Page 22 of Stalked

Toby's hands gripped the edges of the log, knuckles white with tension as Mason worked his way lower, trailing kisses down his sternum, his tongue dipping into the shallow depression of his navel. Each touch sent fresh waves of need pulsing through him, his cock now painfully hard, leaking steadily.

"Please," Toby whispered, unable to stop himself, hips lifting slightly in silent offering. "Mason, please."

But Mason merely smiled against his skin, deliberately avoiding where Toby needed him most. "Patience. I've waited too long to rush this now."

Mason's mouth traced the cut of muscle at Toby's hip instead, his tongue following the natural V-line down, down, down—only to veer away at the last moment. The frustrated whine that escaped Toby's throat was embarrassingly needy.

"Something you want?" Mason asked, the smug bastard, lips brushing the tender skin of Toby's inner thigh.

"Touch me," Toby demanded, voice breaking slightly. "For fuck's sake, Mason."

"I am touching you," Mason replied, punctuating his words with a gentle bite to Toby's thigh that made him jerk. "Right here." Another kiss, higher. "And here." A lick along the crease where thigh met groin. "All in good time."

Toby let his head fall back with a thunk against the log, frustration and arousal battling for dominance. His cock throbbed with each beat of his heart, leaking a small puddle onto his stomach, completely neglected as Mason methodically worked his way down one leg.

"You're a sadist," Toby accused breathlessly, legs trembling as Mason's lips traced the sensitive spot behind his knee.

Mason's chuckle was dark, promising. "You have no idea."

By the time Mason had kissed and nibbled his way down to Toby's ankles and back up the other leg, the boy was a quivering mess, all pretense of control abandoned. The scent of need emanating from him was nearly overwhelming now, sharp and sweet and demanding.

"Mason," Toby pleaded, beyond caring how desperate he sounded. "Please, I need—"

"I know exactly what you need," Mason interrupted, his hands moving to the backs of Toby's thighs, pressing them up and apart in one smooth motion that left him completely exposed.

Toby froze, sudden realization dawning in those expressive eyes as Mason settled between his spread legs, face level with his most intimate place. The wolf inside Mason rumbled with approval, urging him to taste, to prepare, to claim.

"Wait," Toby stammered, heat flooding his face that had nothing to do with arousal. "Are you going to—"

"Yes," Mason confirmed, his breath hot against Toby's most intimate place. "I'm going to taste all of you, remember?"

Mason watched the conflict play across Toby's features—excitement warring with embarrassment, desire with vulnerability. It was fascinating to witness, this unraveling of all his careful defenses.

"I've never—" Toby started, then stopped, swallowing hard.

"I know," Mason said, gentleness momentarily replacing the hunger in his voice. "Trust me."

Before Toby could formulate a response, Mason's tongue pressed flat against him, hot and wet and deliberate.

Chapter ten

Mason

Thesensationwasclearlyso foreign, so intense that Toby couldn't contain the shocked moan that tore from his throat.

It should have felt dirty, obscene—and Mason could see in Toby's eyes that it did, but in the best possible way, a forbidden pleasure that had Toby's pupils dilating further. When Mason's tongue circled the sensitive ring of muscle before dipping slightly inside, Toby's entire body shuddered in response.

"Oh fuck," he gasped, hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth bark. "Oh god, Mason,fuck."

The desperate edge in Toby's voice fed something primal in Mason. He doubled his efforts, determined to break through the last of Toby's reservations, to make him forget everything but the pleasure Mason was giving him.

Mason grinned into the heat of Toby's flesh and unleashed his hunger. His tongue moved with primal purpose—firm strokes, teasing flicks, deep thrusts that made Toby's entire body jerk. Each movement deliberate, designed to break down resistance, to claim and mark.

Toby writhed beneath him, hips bucking toward Mason's mouth with instinctive need. His moans grew less controlled, less guarded with each passing second.

The wolf inside Mason paced faster, snarling, fighting for control.Take him. Now. Make him ours.Mason pressed Toby's thighs wider, holding him open, vulnerable. The position was an offering—a sacrifice laid out just for him.

"More... please," Toby begged, voice cracking with raw desperation.

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