Page 26 of Stalked

His cock plunged deeper, finding that spot inside that made Toby's vision blur. "Such a perfect little mate," Mason growled. "They'd kill each other for a chance to breed you. To feel how tight you are."

The crude words should have shocked him, should have made him want to curl up and disappear. Instead, Toby pushed back against Mason's thrusts, seeking more. "Oh god," Toby whimpered, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the rough bark of the log. "Mason, please..."

He wasn't even sure what he was begging for. Harder, faster, more,everything. He just knew he needed Mason like he needed air, craved the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed and possessed.

Mason's hands gripped Toby's hips hard enough to bruise as he pistoned in and out, the obscene slap of skin on skin echoing through the clearing. Toby could feel the heat of the other werewolves' gazes on his exposed body, knew they were drinking in the sight of him being split open on Mason's cock. The knowledge sent twin currents of shame and arousal coursing through him, his untouched erection throbbing between his legs.

He should have felt mortified, being debased like this in front of an audience. But all Toby could focus on was the mounting ecstasy, the sense of rightness. Like his entire life had been leading up to this moment, to being taken and owned by Mason.

No hiding who he really was, no childish power plays—just a werewolf alpha claiming his mate in public for all to see, primal and natural.

Toby tossed his head back with a throaty moan as Mason changed the angle of his thrusts, his thick cock now dragging deliciously over that sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. Sparks of pleasure ignited behind Toby's eyelids, his body quivering as he climbed higher and higher towards the peak.

In that moment, Toby felt cherished, worshipped, like the center of Mason's universe. The shy, awkward boy who had always been overlooked and underestimated was transforming, blossoming under Mason's touch into something wanton and desirable.

Toby keened, desperate. Nothing existed beyond the relentless slide of Mason's cock and the weight of his body. Holy fuck, he was being ruined—absolutely wrecked—and he never wanted it to stop.

"Fuck, look at you take it," Mason growled, his voice rough as gravel. Sweat trickled down his temple as he fought to maintain control. "Gonna fill you up. Make sure every wolf for miles knows who you belong to."

The filthy promise sent a bolt of electric heat straight to Toby's cock. He should've been embarrassed by how much those possessive words turned him on, but he was too far gone to care.

Something tugged at Toby's attention, telling him he should think about something —werewolves, come, breeding…?— but it was impossible to concentrate with Mason pumping into him. His mind went blank, all higher thought processes shutting down until there was nothing but sensation. The heat of Mason's body blanketing him, the musky scent of sweat and arousal, the obscene sound of spit and precome as Mason's cock drove into him over and over.

He could feel his orgasm building, his untouched cock throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. Mason's thrusts grew erratic, his rhythm getting sharper as his own climax approached.

He was so close, every nerve ending alight with pleasure bordering on pain. Just a little more, a few more perfect hits against that spot inside him...

Then Toby felt it—something impossibly thick pressing against his already stretched entrance.

Oh.

Mason's knot.

Chapter twelve

Mason

Mason'sknotbumpedagainstToby's stretched rim, a reminder of what he was holding back.

Fuck, it was torture. Every instinct screamed at him to push forward, to lock them together, to fill this perfect boy with his seed until it had nowhere to go but deeper.

But he kept himself in check, pulling back just enough with each thrust to keep his swelling knot from breaching that tight ring of muscle. Not yet. Not until Toby begged for it.

Sweat dripped down Mason's back as he maintained the brutal pace, watching Toby come undone beneath him. The shy college boy who'd first caught his eye was gone, replaced by this writhing, moaning creature with flushed skin and desperate eyes.

"Mason," Toby gasped, his voice wrecked. "Please—"

"Please what?" Mason growled, driving in deep enough to make Toby's back arch off the forest floor. "Use your words, little mate."

He knew exactly what Toby wanted, could smell the need pouring off him, but a dark, possessive part of him needed to hear it. Needed Toby to acknowledge what was happening between them.

Mason dug his fingers into Toby's pale hips, hard enough to leave marks that would bloom into perfect bruises by morning. Evidence of this night. His claim.

"You feel that?" he snarled, deliberately letting his knot catch on Toby's rim before pulling back. "You feel what you're doing to me?"

Toby's eyes widened, pupils blown with lust as realization dawned. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking a fresh bead of precum.

"That's right," Mason said, voice rough with restraint. "My knot wants inside you. Wants to lock us together while I pump you full."

---