Lukas grunted when his arms hit the bed, too dazed and focused on steadying his breathing to bother moving yet.
“Mark me,” Quinn ordered.
It took a moment for his brain to register that. “Really?”
“You don’t want to?”
“Of course I want to.” Lukas slid his hands into Quinn’s hair and tugged. “Didn’t think you’d really want me to.”
Quinn huffed and braced his hand next to Lukas’ head before bumping their noses together. “Years, Lukas. Fuckingyears. Not letting you get away that easy. Now mark me.”
“So bossy,” he murmured, nuzzling his way down Quinn’s neck and breathing in his scent, the sweetness of it muted with arousal. He twisted his fingers tighter in the soft hair and held Quinn steady as he bit down.
Quinn jerked against him with a strangled shout, his hips slamming forward to bury himself deep in Lukas’ ass as he came.
Lukas slumped against the pillows again with a grunt of satisfaction and a breathless laugh when Quinn collapsed on top of him. He carded his fingers through Quinn’s hair as they both fell silent, their breaths slowing into a matching rhythm.
Eventually, Quinn stirred, tilting his head to nuzzle and kiss at the mark he’d left. “Good?” he asked softly.
“Great. You?”
Quinn smiled. “Yeah, same.” He sighed and shifted enough to pull out before grabbing the covers and settling in.
“We need to clean up.”
“Don’t give a shit,” Quinn muttered, yawning and throwing an arm and a leg over Lukas. “We’ll shower later.”
Lukas wrinkled his nose, already itching for said shower, but he was too comfortable and worn out to move. Despite sleeping so long already, he yawned and closed his eyes. “What’re you getting Max for Christmas?”
“Fuuuck, I have no idea.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
Chapter 26
SHOPPING FOURdays before Christmas was a special kind of chaos, and Max absolutely loved it. He focused on every aspect of the holiday he could with a deliberateness that was probably unhealthy. He knew he should have been more concerned with and upset about his father’s death and sister’s disappearance, and he was, but he wasn’t going to let it ruin the first Christmas he’d ever been able to celebrate with people he cared for. Honestly, he figured Angelica was better off with Ghost, if only because she might murder a foster family.
The grief and mourning and guilt could have their moment later. There was too much to celebrate now.
Like the fact the news had already forgotten about the rogue mage and feral pack living in the city. The brutal murder of one of the most prominent businessmen had taken over briefly, also to be forgotten when an anonymous source provided details on said businessman’s multiple crimes and the fact that he was the head of Denver’s mob.
Apparently Max had a few admirers within the police force for his numerous attempts to escape his father, who were willing to help out. One of them had even dropped by with Max’s motorcycle the day before. Now all the news could talk about was the scandal and decline of Magierseele.
Rena held a live press conference two days ago where she admitted to being Helga Fuchs. Thanks to decades of magical genetic experimentation, she’d turned back the clock on aging, assumed a new name, and pretended to be her own granddaughter. She admitted to killing thousands as a result of failed experiments in her quest to profit off of magical luxuries. She disappeared shortly after, and her company stock plummeted in the face of a federal investigation.
It was obvious Ghost still had Rena under some kind of control, but Max couldn’t find any fucks to give about it.
He found it rather hard to give a fuck about absolutely anything with two large mugs of warm hard apple cider in his system.
He let his head loll to the side where he was propped up against Caius’ chest, surveying the living room. He may have gone overboard with the tree. All he could think was that it was big and bright and sparkly. The green was hardly visible beneath all the tinsel and decorations, and it was starting to tip precariously to the side thanks to the large stuffed wolf they’d tied to the top in lieu of a star. But it was real and made the room smell like pine, which was worlds better than the fake pre-decorated tree his family had always used, and Aradia had spent the last hour climbing and leaping from the branches.
Between that, the fresh snow falling outside, the crackle of the logs in the fireplace, and the quiet music filtering from the speakers, Max couldn’t have asked for a more perfect Christmas.
He wiggled against Caius’ chest with a long hum, inhaling the cinnamony apple scent of his cider as he focused on Quinn and Lukas sprawled on the other end of the couch, mirroring him and Caius, their legs tangled in the middle. Quinn’s thumb had slipped into Max’s sock and absently rubbed his ankle, while Caius’ hand had found its way under the layers of his sweater and the oversized hoodie Lukas and Quinn had gifted Max for Christmas. It hadsarcasm is my love languagewritten on the front, and Max had immediately fallen in love with it, pulling it on over his sweater despite the bulk.
“This is a very large and comfy couch,” he said, draining the last of his cider. The mild burn was pleasant, nothing like the time he’d downed half of a bottle of tequila with some painkillers to ensure he blacked out for a while. He’d never been buzzed before. It was nice.
Except Lukas had both his hands curled against Quinn’s wrist where it rested on his chest. Come to think of it, Lukas hadn’t put a mark on him like Caius and Quinn. That! That was unacceptable. They’d all three put their blood tattoo bindings on him. He deserved a claiming mark from them all too!
