by Marcy Jacks
Rowan had a tight grip on his own dick, trying to keep himself under control as the anticipation actually made his balls tighten up almost all the way into his body, and his cock ache with what almost felt like pain.
Finally, the large head of Dillon’s cock popped through Rowan’s entrance, but Rowan couldn’t sigh with relief yet. “I feel like I’m being stretched to oblivion!” he said through his teeth.
“Do you want me to stop?” Dillon asked, and he sounded like he was having trouble of his own keeping control of himself.
Rowan could tell right away that if he asked his mate to stop, he would be damning the man to a lot of pain in his private regions. “I can handle it,” he said.
He could handle it and he would, too.
But to his shock and horror, Dillon gently pulled his cock out of Rowan’s entrance, leaving him feeling incredibly empty and sore.
“No, I can do it,” Rowan said.
He had been considered a God in his time. He would be damned if he let something like this get the better of him.
“I believe you,” Dillon said. “I want you to get up on your knees.”
Rowan wasn’t entirely sure what his mate was doing, but he didn’t want any more time wasted than had already been, so he was quick to do was he was told.
“Good, now turn around and put your hands on the headboard of the bed,” Dillon said.
Now Rowan was beginning to understand. He turned around, gripped the wooden headboard, and pushed his ass out while looking over his shoulder. “Is this what you want?” Rowan asked.
Dillon’s hands were sliding across Rowan’s hips in a comforting fashion. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. Now you can ride me and choose some of the rhythm.”
As Dillon began pushing the tip of his dick back against Rowan’s tight entrance, Rowan was thinking that might be some good thinking on the part of his mate.
Perhaps it only seemed longer than it really was to get Dillon completely submerged inside of him because of the pain. He had done this before with another man, and then never done it again because it had hurt so much, but this was his mate, and Rowan was hoping that it would be different.
He grit his teeth and put up with it, however. Regardless of any pain, he wanted this with Dillon, and he was going to do it.
“Take your time,” Dillon said. “You can’t force your body to be ready for this, you just have to relax.”
“Relax, he says,” Rowan said, all but laughing out the words. “I don’t know how men ever thought this was a pleasurable act, or why they continued to try it if it hurt this much.”
“Because it gets better,” Dillon said, and he didn’t move. He didn’t thrust his hips, he just continued to hold on to Rowan, his arms wrapped loosely around Rowan’s middle while Rowan was sitting on the man’s lap with his cock all the way inside of him.
He wanted this to be good for his mate, and Rowan knew all about how unenjoyable the act of sex could be if his partner was in pain like this.
He didn’t want to show that off, so he did his best to take in deep breaths, and to deal with his pain little by little, just as Dillon told him to do.
Surprisingly, the pain did start to diminish, and his body began accepting the intrusion inside of him as though it was a natural thing.
“There you go,” Dillon said, and very slowly, very gently, he pulled back and pushed himself inside.
It was a short and shallow thrust, but Rowan’s cock was no longer less than half-hard between his legs as Dillon did so again and again.
There were small shocks of pain, but pleasure was slowly overcoming that and making him feel no discomfort at all.
“Touch yourself,” Dillon said. “Wrap your fingers around your dick and stroke it for me.”
“Yes,” Rowan said, doing as he was commanded.
It helped. The pleasure was completely overshadowing the pain now. It was still there, but now he was able to start enjoying himself.
“Not too hard and not too fast,” Dillon replied, and he pressed kisses along the side of Rowan’s throat and on his shoulders. “Keep in time with my hips. Start moving yours when you’re ready.”
So that was what he was doing. Dillon was thrusting and moving because he couldn’t stand to wait any longer, but he was hardly moving at all at the same time.
He wanted Rowan to decide the speed and the rhythm, and he was waiting for Rowan to do just that before things went any farther.
Rowan tested out how far he could move his hips before there was any pain, and it turned out the answer was not very far at all. His thrusts were hardly better than the ones that Dillon was making, but together, the pleasure grew and grew, building behind his stomach and inside of his balls.
Rowan moaned, periodically thrusting slightly harder, or a little faster.
He could feel his orgasm just out of reach, and he wanted to go faster to reach it, but at the same time, he did not want the sex to end so soon either. Orgasms were nice and all, but Rowan was a believer in the fact that the journey was always better than the destination.
“Yes, fuck me like that,” Rowan said.
Dillon tilted his head forward, and Rowan tilted his back so their lips could meet. Again and again they kissed.
“You like my cock inside you, don’t you?” Dillon asked, kissing him again.
“I could get used to it,” Rowan replied, and he sped up the motion of his hips.
They were hardly moving as fast or furiously as the night before, but they had built up a decent rhythm now that did have the bed squeaking from time to time.
“Oh, fuck, Rowan. I’m coming,” Dillon said.
“Do it. Mark me. Put your seed inside me and make me yours.”
Dillon stared at him, and he did.
He thrust faster than before, and it hurt enough to make Rowan grit his teeth through the pain, but he wanted it. He stroked his cock hard and fast so that his coming orgasm wouldn’t be lost, and it arrived much faster than he would have liked, but it was still there and still wonderful, even if it was a gentle release.
Dillon came hard inside of him, and Rowan relished the sensation of warmth flooding his inner walls.
His mate’s essence and his scent were now inside of him, and there was nothing that Rowan could have wanted more in his life. “That’s it,” he sighed as Dillon continued to rock himself back and forth, milking out every drop of himself until there was nothing left to give.
Dillon’s cock softened and remained inside of Rowan’s body. He was not a werewolf, and he wouldn’t have the power or adrenaline required to have so many erections within a certain time frame.
That was perfectly fine with Rowan. There was something beautifully intimate about his mate and lover still being inside of him, panting warm breath against his back, and all the while Rowan was feeling the urge to go back to sleep.
“Are you okay?” Dillon eventually asked.
Rowan took one of the man’s hands, brought it to his lips, and then kissed it. “Better than that.”
“Sex and marking people is important to werewolves, I guess.”
“Very. Now I feel like I belong to you.”
“Not in a bad way, right?” Dillon asked, and strength was starting to return to his voice.
Rowan chuckled. “No. I am hardly your slave and you are not mine. I still like the term, however. Belonging.”
Dillon sighed against Rowan’s back, and Rowan could hear the way his mate’s heart was starting to slow down. “Is it bad that I want a nap so soon after I woke up?”
“No, but after, we will have to discuss living arrangements, and the best ways of keeping you safe. I have family of my own. Three brothers and a nephew who is a few months old. You will like them.”
Rowan was also going to have to explain to Dillon what a luna werewolf was, and how they could become pregnant, but that could still wait a little longer.”
“My parents are going to want you to come over for dinner once I tell them about you,” Di
llon replied. “Will it be safe to do that?”
Rowan was becoming uncomfortable, so he pulled away and allowed Dillon’s soft shaft to slip out of him. The man’s dick was still shining because of the lubricant. He faced his mate. “We will make arrangements for that. I have to admit, I am shocked to learn that you still speak with your family. Most of the men and the few women in the pack I’ve come into contact with since waking are orphans whose parents have either been killed, or abandoned them because they prefer their own sex.”
“Yeah, I’m lucky that my parents and sister are both so good about it. They said they knew I was gay when I was six, and I really don’t want to give them up.”
“Then you won’t,” Rowan said. “I will do everything in my power to make sure that not only will you be safe, but your family as well. If you love them then I will, too, and they will have my protection, no matter how I can give it.”
Dillon smiled at him, and he reached for his face, pulling him forward for a kiss.
Then he frowned and pulled away.
“What is it?” Rowan asked. His heart began to slam as he thought that this was it. Dillon was going to decide that the risk was not worth it and ask to be left alone.
“This…I don’t know why I never noticed it before, but it’s bugging me now that I’ve realized it. What’s your last name? You never gave me one when we first met.”
Rowan sighed as his heart started beating relief through his veins. “I don’t have a last name. I was never a lord or a landowner either. Unless you count Rowan the Wolf as a full name, then I don’t have one.”
“Oh,” Dillon said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not,” Rowan replied. “Now, what say you and I go and prepare some breakfast? I think I need to walk off what you’ve done to my backside.”
Dillon laughed at that, and Rowan couldn’t help but smile at the sound. He wanted to wrap himself in that laugh and never leave it.
Unfortunately, breakfast was going to have to wait, as the next thing that Rowan heard was the sound of one of the windows outside of their room breaking.
Chapter Seven
Dillon had never been more scared of anything in his life when Rowan quickly left their bed, quietly ordering him to hide in the room and stay quiet, so he could go and investigate the noise.
Dillon was practically frozen with fear for the first few seconds that Rowan was out of the room, but then he quickly got moving. He doubted it was a raccoon that had broken the glass, and he was pissed off with himself for distracting Rowan with sex when they should have been preparing for this.
Rowan might be a werewolf God or whatever, so he could be naked and still have the advantage in battle, but Dillon was still a human with fragile bones and easily bruised skin. Clothes were probably a good idea for him at the moment.
He threw on the first things he could pick up. A red hoodie, a pair of jeans that weren’t too tight, and his socks and runners.
Perfect. If he had to run for his life, he could do it in these, but Rowan had told him to hide.
That was when the fighting and the yelling started up outside the door. Things sounded like they were breaking, and heavy objects, which Dillon realized were people when they screamed, banged into every wall outside. Some even into Dillon’s door.
Okay, okay, he had to think and keep his head. He’d taken a course for how to behave in moments of panic so he’d understand what his characters were thinking in situations like this. Just a few seconds of calm thought could spare his life.
Under the bed was out of the question, which left only the closet or the bathroom. Not very good places either. Rowan must’ve thought that he was going to come out the victor in whatever fight he was in, otherwise he wouldn’t have left Dillon with not so great hiding places.
Then something else smashed against the door, so hard and heavy that the wood cracked.
The sound of Mark’s voice, cheering on the other side, told Dillon that the fight wasn’t going that great, so Dillon rushed to the door and turned the lock.
“We got him, boys! Keep pumping more wolf’s bane!”
Dillon didn’t have to write paranormal romance to know that wolf’s bane was a bad thing.
Fuck! Was it Rowan who they’d slammed against the door?
“Tie him down. Tie him down!”
Either way, they had him, and they were going to come in here and take Dillon as well, no matter where he decided to hide.
Dillon went for the window and pulled the curtains aside. He didn’t see anyone there, so he opened it. Rowan said he had brothers, that he had a family who was just like him. They could help. Dillon just had to get back into town and find them. Someone had to know them!
It was easy for him to climb out the window, but when he was being grabbed when his feet were on the ground, he really started to panic.
A hand over his mouth, keeping him quiet, was for some reason a lot worse than the one that was on his throat.
“Thought you could sneak away from us, did you?”
Dillon launched his head back, and he heard the crunch as the back of his skull made contact with the man’s nose. Ew.
React. He had to react. While his attacker was grabbing at his nose, Dillon reached for his gun holster, which was out in plain sight. He grabbed the weapon, and the damn thing had a suppressor on it.
He was pretty sure those things were illegal, but a group of hunters who attacked and killed people probably didn’t care at all about that.
The man was so focused on the blood flowing from his nose, and his own rage, that he clearly hadn’t noticed that Dillon had taken his weapon, otherwise he wouldn’t have charged, and Dillon wouldn’t have been forced to pull the trigger.
His mind blanked out right then. That was the only explanation he had for what happened, because maybe shooting someone in the face was just too gory for his brain to want to process. Really, he didn’t remember any of it. He had no actual recollection of the man’s head exploding with blood going anywhere, or any of the stuff that Dillon had seen in the movies and thought should happen when a man was shot in the head.
Nope. It was a blank, because when Dillon snapped out of it, he was running as fast as his feet could take him through the woods.
Oh yeah, he’d forgotten about the tires of his car being slashed. At least his subconscious brain hadn’t forgotten about that and Dillon hadn’t woken up inside of the car starting it up. That would have been a disaster, and he was still holding the gun, which was also a good thing.
If every horror movie he’d ever watched, ever, taught him anything, it was that he should never drop a weapon after acquiring it.
Even though he couldn’t remember shooting anyone, or any other bloody bits flying all over the place, and there was no doubt in his mind that was what happened, his adrenaline was pumping incredibly fast, as if he could remember it.
His legs were working great as he practically flew through the trees, but he couldn’t feel his arms as they pumped at his sides. Likely they would be shaking when he came to a stop. That wasn’t happening unless he had a killer cramp first. Mark was a lunatic, and way dangerous. He wasn’t just some overly clingy guy, but he was genuinely out of his mind, and Dillon had to save Rowan before they killed him.
What usually felt like such a short drive seemed to take forever, even as he ran so quickly. He didn’t stop, even when the killer cramp came over his body because Mark had to know that he had been in the house. Assumed he was in the house, at least, and when he and the rest of his hunter friends went searching his room for him and found nothing, just to go outside and discover the dead body that was waiting for them, well, he was going to be pissed.
Then he was going to start tracking him down. Dillon hadn’t heard any car engines and he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen any vehicles either before he’d blacked out. Mark and his friends must’ve come in on something else and ditched them before sneaking up to the cabin. Something off-road that was likely fast
er than the speed Dillon was running at.
Luckily, the sight of the highway town came into view, and Dillon sighed as he pushed through the lightning strikes that were making his abs feel tight and like they were on fire.
At least he still had some of his old runner training, otherwise he might not have made it this far. If he lived through this, then he was going to start training again, that was for damn sure, because his sides were killing him.
The diner. He had to get to the diner. The police station was miles away from here, and he needed a public phone.
Dillon stopped with his hand on the glass door. Fuck, no. He couldn’t do that. What was he going to tell them? That his ex-boyfriend was a hunter of werewolves and didn’t get along with his new werewolf boyfriend? That he’d shot someone with the gun he was still holding in his hand?
No. He was going to have to stick with his original plan of just contacting Rowan’s brothers. He just hoped that someone in here would know them.
He considered himself lucky that no one noticed the weapon he was holding, and he tucked it into the back of his pants, folding his shirt over it and sending a prayer to someone above that he wouldn’t shoot himself like that.
He opened the door to let himself in, and he sighed when the air conditioning hit his hot face. He probably stank to high hell, but he didn’t care who he offended with his smell as he walked over to the counter.
Some people stared at him as he panted for breath, but Dillon’s only mission was to get the attention of Warren, the nice waiter who’d served him and Rowan the last time he was here.
“Uh, can I help you?” Warren asked, but as he spoke he was also turning around, grabbing a glass, scooping ice into it, and filling it with water.
The cold glass was in Dillon’s hands before Warren even finished speaking, and Dillon drank half of it down before he could start talking.
“You remember me from the last time, right?” he asked, and then took another sip of water.
“Yeah, you were in here with Rowan,” Warren said.