Page 28 of Wolfgang

“Of course, darling,” Wolfe finally said, bringing Eric out of his horny reverie. Wolfe’s voice was no longer smooth and steady. “Whatever you say.”

Eric looked down pointedly at that impressive bulge, encased in maroon velvet. “I’m not helping you with that.”

Wolfe cleared his throat, adjusting himself. “I wouldn’t dream of asking.”

“Good.” Eric’s hand was sticky. He was going to need a washcloth. Or that ugly robe. But he also needed to sleep. And with that horrible discomfort finally eased, he thought he might even succeed. “I’m going to nap now.”

“Of course.” Wolfe nodded absently, wiping a hand over his mouth, somehow making even that gesture look classy. “Build your strength, darling.”

Eric was tempted—just for a moment—to ask him to stay. Some part of him knew he’d sleep better surrounded by that scent. But he didn’t want to let Wolfe win so soon, did he? Even more than that, he needed a moment outside of Wolfe’s overwhelming presence to collect himself.

“So you can go now,” he prompted.

Wolfe pursed those well-kissed lips in what seemed to be irritation, but Eric could still feel the soft edges of his amusement whispering through the bond. Didnothingpiss this guy off? For a reported psychopath, he was ridiculously unflappable.

Or was thatbecausehe was a psychopath?

Eric was too tired to ponder it seriously.

Wolfe rose from the bed in one graceful motion, adjusting his slacks once more around what had to be a painful erection.

Eric tried to stay silent, to let him leave without another word. But he couldn’t help the small “thank you” that came out.

He was rewarded with a flash of genuine surprise on Wolfe’s face. “Anytime you request my presence, pet, I’ll be there.”

Eric tried to spot the lie in those words, but maybe his fatigue was making him gullible.

Wolfe sounded like he meant it.

ten

Wolfe

Wolfestaredatthecooling cum on his fingertips, his back to the door of their as-yet-unfurnished en suite bedroom. He’d barely made it a step inside before he’d been fishing his cock out of his slacks and stroking himself to a hurried completion, furtive and furious, like some kind of hormonal teenager after witnessing their first porno.

But who could blame him? Eric had been simply divine back there, a glorious revelation. That big body trembling with the force of his lust, overwhelmed by his need for Wolfe’s presence—not to mention his demand for Wolfe’s scent, his kiss—even as he denied himself Wolfe’s touch.

He was a perfect specimen: petty and stubborn and gorgeous.

And thenoiseshe’d made. It had been almost a shame to cover Eric’s mouth with his own, if only for the fact that it muffled all those delicious moans. What sounds would Wolfe draw out of him, once Eric gave in fully to the bond? Wolfe could only imagine a veritable symphony of whimpers, moans, and husky groans.

Want him, Wolfe’s beast whined, already itching to be back with their mate.

It had been content enough at Eric’s bedside, willing to suppress its urge to claim in order to witness their mate’s furious fucking into his fist. But it was all petulance again now that they’d stepped away.

“We have to be patient,” Wolfe soothed, feeling uncharacteristically generous after these recent delightful events. “We’ve frightened him enough.”

He did his slacks up with his clean hand, then walked over to the bathroom to wash off his mess, using a few spare drops of water to slick back his hair, which had become very close to mussed in the act of kissing his mate.

He’d lost himself to it, in a way he never had before. Kissing wasn’t usually much of a draw for him. It denoted a certain…intimacy he’d never looked for in his sexual encounters. Sex was for release, not connection. What would have been the point?

But with Eric practically begging him for it? Clenching his demanding fist into Wolfe’s shirt and giving him a chance to taste those lips, indulge in devouring all those delicious, muffled groans?

It would have taken a saint to resist. And Wolfe was anything but.

He wanted to taste him again, as soon as possible. He wanted his mouth on that girthy cock, wanted to suck out Eric’s cum, wanted to drink his blood all over again.

Christ. Wolfe winced at his own reflection, at the greed shining back at him in his own eyes. It wasn’t the emotion itself that bothered him but the fact that he was displaying it so obviously.

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