Page 28 of The Wulver's Bond
‘I amafraidI will hurt you,’ he rumbled, voice low and rough. ‘I would never intentionally hurt you. But it has been years since I… I am afraid I will be too feral.’
The snarl rose up as Arran spoke, overtaking the wordferal.
A new kind of understanding bloomed over Weed’s face. Alongside excitement. ‘Feral?’ His right hand combed through Arran’s fur, running up his chest as the snarl intensified. ‘You want this, then, wolfie? I want to hear you say you want it.’
‘I do not want to hurt you.’ Arran stuttered around his own teeth, snapping in agitation. Every bit of his resolve was melting. The feel of Weed’s hand on his chest, the beseeching look in his eyes, the undercurrent ofneedin Weed’s scent.
‘You let me take care of that,’ Weed replied. Roots and vines reared behind him. The familiar, mischievous gleam re-entered his gaze. ‘But you gotta say you want it, wolf boy. Maybe with a little ‘please’ in there too.’
Arran’s reflexes screamed against the thought of anyone holding him down. Dominating him. Weed’s insolence was everything that riled up the animal part of him—and also turned it on.
‘You are a brat,’ Arran growled, the words now difficult to discern from his reverberating vocal chords. He braced himself for the reaction his own body would have. ‘I want… anything you will give.Please.’
The last word had a thunderous quality. Arran hurled his head backward as his jaws inevitably tried to snap for Weed. They were quickly muzzled again, but the rest of Arran’s body writhed against the restraints until Weed added more, encasing his wrists and ankles in sturdy, woody stems. They pulled his limbs taut, spread-eagled on the ground.
Arran panted huge lungfuls through his muzzle, testing his bonds. Weed had given him barely any wiggle room, which was sensible and… delicious. He felt secure, yet vulnerable—a particularly foreign feeling.
‘How’s that feel?’ Weed asked, leaning right over his face.
Too close!Arran wanted to shout, but even as his teeth tried to lunge, the roots around his mouth held him back. He gasped, realising with exhilaration that Weed just might be in total control. Excitement jittered over his skin.
He caught Weed’s eye, still patiently waiting for an answer, and nodded.
Weed grinned broadly. He glanced down at Arran’s cock, now glossy with a thick coating of clear precum. ‘You look pretty ready for me.’
Arran’s cock swelled and another pump of fluid spilled over it. Weed dragged two fingers through it and sat back on his haunches between Arran’s legs, out of his sight.
Slick sounds reached his ears, accompanied by a sighing moan from Weed. Underneath it was the sound of his quickening heartbeat and the deepening scent of his arousal. It put Arran’s imagination on edge, desperate to see for himself what Weed was up to.
‘I’m getting myself ready for you,’ Weed purred, as the sounds gained a rhythmic quality. Arran groaned; the confirmation was too much, and his body responded in kind. His cock bucked, sending pump after pump of precum cascading over his flesh.
‘Oh, my.’ Weed seemed to muffle a laugh. ‘Aren’t we eager?’
He climbed into view, straddling Arran’s hips. He tutted to himself about the jeans, which were stuck halfway around Arran’s ass and physically couldn’t come off any further with his legs stretched out.
Arran fought to keep his pelvis still while Weed positioned himself. His torso wasn’t held down so tightly as the rest of him, and his body jerked under every tantalising brush with Weed’s flesh. The feel of two hot thighs either side of his hips had his mind close to whiting out. When Weed’s hole finally met the tip of his slippery cock, it was entirely beyond his control when his hips slammed upwards.
‘Shit!’ Weed shouted, doubling over. He winced, clutching fistfuls of Arran’s chest fur. ‘Shit, wolfie.Argh.You weren’t kidding.’
The pain in his voice brought shape back to Arran’s thoughts. He was delirious with the sensation of Weed’s body gripping his cock, growling deep in his throat like a rabid beast.Fuck. Are you okay? Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m going to fuck you so hard. Fuck.
His inner turmoil dissipated to the sound of Weed giggling. It sent vibrations through Arran’s cock, turning his growl into a moan.
‘Phew!’ Weed pursed his lips, steadying himself. ‘I guess I asked for it, didn’t I? This is gonna befun,wolfie.’
Don’t call me that,Arran thought half-heartedly, but in truth he would take any names from Weed right now. He had also, after all, asked for it.
The pace at which Weed began to ride him shocked Arran into a yelp. He’d expected Weed to take his time, get used to the girth inside him perhaps. But Weed gripped his fur and slammed back and forth on Arran’s cock like it was his only means of survival.
Arran couldn’t hold himself back from that. His hips rocked up to meet Weed, stabbing hard and deep with his greedy cock.
‘Ah—Ah—Fuck, yeah, wolfie. Hard as you can…’
Arran’s efforts doubled. Snarls ripped from his throat while he watched Weed losing himself in the wild rhythm. Weed’s pale cock slapped between their stomachs; his slender fingers tangled ever tighter in Arran’s fur. He rode Arran’s body as though it were a bucking horse and Weed was determined to stay in the saddle, sheathing Arran’s throbbing cock over and over with ruthless abandon. The frock coat flapped about him, grazing Arran’s thighs and adding another layer to the vulgar sounds of their bodies smacking.
Weed’s cries seemed like a mix of pain and pleasure, and he laughed between them. ‘Whoo! This is my kind— of sex, wolfie! You definitely shag— like a fae! No holds barred— eh? Balls out all the way! Haha!’
Arran could barely understand him behind the carnal haze filling his brain, but Weed’s exuberance shone through. The pressure was mounting in Arran’s cock. His balls tightened, hips stuttering. His limbs wrenched against their shackles and a few vines snapped free. Weed was too distracted to notice. Arran plunged his cock into Weed even faster, desperate to finish before he escaped his bindings.
