Page 25 of Stalked

Mason's fingers trembled against his hips, the powerful man's control visibly fracturing. His pupils were blown wide, breath ragged. "So tight," he groaned, voice thick with wonder. "Jesus, Toby…"

Toby shivered at the raw need in Mason's voice. The alpha's composure was cracking, revealing something desperate and hungry beneath. The knowledge that he—skinny, awkward Toby—could reduce this powerful man to such a state sent an unexpected thrill through him.

He crossed his ankles behind Mason's hips, and pulled him in deeper.

The movement forced a guttural moan from both of them. Mason's hands tightened, bruising in their intensity as he surged forward, sweat-slicked muscles flexing in the moonlight. Time seemed to slow, each sensation amplified as their bodies joined more completely. The forest around them faded to background noise—all that mattered was this connection.

Toby could feel everything. Every thick inch sliding into him, stretching him in ways he'd never imagined. The intensity was overwhelming, like being consumed from the inside out. The burn transformed, morphing into something darker, hungrier. He'd never felt so vulnerable, so exposed.

So wanted.

He could feel every ridge, every vein as Mason sank deeper. His own cock throbbed, leaking steadily against his stomach. The fear wasn't stopping him from wanting this. It was a realization that should have been troubling, but instead felt like a dark liberation.

A whimper escaped him. He pressed his face against Mason's chest, breathing in sweat and musk and something wild. The scent cut through his panic, grounding him.

"So tight," Mason growled, teeth bared. "Feel how you grip me, baby. Like you never want to let go…"

Toby's heart slammed against his ribs as Mason's cock filled him completely. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "I don't."

Shit. He clamped his mouth shut. Heat rushed to his face.Way to sound desperate, idiot.

Mason stilled, his bigger frame frozen above Toby's slender one. Slowly, he pulled back, his massive cock sliding almost out, making Toby whimper at the emptiness. His calloused hand gripped Toby's jaw, forcing his face up.

Toby had no choice but to look at him—at the moonlight highlighting the silver threading through Mason's dark hair, at the raw masculinity carved into features that had seen decades Toby had yet to experience.

"You think I'd ever let you go?" Mason's lips curled into that predatory smile, moonlight glinting off fangs too sharp to be human. "The moment I scented you in that office, I knew you were mine."

He slammed forward, burying his cock to the hilt. Toby moaned, arms wrapping instinctively around Mason's broad shoulders. He'd spent years perfecting his don't-give-a-fuck attitude, using sarcasm like armor. Now he was falling apart under this older man's hands.

Mason pushed forward with torturous patience, sinking in inch by excruciating inch. "Oh god," Toby whimpered, nails digging in. His body trembled as it struggled to accommodate Mason's size. This was nothing like his fumbling experiments with toys in his dorm room. This was primal. Real.

When Mason started to move—pulling out slowly before slamming back in—Toby's smart mouth finally shut down. No witty comebacks now. Just desperate, needy sounds he'd deny making tomorrow.

"That's it," Mason growled against his ear. "Let me hear you. Let me know who's making you feel this way."

Each thrust punched little broken sounds from Toby's throat. The forest around them disappeared—nothing existed beyond the brutal rhythm of Mason's cock and the strong hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.

Toby had spent years protecting himself with sarcasm and standoffish remarks. Now he was coming undone on a forest floor, moaning like a cheap porno as a man—a fucking werewolf—twice his size ruined him for anyone else.

And god help him, he loved it.

"Fuck, you were made for this," Mason snarled, pounding into him relentlessly. "Made forme."

The words shouldn't have turned him on. They should've triggered his independence alarm, made him roll his eyes. Instead, they sent electric currents straight to his neglected cock. "Yes," Toby gasped, shocking himself with his honesty. "Yours—only yours."

He managed a breathless laugh. "But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it till I'm dead."

The snarky comment, even as his body trembled on the edge of ecstasy, pulled a rumbling chuckle from Mason's chest. "There's my sharp-tongued boy," Mason growled approvingly, nipping at Toby's earlobe.

Mason's rhythm changed then, his powerful thrusts becoming deeper, harder, more relentless. He pulled Toby's hips up higher, changing the angle until—

"Fuck!" Toby cried out, his back arching off the log as Mason's cock slammed against that perfect spot inside him. Stars exploded behind his eyelids with each brutal thrust. His clever words dissolved into desperate moans as Mason reduced him to nothing but raw sensation and need.

"That's it," Mason snarled, his fingers digging into Toby's flesh. "Let them hear who you belong to."

Huh? Who? Toby raised his head from the log—and froze. Through sweat-dampened hair, he could see the ring of watching werewolves in the shadows, their expressions hungry and primal. His face burned, but instead of wanting to hide, he felt a surge of pride. These powerful creatures wanted him.

"Look how they're watching you," Mason's hot breath tickled his ear. "Every one of them wishes they could take my place."

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