Fire Of Love: A Wolf Shifter Mpreg Romance (Savage Love Book 2)

by Preston Walker

  Juries ate that shit up.

  And so would the media.

  Only when a verdict had been given, Arlo had been sentenced, and the media attention had died down, would this whole thing be considered over.

  But the hard part? That was over. Isaac no longer needed to live his life with the shadow of his past overcasting everything he did. He could move on, step into the light.

  More people were walking by. “I wish someone would hold me like that,” a passerby commented, to an appreciative chuckle from a friend.

  Moody smiled a little, his cheeks heating with a soft blush. He looked damn good with some color on his face.

  Now that he had a reason to get up in the morning, Isaac figured he could stand to be out in the sun and get some color, too.

  Moody wriggled a little, kicking his legs. Isaac gently set him down, though he kept his hands on Moody’s shoulders. Looking right into his lover’s warm, deep eyes, he said, “What do you want to do now? Rhode Island? Or do we go back to Pensacola?”

  Moody tipped his head to one side, as cute and sweet as a puzzled puppy. Isaac’s heart twisted in his chest, and his groin throbbed in response. “Don’t you want to stay here in Daphne?” he asked. “You belong here. This is where you live. And what about your pack? They need someone to take care of them. Shouldn’t that be you?”

  Isaac didn’t hesitate. He started shaking his head halfway through what Moody said, knowing where the rest of the conversation was going. “I don’t belong here. My pack isn’t my pack anymore. They chased me out, let false evidence guide them instead of reason. How could they even hope to welcome me back, when every single one of them knows what they did? And if I was to be their leader… that’s just not right. I don’t want to lead. I’m not cut out for it.”

  Moody’s gaze went soft and contemplative. “What do you want to do, then?”

  Isaac gazed into Moody’s eyes, bringing their lips so close they brushed together when he spoke. “I want to be with you,” he said. “I want to do everything right. Let’s go back to Pensacola, let everyone know what’s going on. Then, let’s just… be us. Take some time for ourselves. That sound good to you?”

  “It sounds perfect,” Moody whispered. “Except for one thing.”

  His heart gave another twist inside him, though this time it wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as the first. “What’s that?”

  “I’m really fucking tired,” Moody said.

  And he looked it, Isaac realized. It was hard for him to see the flaws in someone he loved, but when he looked for them, he saw the dark smudges under Moody’s eyes, which were a little bloodshot.

  Got punched in the head, still managed to get both of us out of the basement, read like 40 fucking books, recovered from a bite on the neck. The attack Arlo delivered in desperation was shallow, easy enough for a shifter to heal from. Moody now only had tender scabs to show for it. And on top of all that, he just went through hours of police investigation. No wonder he’s exhausted.

  Now he was paying attention to Moody’s tiredness, Isaac realized he was more or less in the same condition. He had been shocked, knocked around, and had his emotions generally beaten up. His stomach hurt it was so empty and his thoughts felt all muddled and confused.

  “Then, change of plans,” he said. “Let’s get a hotel room. We’ll call Destiny from there and fill him in on everything. Then, we sleep for as long as we want. And then we head home.”

  “What about our bikes? How are we supposed to even get home?”

  Isaac smiled wryly. “You ever been on a bus before?”

  “Great. Never, but I’m really looking forward to it based on your tone of voice.”

  “We’ll worry about that when it comes to that,” Isaac said. There were too many things for him to keep track of right now. When he’d slept some and gotten some food inside him, he’d feel more capable. Reaching down, he took Moody’s hand in his and then looked around to orient himself.

  It was strange how, after so long, he still remembered his way around this place like it was the back of his hand. Being a wolf, and having a motorcycle on top of that, created a need to wander and explore. He knew corners of Daphne that no other ever would.

  He pointed off down the street, against the trickling flow of foot traffic. “There’s a hotel down that way. $50 for a room. I don’t think it’s check-in time yet but they never used to be the busiest location. I’m sure they’ll just be glad to rent out a room.”

  They walked together, just enjoying the simple act of existing together. Isaac couldn’t really sustain his erection, not when he was so tired, but he had hope for one sometime in the near future. Maybe tomorrow, when they were well-rested and in top shape once more.

  Besides, he didn’t need to be horny to just be happy that Moody was with him. Their hands clasped together, the occasional contact of their hips brushing, was more than enough to make him happy. All the little things he had taken for granted before, he would never take for granted again. Every moment with Moody was to be treasured.

  They reached the hotel, which was really quite nice for its diminutive size and cheap prices. The receptionist looked at them carefully as they came into the lobby, one eyebrow raised. “Hi, gentlemen. Can I help you with anything?”

  Isaac had already taken in everything about the lobby that there was to see. Clean floors, a couple dents on the wall near the breakfast buffet area. Steam rose up from a set of two coffee pots nearby; most places provided free coffee but it was rare to see the pots actually in action unless someone specifically went up to the reception desk to ask if the brew was fresh. The answer was usually no.

  Potted plants and trees of various sizes gave a lively feel to the place, though it was the sort of liveliness that also meant a place was trying too hard.

  That was the feeling he got from this place, he realized. It was a trying place, an effortful hotel, desperate to be more than it seemed.

  Maybe they wouldn’t be allowed in after all.

  “We need a room,” Isaac said.

  The receptionist kept her eyebrows raised. “It’s not our normal check-in time yet, sir. It’s actually quite early still. Guests haven’t even started checking out yet.”

  Which meant they were going to end up at a seedy motel.

  “However,” she continued, brightening his terrible day with one word, “we’ve got some spare rooms that need filling. You’d almost be doing me a favor if you occupied one. Or two?” She cast a hopeful glance at Moody.

  Smiling, relieved, wanting to kiss this skeptical, generous woman, Isaac said, “Just one. For one night.”

  “Of course. Let me get you set up right away.”

  Five minutes later, it was done. They had a little envelope with two key cards inside, and the receptionist’s personal recommendations on which room service meals were actually up to snuff.

  The hotel had two floors and they were on the ground level, needing only to follow a series of two hallways before arriving at their door.

  Isaac didn’t even look around at their surroundings. He had been taught from a young age that hotel maids tended to skip out on refilling all the right things, or cleaning certain areas guests might not think to check. He should check the pipes to see if they leaked, the shower pressure, the trash bins, inside the closet…

  He did none of those things. He went straight to the bed,without caring whether or not the top sheet had been actually washed, and collapsed on it with Moody at his side.

  The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

  For a very long time now, he dreamed whenever he slept. It didn’t matter whether or not he had gone to bed or if he was only dozing lightly for five minutes or so. He dreamed. He dreamed of being detached, of missing something important and trying to catch up to it. He dreamed of running, yet never being able to go fast enough. When he tried to call out, his voice never emerged as more than a hoarse croak.

  This time, he had no dreams at all. He slept li
ke a newborn, given innocent and pure into a world full of hopes and dreams.

  When Isaac awoke, nearly nine straight hours later, he stared into the murky darkness of the hotel room, trying to orient himself. He felt contented, completely delighted, in fact. Never before had an awakening been so good. He was always one of those people who spent the morning with their eyes squinted shut, a cup of coffee never far away.

  Now, his eyes had opened, and so had his mind. He was awake, ready to get going.

  Details and memories filtered back in, answering the question for him of why he felt so happy and warm. Propping himself up on his elbow, he turned over carefully to look at Moody.

  The omega was sprawled out on his back, occupying a good two-thirds of their shared bed. One arm was tossed against the headboard, while the other flared out to the side. His legs were similarly splayed, making him resemble a dancer in the middle of a graceful leap.

  Unable to help himself, Isaac leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Moody’s cheek.

  The omega stirred around a little, then sighed and relaxed back into sleep with his lips slightly parted.

  His heart aching it felt so full, Isaac slid off the bed and headed in the direction of the bathroom. He felt positively gross, his skin crying out for the cooling touch of moisture. When he moved his hands, he could feel grease and grime and dust smudging around on the surface.

  Turning on the shower, he stepped inside and let the spray hit him for several minutes. His head down, water streamed past his face, dripped from his chin like cleansing tears. Once steam started to swirl around his naked form, he picked up the complimentary bar of hotel soap and pulled the wrapping off with some difficulty. His fingers were large and also wet, a combination not exactly meant for finesse.

  When he surpassed that arduous task, he set down to washing himself. Suds cascaded down his body, following the lines of his muscle down to the apex between his legs.

  And suddenly there was a hand there that didn’t belong to him, claiming the soap and using it to gently wash his upper thighs and pretty much everything else in that general area. Heat pressed in behind Isaac, hotter than the shower spray, hotter than anything else he had ever known in his entire life.

  Moody’s dick pressed against the back of his thigh, his other arm wrapped around Isaac’s waist while he worked. His chin rested on Isaac’s back, between his shoulder blades.

  “I’m helping,” Moody whispered.

  Isaac still had quite a few physical dilemmas to worry about, such as the fact that his stomach no longer felt empty. Instead, it felt full, harboring a ravenous wolf which would not be quieted until it had been fed. He was hungrier than he had ever been in his entire life.

  However, even that need paled in comparison to what he was feeling right now, like there were fireworks going off inside him. Tingles raced through his blood, making his muscles tense. Moody pressed more firmly against him in response, grinding on the back of his thigh.

  A rush of heat consumed Isaac. That was all he could take. Something inside him broke. Reaching down, he turned the water off. Whirling around, he grabbed Moody in his arms and pushed him up against the wall. Their slick bodies pressed together and he shoved his thigh between Moody’s legs, rewarded when the omega started to thrust and grind against his hard muscles.

  One hand on either side of Moody, Isaac leaned in close and brought their lips together. He tasted droplets of water, the bitterness of sleep, and the underlying sweetness which he imagined defined Moody’s entire existence. Pushing their lips together hard, he forced his tongue into Moody’s mouth, roaming and exploring his wet textures for an instant before thrusting for the back of his throat.

  Nails dug into the wet, goosebump-riddled flesh on his back. Moody’s hips bucked and grinded rhythmically on Isaac’s thigh, his dick like an iron rod between them. They kissed harder and harder, devouring each other’s mouths, tongues thrusting, lips clashing together again and again. They breathed the same air, tasted the same tastes, felt the same things.

  Isaac pushed his hips forward hard, fucking his own cock roughly on Moody’s thigh. His thrusts pushed Moody back hard against the shower wall, and then Moody would fuck back against him, their bodies rocking in rhythm.

  Reaching out to the side, Isaac grabbed the shower curtain and yanked it back. Several of the shower rings snapped from the force, a thing he noticed without much care. Grabbing Moody, he stepped out of the shower with him, causing curls and swirls of steam to break apart around their bodies.

  Laughing, Moody clutched at him and kissed him again, their lips fitting together perfectly, their tongues dancing between them. Isaac captured Moody’s tongue, curled his around it, and sucked.

  Moody trembled, his knees going weak. He leaned more of his weight against Isaac, his hands roaming up and down over wet, overheated flesh.

  No lube.

  Whether this thought was his, or he picked up on something Moody thought of, Isaac had no idea. It was also another thing he just plain didn’t care about, because gay men had been fucking for untold eons and lube had not existed up until very recently. Love found a way.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Isaac caught sight of a little rack on the sink, holding a bar of hand soap and a few tubes of something milky-white in coloration. His hopes soared and he removed one hand from Moody to grab at one of the tubes.

  Moody laughed into his mouth, his breath sweet from his delight. “Excuse me? Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Makeshift lube,” Isaac explained, cupping the little tubes in his palm. He had no idea how much lotion these vials actually held, or how slippery the consistency would be, but he was going to make it work one way or another. He wanted sex, goddammit. He wanted to be as close to Moody as one man could get to another.

  He could feel Moody shivering a little against him, cold leeching in despite the humid bathroom atmosphere. And that wasn’t right. He wanted the omega to shake, to convulse, to spasm instead.

  Wrapping both arms around Moody’s waist, Isaac shoved the bathroom door open with his shoulder and headed over to the bed. He tossed Moody down onto the rumpled sheets and climbed up after him, setting the lotion down nearby while straddling his prize.

  Moody smiled up into his eyes, one hand curving around his ass cheek while the other wandered between their bodies and took hold of Isaac’s cock. “I had no idea you were so old-fashioned.”

  “I’m not,” Isaac growled, leaning over his lover’s body. Having Moody holding onto him like that made him breathless, and he could hardly get any words to come out. “But I want this to be good. I want it to be right.”

  “So give yourself to me,” Moody whispered.

  The words hung in the air between them for a brief moment. Isaac trembled at the power they held, at the depth of meaning behind the simple syllables. As an alpha, he was meant to take. No matter what it was that he wanted, he had been raised to believe that he could find a way to have it no matter the obstacles.

  But that was wrong. He knew that now, and Moody had confirmed it here for him whether he knew it or not. An alpha didn’t just take. He gave.

  Isaac closed his eyes and reached out for Moody with his thoughts, finding the other man already waiting for him. They came together like a spark of static, fur brushing against fur.

  He could feel Moody’s pleasure alongside his own now, felt the tracery of tingles racing through his blood, his breathlessness, his need, his want. He could feel his own weight, the pressure of his own body, the rigid length of his cock in Moody’s hand, as intimately as if they switched bodies.

  And he could feel that Moody knew everything he was experiencing.

  There were no gaps between them now. They had become one.

  Isaac looked into Moody’s rich eyes, watched his face -so emotive now, so high of color, so much more beautiful than that mask of bitterness he had worn so recently- and reached for the first bottle of lotion.

  Moody swiped the lotion from his hand,
flipped open the cap, and squeezed out every last drop of the contents into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, gently, until the cold substance turned warm, and then he wrapped both hands gently around the base of Isaac’s cock and stroked up to the tip in a single motion.

  Isaac tossed his head back and cried out, his body rocked with a wave of spasms like the first shock of an oncoming earthquake. His cock twitched and jumped in Moody’s hand, as if with a life of its own. His groin pulsed and throbbed, his balls feeling very hot and swollen and tender. Wave after wave continued to rock through him and he grabbed at the mattress on either side of Moody’s body, struggling to hold himself back from the edge when he was already so close to going over.

  And then Moody reached his end and Isaac opened his eyes, looking into the face of the omega who he knew would always be his. His heart trembled, and so did his cock.

  “Do me,” Moody said. He wrapped one lotioned hand around his own needy organ, and grabbed at the mattress with the other. “Do me or I’ll die, Isaac.”

  Isaac didn’t know much about self-expression, but he thought those words were the best damn poem he had ever heard.

  Bracing himself, he slid slowly back, off Moody, until he could hold his cock in his hand and guide his slick tip between his round ass cheeks. Moody’s tight little pucker was a tender and pink thing, a portal of pleasure.

  Isaac entered, sliding in easily.

  Moody cried out and grabbed at him now instead of the mattress, his fingers working up and down the length of his shaft. He pushed his ass against Isaac’s cock, wriggling, adjusting, helping to guide him further.

  There was no hesitation this time, no need to continuously backup and start the process over again. They were shifters and their bodies had adapted for each other. Moody was tight, but not constricting. Isaac felt every intimate bump and ridge of his lover’s inner walls, gliding hotly over his own textured surfaces.

  And he could feel what it was like for Moody, to be stretched and filled and fucked. Pleasure with every inch, rocking his body, making him moan and cry out.