He wrapped his arms around Luka, a contented purr vibrating in his throat as he caressed his back in long, languid strokes.
For a long time, they stayed like that, holding onto each other as they swayed gently beneath the water. Neither of them spoke, communicating only in soft touches and quiet rumbles.
Once Luka had regained a modicum of control, he lifted his head and leaned back just far enough to look into Ruger’s eyes. There was no fear, no judgment. Rather, he found only understanding and desire shining back at him from those amber depths.
It felt surreal to be not only stared at but actually seen. Not as a monster. Not as something vile. But as someone worthy.
As someone who mattered.
He bent closer and hovered there, waiting, hoping. Ruger didn’t disappoint.
Closing the distance, his mate brought their lips together, the touch soft and tentative. When he didn’t recoil, Ruger kissed him again, firmer this time, more insistent.
Luka growled his approval and clutched at the male, digging his fingers into the velvety skin at his hips. Desire seared through him, molten and consuming. By the gods, he needed him,cravedhim.
It went beyond the mere physical, though. A deep, dark part of him wanted to possess the male, to lay claim to him. He wanted to drown Ruger in his scent, to mark him, brand him from the inside out so that no one dared to take what belonged to him.
“Mine.”
The sound of his own voice, deep and guttural, startled him, but Ruger only smiled and lifted his arms to wind them around Luka’s neck.
“Mine,” he echoed. “You are mine.”
They came together again, the previous hesitancy now replaced by a deep, feral hunger. They ate at each other, mouths crashing and tongues dueling. Their hands roamed and groped, pawing at slick skin with desperation rather than coordination.
His cock throbbed, hard and aching, pulsing in with every thunderous beat of his heart. He rocked his hips, sliding the length across the hard muscles of his mate’s stomach, seeking more friction.
It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. His low growl filled the enclosure, vibrating off the glass as he spun the shifter around and pressed him against the tiled wall.
Ruger groaned and arched his hips, pressing into him as he blanketed his mate’s back and peppered kisses across his shoulders. Gods, he was gorgeous, achingly so, and the scent that poured off his skin was dangerously addicting.
Sliding a hand over Ruger’s hip, he palmed his rigid shaft, growling as he stroked him from base to crown. His mate shuddered, and his head fell forward, a volley of animalistic noises spilling from his mouth as he fucked into Luka’s fist.
With his free hand, he fumbled blindly at the bottles on the corner shelf, searching for something—anything—to help ease the way.
“This one,” Ruger panted, plucking a small bottle filled with thick liquid from the shelf. “Hurry.”
Only too eager to comply, he coated his cock with the gel and slicked Ruger’s entrance with the excess. Then he lined up the head and pushed inside, breaching the tight ring of muscles, and nearly choked.
So tight. So fucking hot. Ruger’s inner walls squeezed around his length, sucking him deeper into his silky channel.
He tried to start slow, to give his mate time to adjust, but every breathy moan and throaty growl tripped him closer to the edge.
With one hand braced against the wall, the other gripped around Ruger’s hip in a bruising hold, he pounded into him, pistoning his hips as he drove them both toward completion.
“Fuck!” Ruger roared, his fingertips clawing against the tiles. “Harder. I’m close, Luka. Fuck me harder.”
He drove forward, thrusting into his mate with an intensity that bordered on violence, but still, Ruger begged for more.
The room filled with the sounds of their coupling—growls, groans, and barked demands—their movements growing clumsier as they neared the pinnacle. Hovering on the edge, ready to fall, Luka tangled his fingers in his mate’s hair and jerked his head to the side, exposing the slope of his throat.
Ruger didn’t resist. Rather, he relaxed into the touch, offering himself freely, and Luka roared as he struck hard and fast, embedding his canines into the supple skin.
The first splash of crimson over his tongue made his head spin. The second sent him reeling. And the third pushed him past the point of no return.
Straightening, he roared in pleasure when Ruger whipped his head around and bit into his shoulder, leaving his own mark. Staking his own claim.
Fire raged through him. Heat exploded in his chest. Time slowed. The world tilted.
