“I promise,” I said, because I did. There wasn’t any chance it wouldn’t end that way. Joe and I were always heading that direction, even if there’d been a three-year detour. I’d just needed to get over myself and the anger I felt before I could realize that.
He grabbed his dick again and started jacking off, slow, even pulls, swiping his thumb over the head of his cock. It was a practiced move, something he knew he liked. Just the thought of him doing this by himself, sitting on his own fingers, rubbing his cock, it hit me hard. My own dick throbbed at the thought, at the sight of him spread out before me. I looked down and watched my fingers disappearing into his ass. I barely had to move my hand as he rocked his hips down and then away, down and away.
He started tensing as I fingered him, his hand moving faster on his dick. His nipples hardened, and I knew he was getting close. He kept chanting my name, little grunts that rolled out of his chest. His eyes started flashing red again, and I added a third finger almost brutally. He growled at me, teeth sharp. His ass clenched around my fingers, and just when I knew he couldn’t take much more, I knocked the hand on his cock out of the way and swallowed him down to the root, gagging slightly as he bumped the back of my throat. He cried out from somewhere above me, hands going to the back of my head, claws pricking my scalp. My nose was in his pubes when I pushed my fingers harder into his ass. He came down my throat, heavy spurts that tasted bitter on the back of my tongue. I choked on it, pulling off, his spunk dribbling down my chin, the last bit going onto my cheek.
He looked thoroughly fucked out below me, still chasing his orgasm as he tried to push himself farther onto my fingers. I pulled them out, and he gasped, eyes flashing open, looking up at me. I rose to my knees above him, and all I could think about as I licked my lips to taste him was that he needed to be marked. And kisses I could suck into his skin would fade. But the smell of me wouldn’t.
I used the hand that had been in his ass on my own cock. It wasn’t soft or gentle. I stripped it furiously, wanting him to be covered in my scent.
“Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and wrecked. “I want it. Ox, I want it.” He reached over and grabbed my balls as I jacked myself off above him. He held them in his hands, squeezing tightly enough to make me grunt, twisting them into bright pleasurepain. I felt it building at the base of my spine, little bolts of lightning arcing along my skin. My toes curled underneath me.
I shot off on his chest as he pressed two fingers against my taint. I snapped his name out like a curse. My spunk landed on his chest, his nipples. It rolled down over his clavicles and pooled at his throat.
He looked ruined. Owned. I’d never felt so primal. I didn’t know if it was the Alpha, or if it was just me. It didn’t matter. Everyone would know. And that’s all I cared about.
He reached up and ran his fingers through the jizz on his chest. He looked delirious and rubbed his wet fingers over his right nipple.
I collapsed down next to him, the bed creaking under the weight of two overgrown men. We were both breathing heavily as we lay side by side, shoulders touching, faces turned toward each other, just inches apart. He kept touching the spunk on him, kept running his fingers through it like he was spreading it around. I leaned over and kissed him, and he whimpered into my mouth as I sucked on his tongue, letting him taste himself.
I pulled away, and his eyes were red again.
He said, “I want to bite you.”
I said, “I know.”
He said, “I want to claim you. I want to give you scars with my claws. I want my teeth embedded in your neck.”
I said, “I know.”
He said, “You’re mine. No one else can have you. No one else can be with
you. Not like this. Not ever. You hear me, Ox? Not ever. You’re mine, and I’ll kill anyone who thinks they can take you away from me.”
And I said, “I know.”
IT WASN’T until later, much later, long after night had fallen, the sky outside black and littered with stars that burned coldly, that we spoke again. It’d been a strange sort of contentment to just lie there and watch each other.
I might have drifted in a doze, but every time I opened my eyes, Joe was still next to me, face so close I could see individual eyelashes. He hadn’t moved much, still sprawled out, comfortable in his nudity. His cock was soft against his thigh. My spunk had dried on his chest, little flecks of white sticking against the hair. It was going to be a bitch to get out later, but he didn’t seem to care.
I was the one that broke the silence.
I didn’t mean to.
One moment I was opening my eyes, and the next, I said, “You shouldn’t have left.”
And it wasn’t what I meant to say.
He sighed. “I know.”
“We should have done this. Together.”
“I know, Ox. But it’s done. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”
I wanted to be angry with him at that. Still. I wanted to be so angry.
But I just couldn’t. Not when he was here next to me, still looking like he’d just gotten fucked.
I nodded slowly. “Okay.” I wondered if it was just as simple as that.