With a low growl, Cody flips Simon back onto the bed. Cold air separates them for an agonizing instant until Cody leans over. He braces, hands splayed on either side of Simon’s head.
Tonight, Cody is stronger. Simon’s strength and magic are still shackled by poison, and Cody’s body hums with animal force. All that power barely contained, focused entirely on him.Simon was taught to be wary of creatures stronger than himself. Security comes from overpowering any threat or hiding. Trading favors. Trust was never an option.
But Cody’s strength and focus are too exhilarating to hide from.
“Simon, I think…” Cody’s expression twists, feral, with some internal conflict.
Simon traces Cody’s bare arms, from biceps to shoulder. “What do you think? Or—” He hooks one leg around Cody to yank him closer. “—we could stop thinking. Just for tonight.”
Cody jerks, rutting their cocks together in a blaze of heat. The look on his face is better than Simon’s own pleasure. “Okay. If you want.”
“What doyouwant?” Simon asks, smirking.
It’s not a fair question. Not when Simon’s stretching his arms over his head, spreading himself out beneath Cody’s gaze.
Cody’s laugh is more like a snarl. Pinning Simon by the wrists, Cody leans close. “I want to fuck you so hard, you smell like me for a week.”
Simon shivers at the brush of lips against his ear. “Just a week?” He arches against Cody’s firm body. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Cody sits up in a ripple of abdominal muscles. Simon half-expects some sort of sardonic comment. Like what you see? He would have been forced to answer yes.
“Take your sweater off so I don’t ruin it,” Cody says, clearly controlling himself. “It probably costs a thousand dollars or something. Vintage. Antique.”
“About twenty bucks.” Simon twists obligingly and tosses the sweater across the room. “I got it on clearance. These jeans, on theother hand…”
He doesn’t remember buying the jeans. All that matters is getting them off. Which he’s about to do when Cody pushes him back down. Very pushy. Simon likes that, particularly when Cody reaches for his fly.
Okay, yes. That’s better than taking them off himself.
Cody slips the button open and tugs the zipper, his knuckles brushing the hard line of Simon’s cock. The touch is electric, rocking through Simon’s body. He hears a groan, not his, and looks into Cody’s face.
He’s nearly undone by what he finds there: an expression of incandescent wonder. Raw, stripped down, ravenous enough to consume them both.
Simon wants desperately to know what that might entail.
Cody cups Simon through the denim. “I assume you’re not a virgin.”
“No, but it’s been about a decade, and I’m tired of waiting.” Simon bucks into the firm touch. “Get on with it.”
Rolling his eyes, Cody obeys the demand. After some awkward wiggling—immortality and supernatural reflexes can’t fix everything—jeans and underwear sail across the room to join the sweater. Cody slides from the bed to shuck off his sweatpants.
Simon leans back, one leg propped up, ignoring his own needy cock in favor of admiring the view. Cody’s turned away, so Simon is free to observe without being seen. Yet he knows Cody is aware of him. Listening, scenting.
Every muscle and sinew moves in harmony, elevating to an art the act of rummaging in a drawer. Cody returns to bed with a plastic bottle in hand. Simon is more interested in Cody’s body, now fully exposed.
Simon had seen him briefly after the shift, of course. Too briefly. The mood wasn’t right. Now the mood is perfect, and Simon wants to savor every detail. Particularly Cody’s cock, jutting red from the nest of dark curls. Imagining that thick length spearing him has Simon nearly salivating with need.
The mattress dips, and Simon’s world tilts too, as Cody kneels between his legs. Callused fingers stroke the underside of Simon’s thigh.
“Do you want to top?” Cody asks.
“I want you in me,” Simon demands, and answering hunger flares in Cody’s eyes.
This is insane. Simon knows this, a fact both learned and inherited, as he drags Cody into another blazing kiss. As a bottle cap clicks, and wet fingers map an eager path beneath his thigh. He’s about to fuck a werewolf. A werewolf he only met a month ago. It’s been so long since he allowed himself to get close to anyone.
Nobody else matters as slick fingers rub over his hole, a shock of heat. Simon moans into Cody’s mouth. Manages a sound more whining encouragement than actual words.
Cody’s first finger pushes in easily. It’s been a decade, but Simon’s body opens like he was made to take Cody in. His own hands wander, tangling in Cody’s hair, gliding over firm shoulders and arms. His nails dig into Cody’s back, not quite deep enough to tear flesh.
