“Please what?” Quain gave an experimental lap at the bead of liquid on the mushroomtip.
“Suckme.”
“Hmm, all right. I do want my mate to be happy.” Quain took his time, licking around the top, then poking the tip of his tongue into theslit.
The sound of tearing pulled at his lust-filled attention. Claws covered the ends of Peter’s fingers and ripped into the bedding. Peter’s eyes were closed and his head tilted back. Quain’s breath caught at Peter’s beauty. He pushed away his questions over partial transformation and went back to lavishing attention on hismate.
“More!” Peterdemanded.
“I’m getting to it. Keep your pants on…or don’t.” Quain grinned, then nipped Peter’s left hip before licking the injured spot. That would leave a bruise. Happy with his mild marking, he wrapped his lips around Peter’s cock and sucked down as much as he could fit in his mouth without choking. From his mate’s gasp, he did wellenough.
Guttural groans filled the air and pride burned through him at being able to reduce Peter to a being of pure sound. He kept up his licking and sucking until Peter grabbed his hair and pulled himaway.
“If you keep that up, there won’t be anything for you toenjoy.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m enjoying myself now.” Quain took his advice, though, and scooted up to kiss Peter on the lips. He indulged in their mutual passion for a few minutes before addressing the importantquestion.
“Where’s yourlube?”
Peter’s soft laugh made him smile. Unlike the quick flash of hot fire he heard most mates felt upon meeting, this was a long-burning flame, one in which he could bask during cold winter nights. His inner lynxapproved.
“In the side drawer, there.” Peter pointed to the little table beside the bed. Since there was one on each side, he didn’t feel weirdasking.
“Great.” He lunged for the table, pulled it open, and quickly found the tube hiding inside. “I’m going to take care of myself so I don’t have to worry about coming before we get to the good stuff.” Too easily, he could imagine losing control at Peter’s wickedtouch.
He met the smile crossing Peter’s face with one of his own. A quick application of lube on his fingers and he spent the next several minutes loosening himself up and teasing Peter with everymotion.
“Enough!” Peter roared. “Get on me, or I’ll take control, injuries ornot.”
Quain put his knees on either side of Peter’s hips and slicked him up. “I’m ready toride.”
“That’s terrible,” Peter said, setting his hands on Quain’s hips to steadyhim.
When Quain sank onto Peter’s erection, they bothmoaned.
“Sofull.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Peter’s griptightened.
Quain could tell Peter was holding back the urge to flip them over and take control. His dominant streak battled against his protective need to be cautious of Quain’sinjuries.
“You should.” Quain awkwardly lifted up, then sank back down with more enthusiasm than grace. He wasn’t a professional porn star, afterall.
The passion between them took off, igniting as a stick of dynamite headed to the point ofexplosion.
Quain came first but kept riding Peter until wetness filled hishole.
“Fuck,” Petersaid.
“Indeed.” Quain collapsed on top of him, laughter in his voice. He waited until he could feel his toes again before sliding off to lie besidePeter.
Peter reached over to open the door on the side table besidehim.
A plastic packet landed on Quain’s stomach. He examined it. “Wetwipes?”
“I don’t want to get up,” Peter explained with a sheepishgrin.
“Lazy. We have to get up soon anyway. Lunch with my parents, remember? Besides, I don’t think you want to meet them smelling ofsex.”
