Little Wolf (39 page)

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Authors: R. Cooper

BOOK: Little Wolf
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The next was the same, as if Tim’s head hadn’t fallen forward after the first one. Nathaniel bit at him and kissed under his ear and wouldn’t let Tim force the pace. It was slow, careful, each and every fucking time. When Tim complained, impatient and weak, Nathaniel licked at him. When he whined again, Nathaniel sucked marks onto his throat until Tim heard himself begging. Tim shook, up on his knees only because Nathaniel was holding him. He pressed for more of Nathaniel’s breath, more of his tongue. It wasn’t what he’d expected, and yet he wasn’t fighting. He wasn’t demanding anything if he didn’t count the soft whimpers he couldn’t control. The wolf told him nothing, and the air was so bright with scent it seemed filled with color. It felt like forever since he’d last come, and Nathaniel hadn’t come even once.

The knowledge made him try rolling his hips to meet Nathaniel’s slow drive in. He closed his eyes. Nathaniel’s happiness caught him unexpectedly and left him dizzy. Tim rolled his hips again, and Nathaniel began to stroke him, the lube faintly wet on his fingers, his grip sure. He rested his mouth over the nape of Tim’s neck and pressed down in the hint of a bite, a warning, before holding tighter to Tim’s hip and finally driving in the way their scents were asking him to.

He grunted. Tim’s hand slipped from the headboard. He dug his fingers into the pillows and arched toward Nathaniel, harsh breath, teeth in his skin, that cock. He slid down onto both his hands and snarled when Nathaniel dragged him backward, keeping him from hitting his head and impaling him at the same time. This was his. Nathaniel, Big Wolf, was his, even if the name was wrong. The wolf couldn’t name him, but it couldn’t name that scent swirling around them either, other than the tang of precome and sweat, spit and lube, rising blood.

Tim was aware of the rapid, frightening beat of his heart, but it didn’t stop him. He groaned for everything—friction, the pressure coiling deeper and deeper, the squeeze of Nathaniel’s hand, demanding Tim bend his neck. Nathaniel’s bites went fierce, almost piercing the skin. Tim shuddered and scented his own blood and jerked forward. His yell was muffled in the pillows, his load shot sticky onto his stomach and the bed. Nathaniel bit down harder, and Tim could not seem to stop shaking and coming and squeezing around the dick inside him. Nathaniel was still working Tim’s cock, torturing him with it, and still Tim had come to offer him. It spurted from him onto Nathaniel’s hands, and then ended up at his thigh when Nathaniel spread Tim’s legs wider.

If he could have, Tim would have helped him. But Nathaniel put a hand to his back and fucked into him as he hadn’t before, and Tim howled with shocked pleasure until his throat was raw. Nathaniel could still speak, bursts of words against Tim’s shoulders, whispered against the marks he’d left, words Tim might remember later when he wasn’t being held down and fucked and loving it. He was Nathaniel’s bitch, and Nathaniel was a wolf to make anyone fall down and worship. When he thrust in hard and came, biting Tim to hold him still, Tim flushed all over again at how quickly he obeyed.

Seed was hot inside him, slipping steadily from Tim as if Nathaniel hadn’t come in far too long, but Nathaniel moved again, thrusting into his own spunk with a low groan of apology. Tim reached around and pulled Nathaniel’s hand to his dick. He wasn’t fully hard, wouldn’t get fully hard for a while even though he was a young, healthy were, but it was pounding enough for Nathaniel to get the message. Tim was little, not weak. He could take whatever Nathaniel wanted to give him.

Nathaniel slid deeper into him again and put more of his weight on top of Tim. He gave another small jerk, and Tim wriggled at the come dripping from him. Nathaniel panted and licked over the bite mark he’d left.

Tim turned his head, feeling dumb for the half a second before Nathaniel surged forward to kiss him. Tim kissed back, awkward and not giving a fuck. His entire body was sore and pulsing with arousal, and anywhere their skin touched made him flinch. He couldn’t find air and his chest was on fire, but Nathaniel was kissing him. Tim had made him happy by coming his brains out. That was okay. That was better than okay.

Nathaniel pulled away to pant against him some more, and Tim slumped forward. He kept them both up for another moment before exhaustion caught up with him and he fell toward the pillows. Nathaniel moved off him with a guilty noise, and then Tim found himself on his back with Nathaniel breathing hard above him.

His expression said more than Tim was capable of understanding at the moment, his scent an unsated
need/need/need
. Tim lifted his chin and inched his legs apart, trying to ease the discomfort in his lower back and failing miserably. He glanced up again, bruised and stinging and sticky, and wondered why he felt so much like smiling. He felt roughly like he’d been split in half. He was lying in his own wet spot.

Nathaniel touched two fingers to the side of Tim’s throat, sliding them under the necklace when it got in his way. Even that ached, but Tim couldn’t manage a protest. If anything, his body tried to arch up to keep Nathaniel’s hand on him.

“Going to fuck me again?” Tim’s voice was hoarse, but he knew Nathaniel wanted more.

He got an insulted sniff for the offer, but Nathaniel went on tracing touches over Tim’s chest and stomach, then bringing his hand to his nose. “Even a were needs time to recover,” Nathaniel commented distractedly, looking very interested in the layers of semen over Tim’s belly, despite what he was saying.

He was still between Tim’s legs and showed no sign of intending to move away. With someone else, that might have been an accident. With Nathaniel, that was likely done with intent. He was keeping Tim right where he was, which meant they weren’t finished. Tim had done okay for an almost-virgin in bed with a romance novel hero.

Tim arched his head onto the damp pillows one more time to offer Nathaniel a nice view of his markings. “Guess I really am your bitch now,” he remarked, trembling despite himself. Nathaniel’s come was dripping down from Tim’s ass. Nathaniel couldn’t have been happier to see it there. He crawled down to softly lick Tim’s inner thigh.

Tim abruptly recalled exactly what shame and embarrassment felt like. For half a second he squirmed to remember that Nathaniel hadn’t only come inside him, he’d bitten his neck too, and held Tim still to take his cock. And Tim had begged for it. He thought of what Luca would have said, of what even some of the human porn would have said, and flinched.

Nathaniel growled, low and short, a command that chased through Tim’s body. Tim met his gaze, and Nathaniel pushed one of Tim’s legs up. His grip was firm. Tim was wide open, wet with come, exposed. None of his fantasies had prepared him for this. He glared because it was habit, but looked away quickly when Nathaniel’s gaze grew more intense.

Nathaniel was far from disgusted or even smug over how much Tim had given him. It didn’t make Tim’s submission any less obvious. But Nathaniel’s fingers were slippery as they gathered up trails of his come to push it back inside of Tim, as though he needed to see it there. Tim gasped in surprise and stinging arousal. Nathaniel held his gaze as he bent in and caught some of the spunk on his tongue. He swallowed, then did it again.

Tim’s mouth was suddenly dry. He slid a hand down his stomach to his dick, to his balls and his ass and Nathaniel’s fingers keeping him open. He found what he was looking for and raised his hand back to his throat. He swiped his thumb over Nathaniel’s mark, leaving a trail of Nathaniel’s seed for Nathaniel to see, right over the impression of his teeth.

He supposed it was still submission, but it felt more like a
Fuck you, now fuck me
sort of submission, which wasn’t submission at all, even if Tim didn’t know what else to call it. He rubbed Nathaniel’s come into his skin in a slow circle, a dare despite his aching body.

The scent between them was enough to make Tim hard, defying even were physiology, defying everything but the need for more that was making Nathaniel whine.
Nathaniel
was whining. Nathaniel was whining for
Tim
.

Tim reached down and rubbed what was left of the sticky come onto his dick. Nathaniel inhaled sharply. He might be a sex god, but he was a sex god who wanted Tim so bad he’d beg for it, and if it was because of Nathaniel’s instincts, then for once Tim was all about instinct.

“Yeah, bitch,” Tim commanded quietly and pushed his tired hips from the bed under the force of a mesmerized gaze of fiery gold. He let out one raspy, shocked breath when Nathaniel rose onto his knees, his cock thick and flushed, and felt like a king when Nathaniel fucked his seed back into Tim with a growl that shook the bed.

Chapter 11

 

T
IM
WAS
late into work the next morning despite being woken up shortly after dawn when Nathaniel had gotten a call from the station. About ten minutes after the gift shop was supposed to open, he slipped out of Nathaniel’s truck, his movements heavy with exhaustion, his skin stinging from the fresh mark Nathaniel had given him moments before, and stumbled into the café.

Everyone didn’t go quiet when they saw him, but it felt as if they did. Tim didn’t know what he’d looked like at that moment, he’d been too focused on Nathaniel to check the truck’s mirrors, but he knew his hair was mussed and he was walking funny. His shirt was crooked, pulled that way on purpose by a ridiculously sexy alpha sheriff so no one in town would miss the imprint of his teeth at Tim’s throat.

As Tim had learned last night, Nathaniel was like that about his mark on Tim. Tim was also learning he really didn’t mind, even when other people could see it. True, his face had been on fire with his blushes for a while now, even though the mark itself was already on its way to being healed. It would likely vanish to almost nothing by lunch. But thinking of it gone made Tim tug his shirt lower to keep it on display for as long as he could. The bruise all but told the world Tim was a bitch, but it also said he was Nathaniel’s bitch.

His uncle would have been horrified. The people in the café, well, except for Carl, looked at the mark with wide eyes. A few whistled. Tim wouldn’t go so far as to say it inspired awe, but everyone, young and old, human, were, fairy, seemed to know exactly whose mouth had been on Tim, and they were
staring
.

Tim was a cashier who had never been to high school, much less graduated from one, a tiny were in a town of giants. He nonetheless accepted their silence with a raised chin as he went behind his counter and acted as though he hadn’t noticeably winced when he sat on his stool.

He glanced at Carl, because if anyone was going to say anything directly about Tim strolling into work late with a hickey on his neck and an erection, it was Carl. But Carl watched without comment.

Tim had barely settled in before Robin’s Egg brought him steak and eggs and a sundae covered in the maraschino cherries she normally kept for herself. It was exactly the big breakfast Tim needed. She immediately brought him another that put the Full Moon Special to shame. A night of masturbating during the full moon had nothing on a night in Nathaniel’s bed, and it showed.

Carl waited until Tim finished eating, then turned back to his newspaper. “You ask for that mark?” he asked, startling Tim into nearly knocking over his plate. Robin’s Egg swooped in with a rain of happy glitter and took it from him.

Tim blinked at Carl. “You really think Nathaniel would force anything on me?” he replied blankly, before realizing he would have thought that himself a few months ago. Carl lifted his eyebrows. Tim licked hot fudge from his mouth and covered the bruise with his hand. He uncovered it in the next second. “Of course I asked for it. What do you think Nathaniel is?”

“Just making sure,” Carl told him with a shrug only slightly less confusing than the smile that followed it.

“He wouldn’t hurt me!” Tim insisted, then paused as he recalled the delicious agony of that second fucking. “I mean, except when I asked him to. I’m the one who commented on how my bruises from last night were already gone as I was about to get out of the truck, and then, uh, climbed into his lap so he could bite me again. All he did was pull my collar out of the way before I left.” Nathaniel had been breathing hard into Tim’s shoulder, exactly like he’d done that morning after waking Tim up. He’d informed Tim he’d gotten a call and had to go in to work, so if Tim wanted a ride into town he’d have to leave early with him. Tim had wrapped his body around Nathaniel and sunk his teeth into his earlobe, and Nathaniel had climbed on top of him without another word and used his mouth to better wake Tim up.

Rimming, Tim had learned, was not a waste of time after all. Instead of an early start, they’d spent even longer in bed before fighting for shower time. The master bedroom shower was uncomfortably small for two grown weres to use at the same time, which was the only mistake in the house’s design Tim had found so far. He’d also discovered another of Nathaniel’s rare flaws; Nathaniel had no kindly impulses when it came to letting someone else shower first, and he took forever once he was in there. It was probably all the time he took to wash his broad shoulders. That was admittedly a sight Tim had enjoyed, and which had helped take his mind off the fact that he was sitting on Nathaniel’s toilet, wearing Nathaniel’s giant robe, after a night of sex with someone who made his insides go hot and cold. To distract himself, he’d accused Nathaniel of stealing the hot water on purpose. Nathaniel had stepped out of the shower, jerked Tim off against the sink, then plopped a shaking Tim under the warm spray to clean him up, which would have been more humiliating if Nathaniel hadn’t been nuzzling under Tim’s ear the whole time.

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