Finally, Gethin withdrew his fingers. And stopped. Sorley twisted to glare at him over one shoulder. “Now what?”
“Height difference. Not gonna work this way.” Sorley’s eyes narrowed, but yeah, now he thought about it, the wolf wasn’t wrong. Before he could speak to offer a suggestion, Gethin flipped him around, hoisted him up like he was made of paper, and settled him in mid air with his back to the wall. A few seconds more and one of Sorley’s shoes hit the ground, his trousers now dangling from the opposite ankle. Letting go with one hand, Gethin reached between them. Sorley gulped as the head of the shifter’s sizeable cock pressed against his rim. “Sink onto me, I’ve gotcha,” Gethin said, brown gaze boring into Sorley. “C’mon, dude, I won’t drop ya.”
Sorley scoffed. “Those oversized rocks in your shirt gotta be useful for something.” He couldn’t look away as he did as he was told. The wolf held him steady, giving him just enough play to lower himself carefully. “Fuck, your cock’s enormous.”
Gethin smirked. “I’m in proportion, yeah.” His smile faded as Sorley sank against him, and he sucked in a breath that suggested he wasn’t feeling as chill as he looked. “You want nice and slow or…?”
“Fuck me like you mean it, wolf man. Like I said, I won’t break.”
The first thrust caught him off-guard and he gasped. Shit, he might actually have bitten off more than he could chew. Gethin’s dick wasbig,and the rest of him was built entirely of muscles. He hammered into Sorley, holding him easily, rolling his hips to change the angle of thrust, lighting up every nerve ending Sorley had, and plenty he’d not realised he possessed.
It was a wild ride. Sorley, used to being in control when he fucked, was half terrified, half out of his mind with ecstasy at being used like a sex toy. If he’d not been horny after feeding, surely common sense would have had him running in the opposite direction to let off some steam. This was madness. Except, he still wouldn’t trust the wolf further than he could throw him, but withthis,he somehow knew he was safe.
He managed to get his hand around his cock, stroked a couple of times and was suddenly coming, biting his other hand to stop himself from crying out as his orgasm tore through him like a tornado, obliterating every thought except the exquisite pleasure setting his neurons on fire. He came with his entire body, shooting ropes of cum over his abs with every jerk and flex of his hips.
When the fireworks cleared and he could focus, he melted against the cool brickwork and opened one eye. Ha, so much for otherworldly senses — there could have been a marching band pass by and he wouldn’t have noticed. Luckily, the alley was deserted.
He poked at Gethin’s bicep somewhere under his jacket. “You okay in there?” The wolf was slumped against Sorley’s shoulder, his breathing harsh in the dark and quiet.
“Jesusfuck.”There was a pause. Then, “Yeah, gimme a minute, all right?”
Sorley’s brain rebooted. Ah, Gethin had come too, of course. He was pinned, cradled in the wolf’s embrace, his own legs now rather limply looped over Gethin’s arms. He let his head fall back and waited.
It was awkward as fuck, tucking themselves back in, straightening their clothes, trying to make themselves vaguely presentable, all the while not making eye contact. They returned to Gethin’s in total silence.
Sorley heaved a silent sigh when Gethin closed and locked the door behind them. The initial buzz from feeding had worn off, and now he felt unsettled and antsy. The fuck had been off-the-charts amazing but what the hell had he been thinking, getting nasty with a wolf shifter, especially this one? This bloody man mountain with his sarcastic attitude and hisreally annoyingly kind brown eyes.Sorley didn’t do kind. Didn’t want kind. He wanted blood, respect, a safe place to wait out the eternal sodding daylight that even in Britain was too much, and yeah, sure, lots of sex. Sue him, he was young — if you didn’t know he was a vampire — and had a high libido, so why shouldn’t he love sex?
He stomped upstairs behind Gethin,notnoticing his delectable arse encased in dark denim, and halted outside the door to the wolf’s bedroom.
“My clothes need a wash.”
Gethin turned and raised his eyebrows, saying mildly, “Machine’s in the laundry room, next to the kitchen.”
“I don’t have anything else to wear!”
“You turned up your nose at what I offered earlier. I don’t do designer gear in visitor sizes, Hetheridge. Take it or leave it.” He appeared to be thinking. “There’s a spare towelling robe in the shower room downstairs. Don’t overfill the softener drawer.” He disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door, quietly but firmly.
Sorley stood open-mouthed on the landing. Then because he really did feel scummy, he sighed, out loud this time, and headed back downstairs, muttering under his breath, “It’s Hetheridge-Parker, you prick.”
Showered once more and wrapped in the God-awful but mercifully clean dressing gown, he scowled as he worked out how to use the washing machine, then poked about in the living room, finally deciding to see what was on the television. Gethin evidently didn’t care much for visual entertainment as he only had one subscription service. Sorley found an action show and put it on in the background, unwilling to admit, even to himself, he wanted company. He dug a set of playing cards out of a drawer and amused himself building castles. A faint grumbling sound emanated from the first floor. He stood and listened for a moment before recognising it as gentle snores. The damned wolf had just gone to bed and left him!
It was light and he’d flipped through four entire series by the time he heard Gethin’s tread on the stairs. He waited until the aroma of toast assailed his nostrils, then stalked through the house to check how dry his clothes were. The wolf had a tumble dryer but there was no way he was chancing his expensive shirt in one, to say nothing of his silk boxers.
His boxers were dry. He slipped them on, feeling slightly better. He nodded tersely at Gethin.
“Morning.”
“Morning, princess. Sleep okay? Oh yes, I forgot, you’re a creature of the night.” Gethin eyed him over the rim of a huge mug of tea, seemingly amused.
“Don’t call me princess.”
The wolf crunched a mouthful of toast and what smelled like apricot jam. He licked his lips where a glob of butter clung, then eyed Sorley again.
“I think you like it. You have tells.”
“I do not.”
“Believe what you like. Don’t bother me either way.” He slurped his tea again. “What time can you call about your missing phone?”
