face.
“I’m yours,” he said, though it almost sounded like a question, as though he were confirming that this was real.
“Yes,” Morgan said, removing his fingers and spitting once more into his hand. “And I’m yours.”
He stroked the saliva over himself, biting his lower lip at the sheer pleasure he felt. His eyes fell shut for a second before he opened them again and noted how pink Terry’s cheeks had become.
His hand still moved up and down over his swollen prick, and his
Mated to the Wild Omega 41
eyes were half-lidded as he watched Morgan pleasure himself.
Morgan smiled at him. There was better in store for him than just watching that.
Morgan grabbed hold of one of Terry’s ankles. “Put your legs up onto my shoulders,” he said.
Terry did as he was told, and the backs of his knees fit so nicely on Morgan’s shoulders.
“Push out when I push in,” he said, and then made one more prayer that what he’d done would be enough. Despite the werewolfstrength thing, even he hadn’t ever done this before without something to help it along.
He took hold of the base of his dick and lined the head up with Terry’s stretched pucker.
He couldn’t remember if Terry had said anything to him after that because the second Morgan started pressing himself inside, that was it. His thinking brain put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door to his mind, and all Morgan was left with was the sheer animal pleasure and the need to ram into his mate with all the force and speed as though it was their last time as well as their first.
Terry’s fingers turned into claws and pulled on the skin of Morgan’s back, but he didn’t care, even when pain raked across his back and warm trails of blood spilled. All he could focus on was that he was balls-deep inside his mate, and he never wanted to be anywhere else but right here.
Terry moaned loudly, completely uncaring that there were other people in the house who might hear him, and Morgan soon followed with that same mentality. He pushed and pulled himself in and out of Terry’s body until the bed started to move in the same rhythm as his thrusting hips.
“You. Are. Mine. Forever,” Morgan said through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a sharp lunge of his pelvis.
Then it happened. Though they were mated, a mated pair still needed to claim each other for everything to be complete on both
42 Marcy Jacks
ends. Otherwise there was still that little piece on both sides that remained out of sync.
Just as Morgan sped up, feeling the peak of his pleasure looming, he felt that connection between him and the man beneath him grow stronger, more solid, until there was nothing in the world that could separate them.
He kept on moving, continuing to milk himself inside Terry until his cock was finally sated, but Terry still humped desperately against him.
“Please, don’t stop. I need…”
“I’ve got you,” Morgan said, and he reached down and took hold of Terry’s still-swollen prick.
Only now that he was no longer intoxicated on his lust was he able to look down and really appreciate what he had in his hand.
Terry was long and thick, and from the looks of things, a little longer than Morgan was, but Morgan was definitely a bit thicker. Terry was also cut, unlike Morgan. Werewolves born and raised out in the wild certainly didn’t have that procedure done, so that could only mean that Terry’s lapse into the world of feral werewolves had happened more recently. A least after the last winter, judging by the way the poor kid was handling this winter on his own.
A shiver passed through Terry’s body as Morgan’s hand gripped him and then stroked up and down. It was kind of strange, the way Terry was still canting his hips against Morgan’s, while Morgan stroked his dick.
Despite how he
“I’m yours,” he said, though it almost sounded like a question, as though he were confirming that this was real.
“Yes,” Morgan said, removing his fingers and spitting once more into his hand. “And I’m yours.”
He stroked the saliva over himself, biting his lower lip at the sheer pleasure he felt. His eyes fell shut for a second before he opened them again and noted how pink Terry’s cheeks had become.
His hand still moved up and down over his swollen prick, and his
Mated to the Wild Omega 41
eyes were half-lidded as he watched Morgan pleasure himself.
Morgan smiled at him. There was better in store for him than just watching that.
Morgan grabbed hold of one of Terry’s ankles. “Put your legs up onto my shoulders,” he said.
Terry did as he was told, and the backs of his knees fit so nicely on Morgan’s shoulders.
“Push out when I push in,” he said, and then made one more prayer that what he’d done would be enough. Despite the werewolfstrength thing, even he hadn’t ever done this before without something to help it along.
He took hold of the base of his dick and lined the head up with Terry’s stretched pucker.
He couldn’t remember if Terry had said anything to him after that because the second Morgan started pressing himself inside, that was it. His thinking brain put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door to his mind, and all Morgan was left with was the sheer animal pleasure and the need to ram into his mate with all the force and speed as though it was their last time as well as their first.
Terry’s fingers turned into claws and pulled on the skin of Morgan’s back, but he didn’t care, even when pain raked across his back and warm trails of blood spilled. All he could focus on was that he was balls-deep inside his mate, and he never wanted to be anywhere else but right here.
Terry moaned loudly, completely uncaring that there were other people in the house who might hear him, and Morgan soon followed with that same mentality. He pushed and pulled himself in and out of Terry’s body until the bed started to move in the same rhythm as his thrusting hips.
“You. Are. Mine. Forever,” Morgan said through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a sharp lunge of his pelvis.
Then it happened. Though they were mated, a mated pair still needed to claim each other for everything to be complete on both
42 Marcy Jacks
ends. Otherwise there was still that little piece on both sides that remained out of sync.
Just as Morgan sped up, feeling the peak of his pleasure looming, he felt that connection between him and the man beneath him grow stronger, more solid, until there was nothing in the world that could separate them.
He kept on moving, continuing to milk himself inside Terry until his cock was finally sated, but Terry still humped desperately against him.
“Please, don’t stop. I need…”
“I’ve got you,” Morgan said, and he reached down and took hold of Terry’s still-swollen prick.
Only now that he was no longer intoxicated on his lust was he able to look down and really appreciate what he had in his hand.
Terry was long and thick, and from the looks of things, a little longer than Morgan was, but Morgan was definitely a bit thicker. Terry was also cut, unlike Morgan. Werewolves born and raised out in the wild certainly didn’t have that procedure done, so that could only mean that Terry’s lapse into the world of feral werewolves had happened more recently. A least after the last winter, judging by the way the poor kid was handling this winter on his own.
A shiver passed through Terry’s body as Morgan’s hand gripped him and then stroked up and down. It was kind of strange, the way Terry was still canting his hips against Morgan’s, while Morgan stroked his dick.
Despite how he
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