by Lynn Hagen
Dorian could see the outline of Rick’s erection through his jeans and his own hard shaft pulsed at the sight. Dorian ground his cock into the bed, wishing Rick would hurry, and praying he took his time.
It was like a sweet, slow torture that Dorian was enjoying.
Rick twisted his wrist and the snap on his jeans was undone. Dorian’s eyes were glued to the man’s groin, waiting anxiously to see his mate’s cock exposed.
Dorian kicked his feet up, crossing them at the ankles, grinding his cock further into the bed. “Come on already, show me the prize.”
Rick’s chuckle was deep, sensuous, and downright evil. His lowered the zipper, but only a fraction. “You want to see this?”
Dorian swallowed when he saw the head of Rick’s cock poking out from the man’s underwear. His mouth watered for a taste of the glistening pre-cum sliding down the bulbous head. “Hell, yeah.”
Reaching behind him, Dorian traced his crease, giving Rick a show of his own. Two could play at this naughty game. His mate’s eyes immediately zeroed in on Dorian’s fingers as it sank down between his cheeks to play at his hole.
“I thought I was giving you a show?” Rick asked, his eyes turning to liquid fire.
Dorian gave him a wicked grin. “You are. I’m merely touching myself as I watch you. You have that kind of effect on me, Mr. Marcelo.”
Sinking his finger into his ass, Dorian inwardly chuckled when Rick’s hand faltered, and then the man was shoving his jeans down his legs, kicking them aside.
Now all the man had to do was get rid of his damn underwear and Dorian could ogle Rick’s muscled body unhindered.
It seemed the man knew this, because he walked to the bed, underwear still securely around his waist.
Dorian was going to shoot the guy.
There was teasing, and then there was outright torture. Being tortured was fun, but only for a little while. His cock was so hard and heavy that Dorian was done playing. He wanted to be fucked hard and fast.
Pumping his finger in and out of his ass, Dorian gave Rick a worthy show. He moaned, his breath hitched, and then he began to hump the bed.
With his heart racing—because finger-fucking himself was driving Dorian close to climax—he tucked his knees under his chest, showing Rick just what he wanted.
And there went the underwear.
Dorian nearly laughed with satisfaction. He had won this round. Rick palmed his cock, smacking Dorian on the chin with the head. “You don’t play fair, gatito.”
Dorian tried to follow the cock with his mouth, but Rick had other ideas. He strode around the bed and climbed on, settling behind Dorian.
“I never play fair when you are taking too damn long,” he replied and then bit his bottom lip when Rick’s lubed finger joined his. The pleasure was almost agonizing.
“I’ll have to remember that,” Rick said right before he leaned forward and nipped Dorian’s ass cheek. Dorian yelped, but instead of moving away, he pressed his ass into Rick’s mouth.
The man did have a magical mouth, after all.
Dorian gave a throaty moan when Rick teased him with his lips. They slid down Dorian’s cheek and then began to kiss at his hole. Maybe he didn’t win this round like he thought because Rick was back to torturing him all over again.
“Okay, I give. Will you fuck me already?”
His skin vibrated as Rick gave a light chuckle. Thank heavens the man pulled his fingers free. If Dorian had to wait much longer, he just might come all over the bed.
Dorian’s ass clenched and pulsed when he felt Rick’s cock pressing at his hole. He was damn near ready to weep with joy.
But instead of shouting in relief, Dorian gasped and moaned as the thick length of Rick’s cock entered him, stretching him wide and sliding in deep.
They both shuddered.
As good as Rick felt seated inside of him, Dorian couldn’t wait any longer. His body was teetering close to the edge already. He began to buck his hips, driving Rick’s cock harder into the soft flesh of his ass, grinding against the man.
“My wild, little gatito,” Rick murmured as he matched Dorian’s hard thrusts, one hand spanning over Dorian’s hip, the other pulling at Dorian’s shoulder, driving Dorian’s ass harder onto Rick’s cock.
Dorian was bucking under Rick, feeling the man’s steel shaft pounding into his ass. Dorian reached down and pumped his cock to Rick’s thrusts, determined to get off.
“Rick—” Dorian’s plea was a hard gasp, a breathless moan as his hand stroked his cock harder and he bit hard into his bottom lip.
“Come for me, gatito,” Rick said, growling the words out in a feral tone. It seemed Dorian wasn’t the only one who was close.
Moving his hand faster, Dorian cried out when Rick drove into his ass at lightning speed. His mate’s cock pegged his sweet spot over and over again, making Dorian damn near pass out from pleasure.
His body arched, his hand jerked, and Dorian saw a thousand stars as his orgasm ripped through him. The pulsating pleasure overtook his mind, making Dorian mumble incoherent words.
Rick pushed Dorian’s upper half to the bed and then covered Dorian’s back with his chest, sinking his canines deep into Dorian’s shoulder.
Oh hell, he really was going to pass out.
Rick pounded into him like a wild man, and then he stiffened, grunting around Dorian’s shoulder as Dorian’s ass was filled with the man’s seed.
The only thing Dorian could do at this point was collapse to the bed and pray he relearned how to breathe.
Rick slid his softening cock from Dorian’s ass and nestled beside him.
As Dorian lay there, his body still humming from his spectacular orgasm, he began to think about everything going on in his life. They had been on the run for months now, running from one place to the next, always looking over their shoulder, and wondering every second if they were going to be caught or killed.
Deep down inside, Dorian felt a slight crack begin inside of him. It was tiny, a minute fracture, but Dorian had a feeling the crack was going to grow.
His life had been mundane before all of this happened, and even though he had risen up to the fight, a man could only take so much of living a life-and-death situation on a daily basis.
Dorian just feared the day when he finally broke.
Benito frowned when Miguel took a seat on the step, wiping at the tears in his eyes with the back of his hand. Seeing his cousin cry was extremely rare. “This is a happy occasion. Why are you crying, Miguel?”
Miguel smiled up at Benito, but the tears were still falling. “They would have been proud of me, you know? My dad talked of this day ever since I turned eighteen. It’s just that they should have been here to witness me becoming a man, finding my place in the pack. I’ve dreamed of being an enforcer since I was little, and now that I am, I feel cheated that they couldn’t watch our alpha blood oath us.”
Benito took a seat next to Miguel on the step, scenting the sadness and pain in his cousin. “I miss them as well. I can’t even remember my parents, and yours were always there for me. I would have loved for them to see this day for both of us.”
Miguel wiped at his eyes again. “I miss the way my mom used to hug me and tell me she loved me. I miss the way my dad used to let me work alongside of him when he did the house repairs or just prattled in the garage with small projects.” Miguel wiped both eyes this time. “I just miss them so much, Benito.”
Benito pulled Miguel into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I love you, Miguel. I wish I could give them back to you, but I can’t. The only thing I can offer is that I will always be by your side and that you’ll never be alone.”
Miguel pushed Benito away, smiling and then laughing. “We’re enforcers now. No damn crying.”
“No crying,” Benito repeated as he kissed Miguel on the cheek and then yelped, jumping up as his cousin chased him down with a look that said Benito was going to pay for the stolen affection.
Chapter Twelve
> “Try the strawberries.” Mason pointed to Ian’s plate with his fork. “They’re fresh.” He knew Ian wasn’t hungry, but Mason wasn’t about to let the man wither away to nothing. He already looked like he was just one step away as it were.
He thought about the kiss they’d shared, and Mason could feel himself getting hard. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed the man. Ian wasn’t in the right frame of mind to have anything with Mason, let alone a relationship.
But he just couldn’t bring himself to regret what they had shared. Although he knew he needed to tread carefully where Ian was concerned.
“I’m full,” Ian complained as he pushed the food around on his plate with his fork.
Mason decided to fall back on their friendship. It would be a lot easier for Ian to deal with than complicated emotions. “Dude, you ate like three bites of your eggs. Eat the fruit.”
Mason could hear a small grunt in the back of Ian’s throat, but the man picked up the strawberry and popped it into his mouth.
Pressing his back into the dresser, Mason settled his plate onto his lap. “So, tell me,” Mason began and saw Ian visibly stiffen, “what kind of things do you like to get into?”
Ian relaxed.
“You thought I was about to ask about the club.” Mason called Ian on his assumption. “Don’t worry. Unless you’re willing to talk, I’m not going to badger you.”
Ian grabbed another strawberry and shoved it into his mouth. Mason was determined to get the man to eat everything on his plate. The guy chewed and then pushed the fruit around. “I used to draw a lot. My teachers said I had real talent.”
“Really?” Mason chided him. “I can draw a mean stick figure, but if you ask me to sketch something, it would probably turn out to look like a child’s drawing. Hmm,”—Mason paused—“I think a child’s drawing might even trump mine.”
A small smile tilted at Ian’s lips. “I’m pretty good at faces. I’ve been told I can capture what the person is feeling in my drawings.”
Mason screwed his face up, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. “Can you capture this?”
Ian laughed.
Mason’s heart melted. The man had no idea how truly stunning he was when he smiled. The cobalt burst into rays of spectacular sparkles, and his face seemed even more handsome.
“Dork. What about you? What do you like getting into?” Ian plucked another strawberry into his mouth and ate it, pleasing Mason to no end.
“Cars,” Mason replied. “I love working on them. My father thought it was a waste of time. He said a mechanic was better suited for the job.” Mason shrugged. “I disagreed. There was just something about getting under the hood or crawling underneath the body that calmed me. I wanted to go to school to learn how to take a car apart and put it back together, but my father…” Mason trailed off, feeling the anger rising inside of him.
“What did he want you to do?”
“Deny who I was and take over the company someday.” There was no way in hell Mason could sit in the high tower of Sellers Pharmaceuticals and attend board meetings all day. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t lying to Ian about his love of cars. Mason had always wanted to get into a restoration project, but his father wouldn’t hear of it. It pissed him off that the man was the way he was.
And of course, he hadn’t got past the fact that the man had tried to blow him up. He wasn’t sure he ever would. Just how did a guy go about getting over the fact that his father wanted him dead?
“What company?” Ian asked, forking some eggs and shoveling them into his mouth. Taking Ian’s mind off of his problems seemed to be the key to getting the guy to relax. Mason would keep that in mind. But he could see the dark circles under the man’s eyes. He knew Ian couldn’t stay awake forever and prayed someone answered their call about a dream walker.
“Sellers Pharmaceuticals.”
Ian frowned. “I’ve heard that name before.”
Mason nodded as he polished his food off and set the plate aside. “They are a pretty big company.”
“No.” Ian shook his head. “I’ve heard that name mentioned…you know.”
Mason gave a noise of disgust. “I wouldn’t put it past my father to make shady-ass deals to ensure his company thrived. He tried to blow up the college I attended…while I was still there.”
Ian gaped at Mason. “Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t deny who I was. Even when the hate groups had come after our pack and killed two females, my father still wouldn’t come to their defense. He fears being outed as a changeling and losing his mass fortune and company.” Mason was determined to bring his father down. The man was scum, and Mason was going to be there when his father lost it all.
“He killed his competitor’s son,” Mason continued. “His brilliant plan was that if he made it look like changelings blew up the college, then the father who owned Dyson Pharmaceuticals would be so distraught about losing his only son that he would sink all of his resources into funding the Breed Hunters. My father knew Jacob Dyson would avenge his son’s death. But his plan was that eventually Jacob would go broke, leaving Sellers Pharmaceuticals as the leading pharmaceutical company in the nation. Talk about an uncaring bastard.”
“But you didn’t die.”
“No, and that pisses my father off. He hates to fail. I still have Breed Hunters looking for me to finish my father’s job. They have no clue why he wants me dead, but enough money will make any person turn a blind eye.”
Mason glanced down to see Ian’s plate was clean. “So, what else do you like to do?” He had to get away from that morose subject before he not only revved himself up, but made Ian depressed.
Ian shrugged. “I never really got into anything but drawing. I wasn’t one of those guys who had friends to hang around. I liked being by myself most of the time. It was better for me.”
“Because no one understood you?” Damn, Mason was trying to steer away from touchy subjects, but it seemed they were determined to be discussed.
“Pretty much,” Ian replied. “Not because I was gay. That never came up when I was in school. I just—”
“Dude, it’s cool. So you checked out the jocks in school?” Mason teased.
Ian blushed. “They were hot.”
“I always liked the geeks. There was something about the pencils sticking out of their pocket protectors and the tape around their glasses that always gave me a boner.”
Ian gaped at him.
Mason laughed. “Just kidding. Come on, let’s take these dishes downstairs.” Mason stood and then glanced down at Ian. “Though you might want to put on the clothes Omar brought you.”
Seeing Ian naked shouldn’t have affected Mason. He was a changeling, used to nudity, but he was affected all right. If he was going to help Ian get through all of this, then the man need to cover his jewels.
Ian set his plate aside and crawled over to Mason. Hell if he had ever seen anything that erotic before. Mason wasn’t sure what to say or do as Ian settled on his knees, placing his hands on his thighs, and lowering his head.
“Ian.”
He could see how badly the man was shaking. Mason reached out and tucked a finger under the man’s chin, lifting Ian’s head. “Friends, not master.”
Ian nodded, but Mason could see the need eating away at the fragile human in front of him. He smoothed his hand over Ian’s cheek, wondering if he could really have something with this man.
Ian scooted closer, his eyes fluttering closed as he nuzzled the palm of Mason’s hand.
How in the hell was he supposed to combat his desire against something as sensuous as this? Mason was a strong male, but even he had his breaking point.
His eyes lowered and Mason could see that Ian was half hard. His jaw clenched as he fought against taking the man. Ian wasn’t ready. He was riddled with scars and was battling a vampire in his dreams. Mason did the hardest thing in his life. “Get dressed, Ian.”
Ian opened his eyes and nodded. He stood and grabbed the loung
e pants Omar had left for him and slid them on. He could tell Ian wasn’t used to wearing clothes because he pulled at the pants every few seconds as they walked downstairs.
“Good,” Rick said as the two walked into the kitchen. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Mason glanced at Ian.
“Sasha is on the back porch. He’ll be fine,” Rick said as he walked from the room, Mason following.
Ian placed the plates in the sink and then turned, seeing Dorian standing by the table, his hands shoved into his front pockets. Their eyes locked and all of a sudden there wasn’t enough air in the room. Ian felt trapped, like he was being scrutinized as Dorian’s eyes studied him closely, intently.
He was a junkie.
He was perverted.
He was worthless.
All of those feelings came to the forefront, so Ian countered them and protected himself by taking the first verbal shot. “What, are you trying to figure out how to start your sanctimonious speech?” Ian might deserve the lecture of a lifetime, but Dorian was not about to stand there and judge him. Dorian hated drug users. He never hid that fact. Ian had heard the man say they were a waste of air, or some shit like that.
But even if he couldn’t quote his brother word-perfect, he knew how the man felt. Dorian was probably chomping at the bit to dress Ian down.
He was just glad as hell his parents weren’t here. Ian could go toe to toe with Dorian. But his parents? Not a chance in hell. One look from his dad and Ian would feel like he had let the most important person in the world down.
He had.
But Ian wasn’t going to think about that right now. He had enough bullshit to worry about other than hearing his brother talk down to him or think about what a loser son he was.
Like how he was going to stay awake forever and why he was having such a strong attraction to Mason.
“No.” Dorian shook his head as he pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed them over his chest. Fuck if Dorian didn’t look like their father in that moment. Ian had to mentally remind himself that it wasn’t his father, but his older brother. “I’m just trying to figure you out, Ian. I can’t understand how I missed your depravities when we both lived at home.”