened his spine. “You are more lycan than your physical traits suggest. Our mating heat has confounded you.”
Luke’s eyes rounded so wide, that they didn’t spring from his skull and roll across the floor was a miracle. “Wh-what?” When Dean strutted forward, hard body sculpting the cotton of his T-shirt and faded denim clinging to his muscled thighs, Luke shook off the sudden jolt of consternation. He lifted his chin. “I beg your pardon. I think as clearly today as I did a month ago, thanks.”
“Nate and Vince met you at work over a year ago. You’ve been watching us, haven’t you? Watching me.” Dean smiled, his damned lycan eyes glimmering yellow with lust. “My heat began last night, but yours triggered months ago. Poor baby, no wonder you’re addled.”
“I’m nobody’s baby.” Luke scrambled to the far end of the mattress, buying precious real estate between him and his predatory mate. “I’m not addled either.” Luke’s mouth watered with every bunch of tendon and sinew as Dean drew closer. Hunger for Dean’s kiss swamped him. “I’m—I’m—”
“Confused,” Dean said in fierce wonder, gazing down at Luke. “And terrified.” He cupped Luke’s cheek, his gaze sparkling tender amazement. “You don’t believe I want you.”
“It’s lust.” His breath catching, Luke fought the urge to lean into the caress. “You want sex.” Dean presented a temptation Luke couldn’t resist, the gentle reverence in Dean’s touch magical to Luke. Addicting. He rubbed his cheek into Dean’s hand, desperate for more. “I believe you liked fucking me.”
Planting his other palm at the center of Luke’s chest, he pushed Luke flat. Chuckling—how was it fair even his laugh was sexy?—Dean crawled on top of Luke, knifing a knee between Luke’s thighs to spread them. “Fucking is a good start.”
He’d been a goner the moment Dean had touched him. Luke lifted up to meet Dean’s mouth. He shivered at the lycan’s possessive growl and the insistent weight of Dean’s groin pinning him to the mattress. Maybe Dean was right. Luke felt addled. A little. He’d been too dazzled by Dean and the pack leader’s tragic history to consider the misfortunes that must have befallen the former strays Dean had welcomed, but his preoccupation paled against the unfurling ribbon of desire clouding his head and stirring his senses whenever they kissed.
He shouldn’t want Dean too much. Luke couldn’t rely on hm. Dean would send him away eventually.
He wanted Dean with a desperation that bordered on delirious.
Were Luke’s instincts more lycan than he, his parents, and the few he’d allowed close to him had guessed?
He couldn’t think about it or anything else while the muscled plane of Dean’s chest brushed his. Not when Dean’s hands fisted the sheets at either side of Luke’s shoulders, caging him. Dean tasted amazing, Dean’s mouth a banquet of rich coffee and the tang of wild game Dean had eaten recently. Luke could lap up the flavor of him all day, every day, forever. Happily. The aggressive slide of Dean’s tongue against Luke’s dizzied him. Had the lycan always smelled this marvelous? A mixture of musk and earthy sweat wafted in Luke’s nose, drugging him and spurring on his arousal.
Luke forgot to be careful.
Moaning in invitation, he brought his legs up to wrap them around Dean’s hips. Luke bowed his back, seeking and finding the glorious heat of him. He couldn’t remember stringing his arms around Dean’s waist, but was only glad for the chance to pull him close. Closer. Closer still, until the wonder of Dean’s body lay flush against Luke. Why had they wasted precious time touring the pack’s territory? Or accepted a stingy hour apart while Luke stripped his apartment of the silly possessions he’d collected? Things weren’t important. Clothes, dishes, Luke’s desk, all could be replaced. He judged the fiery heat they created together too valuable to be scorned with neglect and carelessness. The rigid length of his mate’s cock, defined by soft denim, pushed into his crotch. The groan vibrating Dean’s chest when Luke rocked his hips sang in Luke’s ears like an aria. He didn’t need a bed to be fucked hard, and they both wore too many clothes already. Why retrieve more clothing from town? He glided his hands under Dean’s shirt, skating his fingers across the taut stretch of his lover’s abdomen, and deemed lycan preferences for nudity a gift. A blessing. Dean should be naked as often as possible.
Dean must have agreed because he braced his weight on one arm and used the other to tug off his shirt. His own chest heaving with stuttering gasps, Luke tightened his stomach to raise, his attention focused on the flat disks of Dean’s nipples and how the pebbling nubs might feel on his tongue. Dean shoved him back into the mattress before Luke’s mouth reached his goal. Instead, Dean tore at Luke’s shirt.
They both groaned in protest at the sharp rap on the door. “What?” Dean demanded throatily. With Luke’s shirt gone, he pawed at Luke’s zipper.
“Jeremy found Luke’s printer and a bunch of network cables.”
“Leave it in the hall. We’ll bring it in later.” The metallic scritch of Luke’s zipper lowering tipped up the corners of Dean’s kiss-swollen lips in a devilish, triumphant grin.
“Much later,” Luke agreed, heart thumping crazily as he too scrambled to unfasten Dean’s jeans. “Want to suck on you,” he mumbled, shaking with how badly he craved Dean’s dick in his mouth.
“No.” Dean shoved Luke’s hands aside. He grabbed Luke’s khaki pants and jerked. The fabric slid down Luke’s hips to mid-thigh. “I’ll taste you first,” Dean said on a needy growl. “Then fuck you hard and deep.” He dipped his head and swallowed Luke’s jutting dick in one gulp.
The moist heat of Dean’s mouth staggered Luke. He screamed. His dick tingled, pleasure streaking along nerve endings Dean’s avid tongue stroked. Luke tossed his head back in agonized delight, his teeth gritting.
“Not gonna last if you keep that up.”
Dean’s answering hum resonated through Luke’s cock, rocketing his pleasure painfully high. He didn’t want to come. He needed to. Dean sucked, his cheeks hollowing while Luke stared, bewitched at the pink line of Dean’s lips. As soon as Luke’s orgasm gathered, like electric jolts at the base of his spine, Dean backed off. His head bobbed on Luke’s cock, but the tight pressure loosened. The dance of Dean’s tongue slowed. Dean pulled him back from the edge as skillfully as he had jetted Luke toward the speedy release Dean now denied him.
Shifting his grip to Luke’s squirming hips, Dean held him steady—motionless. Groin locked in the position Dean wanted, Luke had never felt so completely under a lover’s control. Luke whined his dismay, but his pulse also galloped. He liked Dean’s mouth on him, reveled in the power Dean effortlessly wrested away. Flexing his muscles didn’t pump his greedy cock farther into Dean’s hot wet mouth, but the grunt of satisfaction when Luke relaxed did. Dean opened his throat and sucked the head of Luke’s dick inside.
Game over.
Panting, Luke collapsed into the mattress. He surrendered. Fighting the swirling arousal was futile. Dean would do with Luke as he wished. If the lycan wanted to drive his human mate nuts with his agile tongue or torment Luke with the heady scrape of his teeth teasing his length, then Luke would welcome the insanity. He’d embrace every pleasure and the orgasm Dean refused him. Only giving in to Dean, entrusting the lycan with his body, mattered.
Husky moans slipped from Luke’s lips as Dean worked him, redoubling the sly stroke of his tongue. Sweet pressure built. The tempo of Luke’s throbbing cock fucking into Dean’s throat increased. The room disappeared in a white haze. Overwhelmed and frazzled, Luke could only sigh at the stab of thick fingers into his ass as Dean intensified the feverish delight concentrated at his groin. His ass burned at the invasion, but distantly. Who cared about such minor discomforts when Luke’s dick tingled with each of Dean’s rabid, consuming gulps? The sting as Dean shoved lube into Luke’s ass faded into the bliss of Luke’s shuddering release. He blacked out. His heart skipped a beat. Every nerve ending inside him cried out in an explosion of sizzling pleasure. Dean drank him down, slurping at Luke’s dick to drain every drop from Luke’s balls.
As soon as he had, Dean pulled off Luke’s dick with a loud pop. He slipped his slick fingers from Luke’s asshole and, with a snarl, flipped Luke on the mattress. Belly down, ass up, his gluey arms in a tangle, Luke groaned. The heat of Dean’s body engulfed him from his shoulder blades to his only partially bared thighs as the lycan mounted him. One thrust and Dean’s dick breached Luke.
The hurt of his ring stretching wasn’t unbearable, but too soon after his orgasm, the burn shocked him. He cried out. Fought to make his arms work.
He froze at the threatening scrape of teeth at his nape. “Submit,” Dean snarled, voice thick with lust. He pumped, driving his fat cock into Luke who winced but didn’t tense. He heeded the warning of Dean’s sharp teeth. He relaxed and pushed out.
Dean licked his neck in reward. “That’s it. Drag my dick inside you.”
Grunting with his effort to take Dean’s cock into him, Luke jerked when Dean guided Luke’s arms up and over his head.
Claws pricked his flesh as Dean manacled his wrists with his fingers and pushed them into the mattress. “Shh,” Dean said, moaning into Luke’s nape. “Hold still. Don’t want to tear you.”
Luke stiffened at the bulge of Dean’s knot pushing against his rim. Larger than last night, the swelling nature intended to tie them together once Dean’s dick had pumped into him had partly expanded, fat and turgid, while Dean had sucked Luke. His knot would rip Luke’s ass if he struggled. Blowing out ragged pants, Luke forced his muscles to relax. Though the sting grew with the stretch of his hole, Luke didn’t fight the discomfort. Exhausted, sore, head still spinning from his release, Luke ignored the small pain and focused instead on his greed for Dean’s semen spraying his guts. He craved the brand of his mate’s spend inside him. Dean moaned, hips rocking forward. Luke bit his lip, willing his ass to stretch as Dean’s claws scrabbled against the flesh of his wrists.
With a hoarse shout, Dean finished. The knot wedged inside Luke before swelling further, stuffing his ass full of his mate. His hole snapped tight around the swollen bulge of Dean’s knot, locking them together. Dean invaded him, and he wouldn’t withdraw until the semen boiling in his balls unloaded inside Luke’s body. Luke inhaled shallow breaths. He trembled violently, but nothing helped. He twitched, senses overloaded.
Dean kissed the crook of Luke’s neck in stupefied praise and longing.
Luke knew what to do. Though he shook, his mind a bleary snarl of stunned gratitude and exhaustion, Luke clenched his ass cheeks.
The tight grip of Luke’s ass around Dean’s eager cock wrung a winded moan from Dean. “More,” he demanded, breath warm on Luke’s skin. Unnecessarily, since Luke bunched his muscles to massage his mate’s dick again. A couple more times clamping down shattered Dean’s control. Dean stiffened, bucking his hips to cram his cock deeper while he shot. Semen sprayed into Luke in pulsing bursts. Within several heartbeats, Luke’s sense of fullness escalated, the lycan’s thinner and more voluminous cum packing into his ass and already leaking from Luke’s hole. The mattress would be sodden and Luke dripping before Dean finished inside him.
Satisfied he’d pleased his mate, Luke passed out.