Danny tilted his head to the side until their mouths almost touched. For a moment, as brown eyes met his, Jack thought Danny was actually going to force the conversation. Instead, the corner of Danny’s mouth tilted in a half smile and he drawled, “Well, we’ve got time to kill, and that didn’t take that long, so—”
Jack kissed him hard enough to press Danny’s head back against the wood and mash his teeth against Danny’s lips. He chewed whatever smart-arse comment had been on the seam of Danny’s lips and swallowed it.
Maybe, one day, the memory of that smart mouth would be all Jack had. But for now he had Danny. Or he’d have him in a minute.
“Next time,” he said as he broke the kiss, “maybe I’ll suck your cock.”
He didn’t particularly mean it… maybe, not until the suggestion made Danny flush a bright, flustered pink from his collar to his temples. That clever tongue was left to splutter, something about “he could” and “didn’t have to.”
Clever as Danny was—and Da had always described Danny as “sharp-witted enough to cut himself”—all it had ever taken was a look or a well-placed hand from Jack to leave him blush-red and bumbling.
It would be a lie if Jack pretended he didn’t appreciate that. Enough to play human games in bed.
He pressed a dry, closed-mouth kiss to Danny’s cheek. It would have been almost chaste, but Danny had Jack’s cock on his breath and they both knew Jack was going to fuck him next.
“When was the last time I fucked you in my da’s house?” he asked.
He knew Danny well enough to know that would throw him off for a second as he tried to remember. While he counted back, Jack scruffed him and dragged him out of the bathroom and down the hall to his bedroom. Danny tripped over his own feet and growled in protest for the sake of it but went along anyhow.
Given time, his da would have cleared it out. Or Gregor would have marked all the corners to make a point. The end of the world hadn’t given either of them a chance to get around to that. Instead his bedroom was much as he’d left it, sheets tangled on the bed and clothes hung limply over the open drawers on the scarred old chest in the corner. Clean—Da had chucked their clothes out the windows and hosed the rooms down a couple of times when they were pubescent—but with the distinct, comforting scent of mine worked into the fabrics and walls.
“Asshole,” Danny accused with a snort as Jack shoved him toward the bed. “I wasn’t going to argue.”
He unbuttoned his jeans, and they slid down over lean hips to flash a slice of pale skin across his stomach. The jeans caught there, held up by the jut of Danny’s hard cock as Danny grabbed the bottom of his sweater. He dragged it half up, tangled around his arms, and Jack smirked as he shoved him back onto the bed.
Danny sprawled back over the mattress, elbows braced behind him. Half dressed, his cock trapped under his jeans and stomach taut as he squirmed out of his sweater, he looked ridiculous and fuckable at the same time. Jack eyed the thick bulge of Danny’s cock and considered his offer to suck it. The images that flickered through his head—the noises that Danny would make, his hands on Danny to pin him down as he squirmed—appealed enough to get him hard again.
The ache of his cock—and the pressure of the full moon deadline neither of them wanted to acknowledge—dissuaded him. If he only had time for one thing, he wanted to be buried in Danny.
Jack flipped Danny over on the bed, grabbed the waistband of his jeans, and yanked them down enough to expose the pale, firm curve of Danny’s ass. Sprawled out on the bed, Danny swore indignantly as he tried to get out of his sweater. Muscles tightened in long strips along his back and made his asscheeks clench.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Jack said. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock. It was already hard, still sticky from his spilled come, and the rough jerk he gave it made him clench from his balls to his ass. He rubbed his thumb over the wet head and then worked his hand down to roughly squeeze the base. The pressure built in his balls. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
First time he wanted to besure. It was easy with wolves, but humans did things differently. Just because they smelled or moved like they wanted to fuck didn’t mean they did. After Danny had spent so many years away, Jack didn’t want to misread anything.
Now he just liked to hear Danny say it, his voice raw with hunger and impatience as he begged for Jack’s cock.
“You know I do,” Danny rasped out as he finally pulled his top over his head and tossed it off the bed. He pushed his shaggy curls back from his face and looked over his shoulder with irritation as he propped himself up on his hands. Something he saw—and Jack didn’t want to know what it was—made his face soften. “I want you to fuck me, Jack. Please?”
The plea sent a shudder of reaction down Jack’s back that ended somewhere tight and tender in his balls. He gave his cock a last jerk, the ache of it almost uncomfortable, and then reached out to grab Danny’s cheeks and pull them apart. The pucker of his asshole tightened as the cold air reached it, and then it relaxed as Jack pressed the slick crown of his cock against it. It stretched open under the pressure, tight around the thickness of Jack’s shaft as he buried himself inside Danny in one hard thrust.
Danny groaned and dropped his head between his shoulders as Jack filled him. His hands twisted into the sheets and his ass squeezed around Jack, warm and firm as it squeezed around his cock. The muscles in his back tightened, taut as cords under his skin. Despite the need that ached in Jack’s hips and thighs to just pound into Danny, to fuck him breathless and compliant into the bed, he held back for a moment.
Just until Danny’s shoulders loosened and he rocked back against Jack in silent encouragement. Then he hooked his hands around Danny’s hips, anchored in the jut of his hipbones, and thrust into him with rough, eager strokes. His hips slapped hard against Danny’s ass and jarred him forward each time his cock slid deeply inside him.
Danny fell back onto his elbows as he braced himself against the mattress. He groaned desperately and pushed his ass back to meet each thrust. Sweat slicked their bodies and seeped out of Jack’s freshly soaped skin as they ground against each other.
Heat pulled at Jack’s balls—a dull, almost too tender ache as they got ready to spill their load again with each hard stroke. It itched under his skin with a prickle of sensation along his nerves that settled tight and vibrating in his gut. He leaned forward and grabbed Danny’s shoulder to pull him back up onto his knees. The wiry length of Danny’s body pressed back against Jack’s chest as Jack’s cock was buried deep inside him.
“You’ll never want anyone else the way you do me,” Jack promised against Danny’s throat, words punctuated with the scrape of teeth. “I’m the only one who knows you like this.”
He reached over Danny’s hip and grabbed his cock. Thin skin pulled taut around the solid shaft creased under Jack’s fingers as he dragged his hand down in a quick, rough stroke. There was probably a smart retort somewhere in Danny’s head, but all he could muster was a ragged groan as he bit down on his lower lip.
Jack rocked his hips in two slow, deep strokes, his thighs taut as he stretched up onto his tiptoes to get his cock in deeper. He felt Danny suck in his breath and the taut tug of his stomach and spread of his shoulders in reaction.
“Please,” Danny groaned as he reached back and tangled his fingers through Jack’s hair. He turned his head, and Jack felt the graze of warm, damp lips across his temple. “I need you.”
That was enough to wrench Jack right up to the edge until he could feel himself balanced on the brink of orgasm. He spilled them both back down onto the bed, legs tangled around each other, and pressed his mouth against the crease of Danny’s shoulder as he hammered his cock into him. Danny squirmed, caught between pushing back into each thrust and the urge to grind his cock into Jack’s tight fist.
