Page 49 of The Wulver's Bond
Moss knew exactly what he was doing. He’d taken to lounging around the cave naked as well, save for his velvet frock coat. The smell of him was everywhere. Moss’s musk and hisneedeven wove into the fibres of Arran’s bed, causing him to get hard as soon as he lay down in it.
So after three days of this, with no sign of the storm abating, Arran gave in.
That morning he set down a plate of fish in front of Moss and held up a finger. ‘Today, every time you call me a good dog, I am going to make you come.’
Moss unfurled eagerly from his lounging position on the floor. His expression said Christmas had come early. ‘Is that a promise, wolfie?’
‘Try me.’
Moss flashed a wicked grin. ‘Good do—’
‘Come,’ Arran said firmly.
He watched Moss drop to the floor again with a gasp, shaking through his breathtaking ascent toward climax. Moss spilled his load over the stone with an agonised moan and knelt there panting.
Arran nodded at the mess. ‘Clean it up.’
‘How?’ Moss asked slyly.
His glibness ripped a snarl from Arran. ‘With your tongue.’
Arran’s cock burned while he watched Moss lap at the pool of cum like a thirsty animal. In truth he wanted to join him. To fucking roll around in it and cover himself in Moss’s scent.
Own him. Own every part of him.
His knot throbbed. He craved to bury it in Moss. To let it swell and hold him there.
Moss glanced up, licking his lips. His face shone with pleasure, seeking approval with his eyes. ‘Have I done well, wolfie?’
‘Not yet.’
Arran’s lungs rumbled as he swept Moss up in his arms and deposited him on the stone workbench. ‘Get hard for me again.’
He needn’t have issued a command, as Moss’s cock was already stiff and pink, ready for more. Arran shoved open his legs, relishing Moss’s excited moan. He observed the ring of muscle around Moss’s hole twitch with anticipation.
Arran knelt and pressed his tongue to it.
‘Ohhhh, shit,’ Moss gasped. ‘That’s… that’ssomething else.’
He has not experienced this before,Arran realised, and his cock nearly hit its peak at the thought of giving Moss this gift.
Compared to a human tongue, Arran’s was exceptionally agile. He arched and coiled it against Moss’s hole, eliciting more sharp gasps and fervent moans. When he pushed it inside, Moss quivered, digging his fingers into Arran’s scalp.
‘Wolfieeee…’ he whined, like a plea.
All the while, Arran kept a sharp eye and a warning claw on the beast. It was presently satisfied to be fucking Moss with his tongue.
Arran felt he had more control over himself now, having been forced to exercise his restraint against Moss over and over again. But still, he kept half a thought on the cooling rain outside, that he could always dash into it if things got too intense.
Moss began to crumple on the bench above him. ‘Wolfie, shit, I… please…’
Thepleaseshot through Arran’s heart and cock at once. He ripped his snout away and rose to place his cock there instead. Moss instantly gripped his shaggy chest fur, trying to pull their bodies together. ‘Yes,’ Moss panted. ‘Yes, please.’
Arran might as well have been on a leash for Moss, he reflected later, seeing how his body unthinkingly obeyed. His cock plunged in, gliding in its own slick, knocking the wind out of Moss with the first blow.
Moss reeled backward, still clinging onto Arran’s pelt. Arran clasped his hips, claws digging into Moss’s perfect buttocks, and yanked him back and forth on his cock. Moss squealed and cried out ‘Please! Please!’ until all Arran’s restraint left him and his rhythm turned wild and the power of his thrusts made Moss shriek.
‘Come for me,’ Arran roared. ‘Come so fucking hard for me, Moss.’
