Page 35 of Witchwolf

“Nothing that’ll hurt?”

I shook my head. “Never wanna hurt you.”

His next inhale shook. “Okay.”

I went for the fleshlight in my bedside table—something we sold on the adult section of the site. I wasn’t a product tester, but I’d been curious, and yeah, maybe wanted a piece of magic for myself.

I held it before his mouth. “Breathe on this.”

That was how it worked. It’d take the shape of the last person to breathe directly on it.

So yeah, I’d fucked my own ass, and I was happy to say it stacked up.

But Dakota? He was so much better.

He pulled away after he breathed on it, frowning in confusion.

“It’s shaped like you now,” I whispered in his ear. “I want you to feel how perfect you are, how good you make me feel.”

With plenty of lube, I put the toy against the tip of his leaky cock and lined mine up with his asshole. He shook, the heels of his palms pressing into the mattress to wiggle himself back.

As I worked my cock into him, his hips pressed forward, sinking deeper, inch by inch, into the fleshlight. Dakota was stuck there, pinned between my cock and his own hole, and he whined into a wet spot on the bed beneath his cheek.

“Okay, baby?”

With a whimper, he nodded. “It’s so tight.”

I grinned, feral and sharp. “I know. You feel so fucking good.”

I pulled back, and when I thrust in again, he cried out. His asshole clenched, and I leaned over him, pressing my teeth against the back of his shoulder. Couldn’t bite him, wouldn’t, but damn did I want to.

With deep, long thrusts, I drove him toward the edge, pulling the light back in time with my movements until his thighs trembled against mine. He arched his back, and when he came, his perfect ass squeezed me hard, he flexed his hips, driving into the light, and just the sound of his broken moan sent me over the edge.

Each breath shaky, he stretched out under me, and I couldn’t help it—his legs were splayed, stretched out, and I pressed my weight forward to stay buried in his ass. I liked the thought of making him mine, my come filling his wanton body, feeding the magic within him.

Nuzzling him, I licked his shoulder. I hadn’t broken his skin, but my teeth left little indents against his flesh that my wolf needed to soothe.

And when I glanced up, I saw the corner of Dakota’s lips twitch into a smile, and my heart soared.

15

Dakota

Ilay there in Jax’s arms, feeling like...

Well, I couldn’t even name the feeling, it was all so foreign to my mind. Less than a week ago, I’d been meek little Dakota, the guy who’d never had a real job, or had sex, and certainly didn’t go around demanding things.

Magic wasn’t even real.

And here I was, in my fucking boss’s bed, in his home, trying to figure out how to make him keep me. Not, like, with magic. I didn’t want to force him to keep me. I wanted to make himwantto keep me. No magic. No coercion. Just someone actually wanting me for a change.

Even my best friend didn’t want me around half the time, so why would a beautiful, rich, successful man be holding me tight against him, like he wanted to keep me there forever?

“Mages don’t respect werewolves,” he finally said, and his tone was heavy, miserable, like I’d been pressing and dragged the words out of him. “You control magic and we’re just made of it. It’s like asking the chef to respect a steak.”

That sounded kind of... actually, no, that sounded ridiculous. “But any decent chef would tell you that you should respect the steak. That acting like you’re the end-all be-all of the kitchen only results in terrible food, because you have to respect your ingredients.”

I’d spent enough free time watching cooking shows to know that. After all, I hadn’t had a clue how to cook when I got out on my own, and it had been a rude awakening.

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