“Why do lycan parents choose names that are a single syllable?” Jeremy asked in the pack kitchen. “Why aren’t you a Nathan?” He tipped his coffee mug at Nate. “Or why your buddy Vince isn’t a Vincent?”
“Long names are more difficult to enunciate when lycan mouths fill with sharp teeth,” Luke said, up to his elbows in suds at the sink. “Because when whelps push parental buttons, partial shifts happen.” After putting Marvin Beecham’s hurtful and depressing bigotry in their rearview mirror, Luke had finished his workday with anticlimactic tedium. The foreman of Nate’s construction crew passed on meeting Luke for breakfast to receive payroll, requesting Luke send checks to the jobsite via Nate instead, and that ended Luke’s deliveries. They’d headed home.
Hate was hate. Marvin’s brand of prejudice, the most despicable kind, sneaked under the social net of laws designed to protect humans and lycans both. Luke despised his client for it. Regardless of his disappointment, no matter the unfairness of losing business because of who he slept with, Luke’s relief nevertheless amplified. Because Marvin posed no physical danger to him, Dean, and the pack. He was loathsome, but he wasn’t the type to toss Molotov cocktails. Luke didn’t fear him.
Besides, moving into the pack house meant he could sublet his apartment. As long as Dean didn’t kick Luke out when their heat tapered, Luke could afford to be choosier about his clients. He wouldn’t have to work for assholes like Marvin Beecham to make the rent.
Good riddance.
“You’re forgetting both my parents are human dominants, and their parents before them. My folks refused to bend to the naming custom and probably had different views on punishment than your parents did.” Jeremy nudged Luke with one hip, the dishtowel to dry with draped negligently over his shoulder. “When I misbehaved, I earned a spanking.”
Luke gulped.
Nate, industriously drying and putting away the dishes Luke washed, grimaced. “I’ll never understand human violence directed at their young.”
“Me neither.”
Finished with glasses and plates—from Luke’s apartment to celebrate the anniversary of his first week on Yeager land—Luke groped for the cutlery he’d soaked at the bottom of the sink. Dean had indulged him. Surprisingly, he’d agreed to forgo the typical stainless steel tableware for dinner and had assigned the chore of cleaning up after dinner to Nate and Jeremy too, a mild rebuke for needlessly prolonging Luke’s work in town. Luke trusted neither Nate nor Jeremy with his breakables, though, especially while the two were mating. Distracted lycans were clumsy lycans.
“My dad’s growl alone punished me and my brothers,” Luke said. His stomach still flipped at the memory of his father’s sound of parental displeasure. “We would’ve done anything to avoid a growl from Dad. Anything.”
Jeremy’s brows beetled. “You look so human, I sometimes forget.”
Scrubbing forks, Luke glanced at him. “Forget what?”
“How lycan you are.” Jeremy shrugged. “Sometimes more lycan than me.”
“Uh-huh.” Luke wasn’t lycan. Hadn’t that been his problem his whole life? He couldn’t shift. His senses were as dull as any human’s. He glared at the sponge with which he washed the cutlery. “What color is this?” he asked Jeremy.
“That’s not what I mean.” Jeremy’s lips thinned.
“Red. How about my shirt?” When Jeremy simply glared at him, Luke scowled. “It’s green. But you can’t distinguish green from red, can you? Don’t think I never noticed you’re colorblind.”
Jeremy stiffened. “Humans can be colorblind too.”
Luke nodded. “Which is why I didn’t suspect you while we were neighbors, but you aren’t colorblind the same way humans are. You can’t discern the shades and hues they do.” Anger at his friend’s lies resurged inside him. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize—”
The crash of shattering glass exploded through the kitchen, and when Luke whipped around, Nate stared guiltily at shards of ceramic that until a few moments ago had been one of Luke’s prized Fiestaware dinner plates.
Each of his eight place settings had cost Luke thirty-five bucks!
His ire piled onto Luke’s justifiable outrage at Jeremy’s duplicity. Adding Marvin’s earlier hatefulness redlined Luke’s temper. Bitter fury roared through him, swift and intense. He fisted the stupid red sponge nobody in the house except him could see as anything besides brown and fumed.
Startling at the very lycan-like snarl twisting Luke’s lips, Nate rapidly crouched to snatch at the biggest chunks of broken ceramic. “You upset Jeremy. His scent diverted my attention for just a few seconds,” he said, voice desperate. He stared at the debris. “I can fix it.”
“How? Remelt the pieces in a kiln? You shattered it,” Luke said, his rage swelling his chest and, at the same time, catching his breath. He threw the damn sponge into the soapy water, which sprayed from the sink in a chaotic tsunami splashing the counter and a strategically placed window offering a view of the backyard. “You know how important this was to me,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at a chagrined Nate. “I don’t need good dinnerware at every meal, but on the infrequent occasions I would like—the set didn’t survive intact for a single moon cycle,” he roared in frustration.
“He’s sorry.” Jeremy scrambled to his lover. He crouched. “No, stop, you’ll cut yourself,” he said, snatching the towel from his shoulder while he balanced his coffee mug in his other hand. “We’ll need a broom and dustpan for the slivers, but the bigger chunks can go on this.” He smoothed out the towel next to the debris on the floor while Nate leaped to his feet, gaze panicked.
Jeremy’s calm, collected rationale ratcheted Luke’s livid wrath higher. “Why?” he shouted, the furor of his resentment and exasperation like a nuclear bomb detonating inside him. “Why bother trying to fit?”
Glaring at him, Jeremy coolly let his grip on the coffee mug loosen. “Whoops,” he said, deadpan.
Luke’s jaw dropped as the innocent mug cracked and shattered on the floor, spilling a flood of steaming coffee in the debris and compounding the wreckage.
“Oh, look. How careless of me. Mating heats are such a distraction, aren’t they? Jangles everyone’s composure.” Jeremy pushed to his feet beside a flummoxed Nate. Jeremy reached into a back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He opened the billfold and peering inside, withdrew a crisp ten-dollar note. “Still, I broke it. I should pay for a replacement. Will this do?”
Gritting his teeth, Luke glared at the money. “It’s an ordinary mug. Not name-brand like my Fiestaware. Ten is too much.”
“The extra is for the inconvenience my negligence has caused you,” he said and shoved the money into Luke’s palm.
When Nate didn’t take the hint, Jeremy elbowed his gut. Unfreezing, Nate patted his back pockets and stared at Jeremy. “I don’t carry money at home,” he said.
With an exasperated sigh, Jeremy extracted a pair of twenties from his wallet and gave them to Nate. “You owe me.” He nodded to Luke.
Anger dissipating into a cloud of confusion, Luke accepted that money too. He crushed the bills in a fist. “It’s not that easy,” he told Jeremy.
“My fifty bucks and fifteen minutes at the store by the interstate argue otherwise. If you want, Nate and I will also pick up the replacement for you,” Jeremy said, raising his voice above Nate’s dismayed whine. “He’s sorry and wants to make up for breaking something important to you.”
“I do,” Nate agreed, voice grudging.
“A lycan shopping in a human store is a worthy penance, don’t you think? Doesn’t get less complicated, bud.”
“He’s as colorblind as you are. Probably pick the wrong color. I’ll do it,” Luke said, shoving the money into the front pocket of his khakis. “Some things aren’t as easy to replace.”
Jeremy shook his head, blond hair curling at his ears. “Doesn’t mean we should stop trying. You need to let them try.”
When had they stopped arguing about his Fiestaware? Emotions Luke couldn’t hope to identify twisted and whirled inside him, the turmoil daunting by its familiarity. “Compromising won’t work unless both parties try.” Luke swallowed the lump in his throat. “They have to want to try.”
“Who says Dean doesn’t?” Jeremy snorted in disgust. “The man has been fighting like crazy to carve out a place for you in his family, in his life. You’re too blind to see it.”
Shock froze Luke where he stood. Locked the air in his lungs.
Moving to the pack house and mating with Dean had demanded sacrifices. Luke had returned to wearing layers to stay warm. Until and unless Dean and Luke committed to each other beyond their heat, Luke as newest to the family ate last at every meal, albeit usually handfed by Dean to take the sting from the lowliness of his position. He couldn’t leave Yeager land without an escort, which grated after enjoying fourteen independent years answering only to himself. Visiting his couch in the storage room by the kitchen also sucked.
Hadn’t Dean made concessions, though? He’d hung a goddamn door inside the pack house for Luke, providing a room outfitted for human comfort that also catered to Luke’s desire for privacy. Luke couldn’t be sure the lycan had done it out of deference to Luke’s human inhibitions and insecurities—they hadn’t talked about it. They’d been mating a week. They hadn’t discussed a thousand things yet. Plus, Dean still occasionally fucked Luke outside and in other rooms in the house while pack members looked on, which to Luke, muddled the man’s motivation for the gift of a private mating den. Clear evidence of a strong pair bond heartened lycans, however. Time alone, only the two of them, catered to Luke’s needs, but Dean’s family would need more than a closed bedroom door to be at ease. Their worry for Dean, as patriarch, necessitated public reinforcement of Luke and Dean’s ardor, showing those concerns were unfounded.
Dean had compromised.
He’d sought to include Luke in tasks to support the pack too. They’d hiked for hours searching for Dean’s ferals. The pack leader had to comprehend a stranger in human form approaching them too soon had spooked them. Luke had been lucky the skittish wolves had introduced themselves by allowing him to meet them the day of Dean’s tour. Dean persisted in trying to locate them again. Perhaps because giving Luke a responsibility inside the family, talking to his ferals, reassured Luke of belonging?
Lycan’s didn’t celebrate birthdays or anniversaries.
Yet, Dean had marked the milestone of Luke’s first week on Yeager land with a feast of braised rabbit, and Dean, not Luke, had suggested serving the meal on Luke’s Fiestaware.
If Dean only tolerated this mating for the sake of his heat as Luke feared, the lycan had committed to a perplexing number of unnecessary comforts on Luke’s behalf. If he hated the human side of Luke, he’d nonetheless knocked on doors, spooned with Luke in a human bed every night, and set free desires that proved Dean wanted him, not only the lycan traits Luke increasingly felt secure enough to show but also the human instincts that made Luke different. Dean had liked and encouraged it all.
Mystified, Luke leaned against the sink for support, the water his temper and the thrown sponge had splashed from it wetting the cotton khakis at his butt. “Oh my God, he’s courting me.”
“I work with humans every day. I know they aren’t this stupid.” Nate stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Of course Dean is chasing you.”
Jeremy patted Nate’s bulging arm. “The mix of lycan and human instincts can sometimes bewilder us.” Jeremy lifted his chin toward Luke. “He’s been confounded by it during their heat from the beginning.”
“By sunrise after the full moon, Dean recognized your unique worth. We all did.” Nate stared at Luke. “He sensed your doubts and fears as clearly as the rest of us, and he has been obsessive in his attempts to demonstrate you are as welcome as any stray.” His lips curved. “Human or lycan, you are wanted. Accepted.” His mouth hardened. “You, meanwhile, questioned his every overture. Suspected him and us. To him, your resistance is frightening.”
Luke had mistrusted Dean’s motive to commit to him after their heat every moment, at every turn, but was it possible Dean nurtured fears about losing Luke too? “But he hasn’t marked me,” Luke said over the buzzing in his ears. “Nothing except his scent. Not a scratch or bruise. Not one bite.”
Nate snorted. “Have you asked him to?”
“Why would I?” Lips tightening, Luke shook his head. “Lycans don’t invite marking. They just do it. Mating bites and a few overenthusiastic bruises are natural.”
“Not for a lycan wary of alarming a baffled but volatile human mate.” Jeremy smirked. “Especially a lycan aware of his human mate’s past experiences with an abusive lycan asshole.”
Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, Luke contemplated Dean as a mate nervous of his sway over Luke. He’d never given Dean cause to distrust his physical attraction. As lusty as Dean had been, Luke had never turned him away and had sometimes initiated sex too. That was just their heat, though, wasn’t it? The confidences Dean had pushed Luke for suddenly made more sense. Dean had made his choice. When their heat ended, he’d decided to commit to a pair bond. He’d selected Luke as his bondmate.
“I need to show him I want him too,” he mumbled under his breath. “That I’m not scared of him.”
Both Nate and Jeremy nodded in unison. “You do,” they said.
Agitated, Luke scrambled around the desk area of his room—his mating den—filing paperwork he’d taken with him into town for the week’s payroll delivery. He should have completed the task when they’d arrived home, but Dean had wanted a detailed report as soon as Nate had parked Jeremy’s Sentra in the driveway. Luke’s mate had grilled him, Nate, and Jeremy on every word spoken to Luke and each smile or frown directed at them. Dean’s glower had intensified with the news of Marvin Beecham’s rabid intolerance and dissecting that incident had sucked up the hours before dinner, then after which Luke had insisted on helping to clean up in his doomed effort to save his Fiestaware. Luke didn’t like to think of himself as fussy, but about his business? His career? He wouldn’t be able to relax until he’d fulfilled his professional responsibilities for the week. Unpacking his travel tote of confidential documents and laying aside his stack of quarterly tax forms for the next day’s mail came first. After work, he’d be free to play.
Seeming to understand Luke’s dedication, Dean sprawled on the bed, watching Supernatural on Luke’s tablet. A diehard fan of the show, Luke owned every season on blu-ray and had also purchased the show for instant streaming via Prime. He’d introduced his mate to the fun when a new episode had aired a few days ago. While Luke had a few difficult moments clarifying the show’s image of shape shifters as villains, Dean had grudgingly admitted Supernatural’s shifters were completely different than the reality of lycans. Once Dean had realized the series exercised extreme creative license for all non-humans, not lycans alone, he was a goner. Streaming Season 2 after only three days attested to the pack leader’s obsessive delight. With a fair degree of amusement, Luke figured Dean sharing the same first name as one of the show’s heroes probably helped.
“Where is the angel?” Dean glared at Luke’s tablet.
“I told you. Castiel and the others aren’t introduced until the next season,” Luke said, placing the final 941 form on top of the others. “Wait for Gabriel. The episodes featuring him as Loki, the trickster, are epic.”
Stare glued to the digital screen, Dean grunted.
Work complete, Luke nudged his plastic travel bin under his desk. He pivoted and leaned against it, studying his scowling mate. Nerves fluttered like butterflies in his stomach.
By anyone’s standards, lycan or human, Dean truly was a prime specimen of a man. Luke couldn’t ascribe his appeal simply to the dense muscle filling out his mouth-watering physique, generously displayed in naked abandon on Luke’s bed. Most lycans were powerfully built. Dean’s bulging arms, broad shoulders, and brawny chest narrowing to the sexy six-pack defining his abdomen weren’t remarkable for lycans. Neither was the thick tangle of hair on his pecs, on his trim legs, and in the treasure trail leading to the wild bush of pubic hair at his groin. His skin glowed a healthy tan from his work outdoors, but other men earned a living under the sun.
Did the edgy draw begin with the ferocity of Dean’s scowl? No lycan yellow glinted in his black eyes at the moment, but trembling, Luke remembered how Dean’s stare felt when his lover’s lust flared and his beast rose close to the surface. Dean’s steady, focused attention never failed to melt Luke’s bones and catch Luke’s breath. Perhaps the sly intelligence in Dean’s gaze enraptured Luke or Dean’s kind compassion. Luke had never enjoyed a more giving lover, in bed and out.
“Dean?” he mustered the courage to ask.
“Hmm?” Dean answered, a vague hum of acknowledgment, his concentration on the tablet.
Luke swallowed the worry clogging his throat. “I think you should bite me.”
Dean whipped his head up, those gorgeous dark eyes lighting up with lycan yellow glimmers in an instant. His body tensed, a buffet of sinewy strength and dominance for Luke’s fixated ogling. Warmth flooded Luke’s cheeks, but he couldn’t tear his engrossed fascination away. Didn’t want to.
Never wanted to.
“What?” Dean asked, still as marble.
Luke lowered his hands to front pocket level, forgetting Dean had turned up the thermostat in Luke’s room so Luke would be comfortable naked in their mating den if nowhere else. Without pockets into which he could shove nervous fists, Luke fidgeted.
“You’re committed to making this mating work, right?” He gulped. “After our heat is over, I mean.”
“I want a pair bond.” A baffled line creased Dean’s brow. “I haven’t made that abundantly clear?”
Shifting his weight on his feet, bare toes curling on the oak floor, Luke nodded. “You’d be stupid not to want me as a permanent mate,” he said, mustering as much bravado as he could. “My business is still growing, but I’ll add a lot to financially supporting us. You’d have connections out West when the teens and whelps are ready to stretch their legs by fostering with other packs.” His stomach flipped as he ticked off the advantages. “And, as a human dominant, I’ll be more readily accepted by humans in town and would speak on your behalf should conflicts arise.”
“Those are valid arguments for adopting you into this family, and I could list many more.” Dean nodded, but his lush mouth thinned. He set the tablet aside. “None require me to bond with you.”
Poise crumbling, Luke pushed off the desk and sat next to Dean on the bed. “But you like me a little? Even though I’m mostly human.”
“I like you a lot.” Snatching Luke’s hand, Dean’s frown gentled to a small smile. “Because you are mostly human, not in spite of it.”
“I like you too.” Luke threaded his fingers with Dean’s and squeezed. “Which is why you should bite me.”
Dean huffed in disapproval. “Are you still rattled about that human asshole?”
“No.” Luke stiffened, surprise bursting inside him. “Marvin never entered my mind.”
“Losing business because of our bonding without the external signs of my commitment to you...” Dean sighed. “I’d understand.” He glared. “I wouldn’t do it, but I grasp why you might consider physical marking of greater importance.”
Affronted, Luke tried and failed to pull his hand free. “Do you?”
Grip like a vise, Dean stubbornly yanked Luke closer. “If not the human—” He blinked, his jaw hardening. “Jeremy. He’s been goading you.”
“Yes. Sort of. Er... not really?” With a startled oomph, Luke relented and stretched out next to Dean on the bedding. The lycan rolled to his side, inserting a hairy thigh between Luke’s.
“Don’t let him pressure you into anything you aren’t comfortable with. Jeremy Cartwright is determined to join the pack, but unlike you, he’s been too scared to ask. So scared, most of the time he’s denying his human likes and instincts, which have occasionally set you at odds with the pack. He fights too hard to fit in, and that damages developing a bond with Nate beyond their heat. The shakier their relationship grows, the more desperate Jeremy becomes. He believes, with you solidly bonded to me, his place with us will be fait accompli. Rather than confronting his fear of rejection, he hopes to ride your coattails into the pack so the stronger our relationship appears, the happier he is.” Dean snorted. “He’s as neurotic as a cocker spaniel. Don’t let his insecurities provoke yours.”
“That’s not it at all.” Luke relaxed into Dean’s embrace. He lifted his fingers to brush Dean’s soft lips. “I’ve been confused. Dazzled by mating with you.”
Against Luke’s caress, Dean’s mouth curved. “Your lycan instincts are stronger than your human traits suggest, and I’m told the contradicting urges, human and lycan, can create a temporary daze during mating heats.” Dean kissed Luke’s fingertips. “You’ll feel steadier soon.”
“Jeremy and Nate have been helping me puzzle us out, make sense of what I’m seeing and feeling,” Luke said. “They aren’t pressuring me. I know what I want.” His mouth quirked. “I may not always understand it, but that doesn’t lessen the want.”
“Nate? What does he have to do with anything?” Dean’s dark eyes narrowed. “He’ll say or do whatever it takes to repent for destroying your human cup.”
“Jeremy shattered the mug. Nate broke a plate.” Luke squirmed, edging his hips into Dean’s groin, and a shudder ripped through him when Dean’s hard length rubbed against Luke’s dick. “Do you think I’m fragile, Dean?” he asked, trying a different angle to make Dean understand. “Like the plate.”
“A plate can be replaced. You can’t.”
Luke moved Dean’s arms from Luke’s waist to his ass. He flattened Dean’s palm, splaying fingers that spontaneously flexed to dig into the fleshy muscle. “I like that answer,” he said on a silky purr, wriggling to encourage Dean to thrust against him. Fortunate for him, Dean indulged Luke every chance he got. “That isn’t, however, what I asked you. Are you afraid you’ll hurt me?”
“Aren’t you?” Dean tightened his grasp on Luke’s ass and pushed, guiding Luke into a slow and steady rock that grinded their cocks beautifully. Luke’s body sang. “I won’t hurt you. Not like he did,” Dean promised, breathless as desire built.
“He beat me.” Shaking his head, Luke wallowed in the flush heating his sensitive skin. “A mating bite isn’t the same. Scratches and bruises during sex aren’t the same.” Luke nuzzled Dean’s neck and licked, tasting salty sweat. “I’m ready. I want to wear your marks, proving I’m yours. I crave it.”
“Bites still hurt.” Dean shivered. “I won’t risk anything that could prompt you to run away.”
“Do I look like I’m running?” Laughing, Luke pinched the skin of Dean’s throat between his teeth and clamped his jaws. Hard.
“You’ve been running for fourteen years. Why stop now?” Dean groaned, hips reflexively pumping into Luke. “Shit, do that again.”
Biting down, Luke obeyed his mate. He didn’t break the skin, his human teeth more dull than the pointy lycan teeth nature designed for ripping and tearing, but the satisfaction of leaving a noticeable bruise thrilled Luke. Judging by Dean’s responding moan, the mark thrilled Dean too.
“Did my bite hurt?” Luke laved the flesh he’d abused with his tongue. “But you still want another.”
“Yes,” Dean said on a hiss, rutting against Luke restlessly.
“The quick stab of pain doesn’t matter to you. Because you need my marks too.” Luke complied, locking his hungry mouth like a vise higher on Dean’s neck, reveling in the swell of Dean’s knot forming and rubbing against Luke’s eager cock. His hole spasmed in anticipation of Dean’s dick stuffing him full. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can count your fingers by the bruises on my hips after,” he said, voice husky on Dean’s hot skin, “and I want your teeth inside me when you come.” He clamped his teeth down, rejoicing in his mate’s long groan and the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.
Finally, Dean’s control snapped. He shoved Luke, roughly rolling him onto his stomach. Shaky fingers pulled Luke’s plug free of his ass and without preamble, Dean blanketed Luke with his body. Prone, helpless, Luke shouted out his relief as Dean fucked into him. Even with the plug stretching Luke for his mate’s pleasure, the burn consumed him, but no more fiercely than Luke’s lust. The ferocity of Dean’s arousal stoked fires deep within Luke, whose clawless fingers curled into his sheets. Dean’s were not as gentle. The sharp points tipping Dean’s fingers stabbed into Luke’s hips, the sting dizzying. Dean’s claws sinking into Luke’s muscles to anchor Luke in place stripped the air from Luke’s lungs.
“Yes,” he cried out as, fully aroused, Dean’s knot jammed against Luke’s hole.
The snarl against his shoulder blade warned Luke to take it, to accept the swollen bulge into his body, and lost in hazy lust, Luke could not refuse. He pushed out, fighting to relax. He desperately needed, almost as frantically as Dean who, with a hoarse yell, crammed his knot past the ring of Luke’s tingling ass. Luke’s hole gripped tight, locking Dean’s fat dick inside.
Heart pounding, senses swirling, Luke shivered at the scrape of Dean’s incisors against his sweaty skin. “Ready to come, my mate?” Dean growled, but didn’t pause for an answer. Which was fortunate because Luke couldn’t form a coherent thought to reply anyway. Dean simply struck, teeth impaling the meat of Luke’s shoulder as ruthlessly as his cock pierced Luke’s ass.
Luke screamed.
Pain rocketed from his torn flesh, but his overstimulated senses couldn’t process it. The bliss of Dean’s knot filling him and the marvelous rub of Dean’s dick against his prostate left room in Luke’s reeling mind for nothing else. Blood trickled, thick and wet, from his shoulder blade, escaping Dean’s hot mouth, but Luke couldn’t care. The punishing grip of Dean’s claws staggered him. Dean released one hand at Luke’s hip to brace against Luke’s headboard, and the extra leverage pushing Dean’s dick impossibly deeper dragged Luke’s orgasm out of him. Pleasure exploded, violent and consuming. His vision grayed.
Dean’s groan of completion echoed distantly in Luke’s ears as his own passion swamped him. Cock trapped against the comforter by Luke’s belly, Luke shot. He jerked, his balls emptying into the bedding as Dean’s semen spurted into Luke’s hole. Luke rode the waves of his release, tired but sated.
Triumphant.
When Dean released his bite, Luke’s shoulder throbbed painfully, but Luke mourned the loss nevertheless. He grunted at Dean collapsing atop him. Dean’s weight sank Luke’s boneless body farther into the mattress.
Enjoying the trickle of his mate’s thinner but more voluminous cum wetting and spilling down his crack, Luke couldn’t have been more pleased. Did any grander wonder exist? Dean’s moans praised him, the jet of his cock into Luke’s body electrified him. The bite at his shoulder and bruises Luke could already feel coloring his hips promised Dean was his, just as the marks Luke had left on Dean’s throat confirmed his desire for and claim on Dean.
Satisfaction emptied and exhausted them both.
Muscles gluey, Luke didn’t bother trying to move. He sucked in a harsh gasp when Dean’s deflating knot finally eased enough for his mate to end the tie by sliding his dick from Luke’s well-used ass. He didn’t squirm at Dean’s fumbling search of the bedding, nor the nudge of the plug returning to his sore hole. Dean pushed it inside with a rewarding pat on Luke’s butt after the toy lodged in place.
Dean kissed the bite he’d made. Tenderly. With reverence and gratitude. “I destroyed your headboard,” he confessed.
When Luke glanced up, filler spilled from four long scratches rending the fabric. “You did.” He chuckled. “Guess you’ll have to replace it.”
Dean wrinkled his nose, but said, “I guess I will.”
Luke smiled and stretched to limber his overtaxed muscles, wincing as the bite on his shoulder throbbed. “You’re stuck with me until this wound mends,” he said, the miracle of that flooding him with lazy contentment, “and in a human dominant, injuries need longer to heal.”
Harrumphing, his mate settled beside Luke, and when that wasn’t close enough for Dean’s liking, Dean pulled Luke into his arms. Replete, they grinned at each other. “You bit me too.” Dean’s dark eyes brimmed with gratification and his happiness. “You’re not getting rid of me either. If you’ll have me, this mating is it for both of us. We’re bonding.”
“Forever?” Luke whispered, but the confirmation had been writ by teeth in their flesh.
Tipping Luke’s chin up, Dean sealed their bond with his kiss. “I promise.”
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